First came their forefathers, thumping their holy books over our heads and telling us straight up but talking down atop from beasts we had never seen, that we were savages. With that they tried to save us and shape us, shave us off of our primal deeds. I was taught that what I had understood until now was wrong, that they knew better about me, my family, my faith and my people. They allowed me in places I anyway would have had been in, just that making my presence more visible to themselves is what justified the conquest that civilized savages like me. Bound but clothes removed, I was taught to teach the others like me, that only the master best knows the servant.
In a battlefield, bringing death at my own brothers, I am a weapon against the things Master says he protects me from – my roots. But I am also his shield.
Now come their children, riding high on virtue and pills, looking a bit like me this time though; telling me that I am misunderstood – pointing at my skin or hair, reassuring me that I am beautiful yet hated by others because no one understands me like they do. I am misunderstood because they know better about me, my family, my faith and my people. They still allow me in places I anyway would have been in, just that making my presence more visible among themselves is what justifies the inclusion that civilizes savages like me. Unbound but a cloth wrapped around my head now, I am taught to teach the others, that only the master best knows the victim.
Away from the carnage in a new battlefield, I am a weapon against the things he says he protects me from – this time, his own roots. But like then, and now once again, I am also his shield.