Dr. King had a dream.
One deeply rooted in the American dream
That one day his nation would rise up
Would live up to its creed,
“We hold these truths to be self evident: that all men are created equal.”
Dr King had a dream too,
That his four little children would one day live in a nation,
Where they would be judged
Not by the color of their skin,
But by the content of their character.
I too, an ordinary working woman
Have a dream.
Of the day,
When my dark skin, thick lips and nappy hair will not be held against me.
When I will be judged by the stellar results of
My hard work
Leadership qualities and
The brilliant disruptive game-changing genius of my creative mind.
My expensively made up face, (I only wear Mac darling) or;
The red soles on my stilettos (Genuine Louboutins dear, I don’t wear knock -offs);
The hideously expensive boutique original outfit (You know from his Ready to Wear Autumn Winter Collection, darling)
The price of my handbag, ( Check the label and the stitching please)
the car I drive; or
The address of the secure complex where I lay my head.
My ability to flatter, woo and schmooze; or
The impeccably impregnable facade of my perfectly managed perceptions,
All designed to flatter and placate superiors
To prove that I’m worthy of my place.
On that day my spirit will dance and my soul will sing.
Free At Last! Free At Last! Thank God Almighty! We’re Free At Last!
Yes! A working girl can dream too!
In living colour!