Reconstructing Systems, Not Humans
Because what it meant was, the real life experiences of real life human beings were not only informing the work we were doing, but constructing a new approach. And as we evolved and our team grew, so did our scope. Because people most impacted were at the design table, and so shaped what we would create.
But here’s the thing, until those who have come to be known as white are able to understand the impact of the construct of whiteness in relation to the systems and structures that define US culture, governance, economics, and access, dismantling those structures will be impossible.
I’m buying a 4 dollar coffee in the hotel lobby of the Hyatt fucking Regency Using money provided by the organization sponsoring this whole excursion, Carrying no cash, Attending a conference on working with youth experiencing homelessness. I only exist in this opportunity because once, I slept on the streets. Once, I knew the uncertainty… Continue reading Houston Hyatt
He knows why the caged bird beats its wing He knows that love is a quest Searching for contentment freedom guarded secrets of beauty Beauty does not save the bird No dignity in cages Yearning for the cloud’s great secrets Cuts and stings and songs for freedom He offers honey and salt Though… Continue reading honey, salt, and sympathy
I see you in the wholeness of edges I know you Still fighting to hold truth Tormented by your brethren, without whom you cannot exist Desecration has overtaken I miss you these days Found in reuination The corpse of tradition Somefind longing for a privileged past Most plea for decency in a universal future… Continue reading a plea for Beauty
I asked my friends on Election Day, at 2 in the morning, when there was no longer any doubt of the outcome, to tell me this was all a nightmare; to tell me to wake up. To ask how I could move on learning what I learned from this election. One of my friends told… Continue reading Change
We are all hurting right now. The events of the past few weeks have left many of us lost, broken, sad, angry, in shock, in disbelief. In short, grieving. White folks seem to be grieving in many cases for the loss of a way of life, of a country and nationalism that they grew… Continue reading A letter to my white Austin liberals
Strange, this. Writing about my life, as a poet, has often come easily to me. Telling you why I should be awarded financial aid has been a struggle. Assuredly there were hardships, extenuating circumstances, and to a point, my own poor decisions. I was a street kid for around six years. There was a period… Continue reading Letter for school- or how I went back to College
I wrote about this once, years ago Foolishly, perhaps youthfully, I thought I wouldn't have to revisit the aching void, The sorrow and hopelessness, yet I find myself again trying to make beautiful devastation. It is so much worse this time, no personal losses, no family in pain, but real, true terror, walking hand… Continue reading For Lebanon… again
Austin, you're breaking my heart, with your too cool attitude. You're becoming that boy from high school, You remember, the slicked-back, smoke-sleeved, dreamy-eyed boy, who dreamed of throwing the pig skin. The boy who sat in the back of the class, Who knew every answer. We met, we danced, we did way too many drugs,… Continue reading Dear Austin
Rhie Azzam Morris 