A Poem in Homage to "Black Box" by Nikki Grimes

            At GVWP, we often discuss identity--as writers, learners, readers, teachers, etc...  These conversations lead me to question my own identity, not the one that I know to be true, but the identity created for me, as a woman, and teacher, in modern society. One of my favorite poems to teach junior high students, who often struggle with the creating an authentic self, is "Black Box," a poem written within the book Bronx Masquerade by Nikki Grimes.  This poem shows students that although society may try to label us and force us to conform to accepted standards, we do not have to assume the limited constraints imposed.

      In honor of this poem, I have written my own poem, "Pink Box" (below "Black Box"), which attempts to address the narrow confines of womanhood within our society.

“Black Box” by Devon Hope

(an excerpt from Bronx Masquerade by Nikki Grimes)

 

In case I forgot to tell you,

I’m allergic to boxes:

Black boxes, shoe boxes,

New boxes, You boxes—

Even cereal boxes

Boasting champions.

(It’s all a lie.

I’ve peeked inside

And what I found

Were flakes.)

Make no mistake,

I make no exceptions

For Cracker Jack

Or Christmas glitter.

Haven’t you noticed?

I’m made of skeleton,

Muscle and skin.

My body is the only box

I belong in.

But you like your boxes

So keep them.

Mark them geek, wimp, bully.

Mark them china doll, brainiac,

Or plan dumb jock.

Choose whatever

Box you like, Mike.

Just don’t put me

In one, son.

Believe me,

I won’t fit.

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Pink Box

M.Pollet-Swidorski

I may be made of muscle and skin

wrapped around skeleton,

but you have

forced me

into a box,

one that is too tiny,

too prim,

for the larger-sized package

within.

You paint me pink,

Tie my hands

In silk ribbons

Laced with barb,

You take my shoes,

my mouth,

    my womb

(in my best interest)

You mark me lady,

Bitch, whore,

Depending on whether

I open.



I won’t conform

I won’t be contained

I won’t be that frame

You packaged me to be.

Because I,

I am a circle,

Whole, powerful,

     Ever-changing,

Your greatest fear.

I may be made of muscle and skin,

Wrapped around skeleton,

But I am more,

    So much more,

Than what You

Made me for.