Born as an infant, red and in tears

I knew not of what was in store-
The innocent light that shone in my eyes
Would later be dimmed by war

Then, as a toddler, chubby and gay
I laughed at the sight of my feet
Strangers smiled and Grandma beamed
I was perfect, in their eyes, at least

By September I headed off into the wind
Hand in hand with my best friend
We giggled and skipped and groaned together
When the boys were picked first, again!

By junior high, I averted my eyes
When movies were shown, now and then
About powerful leaders across the world
How strange, I thought. They’re men.

It seemed no one saw things the way I did.
Or maybe they just didn’t look
We’ve never known anything different than this
From now back until the Good Book

The problem is subtle-but it is still here-
And it’s not race, I can tell you for sure
From play to dress to classes to wages
We’re expected to be…demure.

What are my choices, then? I ask.
I refuse to be less than extraordinary.
I want to stand in the sun, let the light in my eyes
No, stop, they say. You’re ordinary.

As told by the actress on my bright, shiny screen
If we’re not spineless, then, we’re s****.
We don’t stereotype, the big man insists.
Well, the media’s relentless as mutts.

Now, at the ripe old age of sixteen,
I’ve seen too much to go back
We’re no longer the innocent children
Jumping over the sidewalk cracks

Indeed, a battle call this is-
For those who are suppressed or unheard
Stand up, show up, give up the idea-
Of that life you once thought you deserved

We can’t be defined by society’s norms
There’s so much more to the story
Like the journey to the top of Mt. Everest
And the sparks of success and glory

I know there are others who feel the same way
They’re just afraid to speak up
Thinking does nothing, action does something
Chin up, buttercup!

That sweet, smiling baby that sang in her sleep
Is someone complex, someone more
That innocent light that shone in my eyes?
It still exists in my core.