Lyrical Essay

Listener Lyric Essay

After reading the book Citizen, by Claudia Rankine, in our english class we were assigned the task of writing our own lyrical essays. Citizen is a book comprised of numerous examples of compelling lyrical essays that examine what it is like to be black in America. For our own lyrical essays were were supposed to pick an identity topic and then find someone who has a different identity than us and interview them about their experience. We were then supposed to turn these interviews into lyrical essays written in the second person. For my identity topic I chose race and interviewed one of my good friends. I also find an image online that ties in with the theme of the lyrical essay.

 

You wake up everyday, catch your reflection in the mirror, and know who you are.

It took some time, a while actually, but you got there, you know.

You know exactly the kinds of things that are important to you, your values, your interests –

you.

Maybe it would be easier if you weren’t self-aware.

Had no idea who you were, but you do.

 

You ask, “What are you drinking?”

They reply, “Oh it’s my favorite, it’s chai tea. You know chai tea, right?”

Dumbfounded, you calmly answer that you do, you actually know it very well.

You wonder how someone could claim to love something so much and know so little about it.

You inform them that “chai” means “tea”.

Let them know that they walk into their favorite coffee shop and ask for a “tea tea latte”.

You are left wondering how it all got so lost, so muddled.

 

Everyday you meet people and adjust what side of yourself you portray. You wonder what it is they are judging you for, what they disapprove of.

And sometimes you don’t have to wonder, they lay it out for you. Say it squarely to your face.

They’re thinking why is she here? Why is she doing that? What the hell is she wearing?

The judgement comes at the intersection of east and west.

 

You see people show up to school with henna covering their hands.

Peers praise them for how “cool” it looks.

But you can’t help but question if they know where it comes from.

You wonder what the response would be if you showed up to school like that.

And you’re not mad at them for getting henna.

But you are uncomfortable that you would be judged for wearing it to school.

That even though you know the history, the meaning.

It would not be as “cool” on you.

It can be difficult figuring out which parts of your culture are on trend now.

 

To you everything you are is natural, understandable, normal. To everyone on the outside looking in, you’re some strange combination of different identities that really shouldn’t mix.

 

It was easy to learn how much a moment can get stuck in your memory.

How it can consume your thoughts.

It can create its own home within you and become a constant voice.

“You’re really pretty,

for an Indian.”

It’s all the confirmation you need.

You exist on one level.

The others exist above it.

No matter what you do, that level is unattainable.

You can never be that person.

 

What is just the multifaceted parts of you being alive, being human, is torn apart into choices to be made.

Which part of you will you embrace in this moment? What is the most acceptable, presentable?

It’s exhausting.

Only in the most curated and comfortable of situations can you be all that you are. Surrounded by the four walls you’ve always known and your carefully vetted companions.

The rest of the time is spent suppressing a part of you.

You wonder how many people actually know you, and not just some portion of you that was on display. You wonder how those people would react if you were just yourself. You know that most wouldn’t be able to comprehend it, would characterize the unknown as a facade because it’s easier to dismiss you as being something more complex than it is to take the time to get to know you,

right?