We are Americans.
It has made me angry since the towers fell,
the Americans who have suddenly started seeing
terrorists everywhere,
who look at anyone Middle-Eastern,
with a name like Hammad or Muhammed or Suheir,
and spit in their faces,
slash their tires and break their windows, forgetting
that they are Americans too.
And forgetting also
that this crime was committed not by a nation,
a religion,
or a people,
but a select few, backed by another select few,
forgetting also
that plenty of white Americans have turned terrorist
on their own soil,
which is worse, a betrayal -
Columbine must not have mattered so much.
And of course always forgetting
or never learning
that the United States’ hands are not
half so white as politicians would have them painted,
cold and thoughtless self-interested bastards who hail us
as champions of freedom and democracy,
when really we initiate military coups
to put up a
Capitalist dictatorship we like
and overthrow a
Communist democracy we don’t,
because apparently
market is more important than government
and we care more about money than justice.
Who here can claim they know the story of Congo?
Maybe I’m angry about the wrong things.
I know I should have spent the last ten years
bitterly spitting towards the East,
raising my middle finger in salute of the worst kind,
but instead I have bitterly spit at the Congress
who started a war and didn’t even have the balls to call it that,
except in hackneyed phrases
they knew America would repeat with misty eyes:
War on Terror, a fight for democracy.
This is why I want to join the Peace Corps.
I want to make right, if I can,
for all the wrongs my country has done.
I don’t think we deserved what we got,
but I have been angrier at racists than terrorists.
We may be good, but if that is true, then
we are misguided.
Maybe I’m angry about the wrong things,
but it’s those things I am angry about.
