They see your mother, your aunt,
Your granddaddy and your father.
I think you’re more interesting
In all the ways others can’t uncover.
Centuries of baggage in your brain.
But don’t you know not all bags are the same?
Some have gifts and good luck
While others bring sorrows from the past.
Look at your furrowed brow
It’s the same your grandmother wore
When she saw bullets during the Liberation War,
Covered behind heavy veils and expectations.
The way you move your hands
As you pen incendiary words on paper
Is the same way your uncle’s hands danced
When he was writing for the rebellion.
So take these earrings as your graduation gift
Made from the same yellow gold
That your great grandmother received
When she was married off at fourteen.
Let the cold metal sit against your cheeks
As you sit behind your computer desk
And let them remind you of a time past
When your great grandmother didn’t get the chance.
