Our natural crown is breaking through the mold
I SAID OUR NATURAL CROWN IS BREAKING THROUGH THE MOLD!
We are an endangered demographic woven within the fabric of an industry that doesn’t see us
At times I feel our naturalness, our culture, is in direct conflict with our 9-5
Five years of schooling, but the classroom is different now
Gazing eyes pierce through the skin I’m in, as the looks whisper why is she on this job site?
Honestly I don’t feel I belong here either
But I am here.
My internal voice may be shaken, but my exterior exudes the confidence of my African Ancestors
I am a force to be reckoned with
You will see me.
You will hear me.
My voice. My thoughts. They matter.
But sometimes I can’t follow my own thoughts
They scatter to and fro
These thoughts juggle between purpose and future
But it’s hard to see your future when your career crown is falling off
These hard hats simply… do…not… fit!
Should my locks, twist out, box braids, or fro be adjusted for this crown?
I question if one crown has to diminish for another crown to shine?
Both crowns are wanted, but they are in conflict in the confined placenta of this industry
Tried flattening my crown to fit in the mold of the other crown
Thinking that only one crown was malleable and the other was impervious
Truth is, anything is impervious until challenged
I woke up today, got my hammer, and decided to challenge that crown
With each liberating swing of my tool, I broke down what I thought was a crown
But in reality it was a cage that limited my creativity and placement here
To live in the forgotten mirror of architecture’s rear view no longer
Out of the cage we are free!
So to my sistah I say:
Your crown is beautiful
My brotha your crown is fly
We will build our own archetype
We will be the new mold
Your voice is needed
My voice is needed
lunchboxthoughts 