- hiphopbruha
CUPCAKE AND MATCH

in the mirror
gray hair
more than last year
half moons beneath my eyes
deeper than before
don’t sleep like I used to
sleep replaced by fragments of moments
i wouldn’t call rest
more like a non-work state
noisy mind
races to solve problems
yesterday didn’t understand
i’m not old
i’m young
i eat well (usually)
i exercise
i am just tired
exhausted actually
fatigue and time: my greatest enemies
i hate them both: too much fatigue and not enough time
my contempt should lie with work
the work that once excited me
but now makes joy feel burdensome
∆
so tired
so tired
but I’m almost done
almost done
i’m so tired,
but almost done,
i’m so tired
work
work harder
the grind seeps in this narrow space
between my nights
so I crank up the pace
‘til body and spirit say no
i press on
believing things will be worse
if work isn’t done now…
it always has to be done now
∆
3 years ago
was the first time my body told me no
and now
i am still here
in a hurry
never done
always tired
∆
she whispers in the morning
she is familiar
though I forgot her name
i am happy/scared to see her
i know her /don’t recognize her
glad she’s here / I wish she’d leave
what does she want
want of me
she knows I’m tired
knows this fatigue
knows I’ve tried many things to cure it
but no amount of kale smoothies and ginseng tea
can fix a hole left behind by
an unfulfilled purpose
she knows that for sure
∆
and so I tell her:
one whole year
worked on a report
no one will ever read
110 pages total
in return: a token of gratitude from the institution
a 5x8 paper certificate of appreciation…
via interoffice mail…
if I had a match…
∆
she hands me a match and a cupcake
i take the cupcake
and tell her
it was never the classroom
it was never who or what I was teaching
it was the volume
the endless bureaucratic hoop jumping
the quiet seething anger
the empty debates over semantics
the posturing
the well-meaning smiles that want to help but don’t know how
the inadequate compensation
lack of genuine recognition that I’ve already made a difference
if I had a match…
∆
she takes the match
lights the candle in front of me
And says:
institutions will never know how many hands keep it from collapsing
so it will always ask for more
and don’t let these eager hands be too successful
lest they be fired for making a difference
and accused of stealing the spotlight
institutions will never know how to properly thank you
but the people you serve
will
i take a bite of the cupcake
she takes the rest
and walks away
∆
march this year
there is tightness in my chest
Kaiser told me to go to the ER
i went
all kinds of tests done
stellar health
“So doctor,” I say
“I’m glad the tests came out fine, but what caused this?”
the doctor asks, “So how’s work?”
i burst into tears
and so
along with ears to heal,
the doctor prescribes fun
now I listen for the feeling of fun
the feeling of joy
clumsy at first
so I watch my child
who can sense fun through brick walls
my teacher
my mentor
my baby
∆
and I watch my friends who make differences in lives
i watch them work
and work and work
until the things they once loved lose their luster
until fatigue tells them there is no hope
someone told them that if it feels like work
then maybe it wasn’t a true passion
wrong
there was just too much of it
and so they too
go to hospitals
with pains they can’t explain
back, hip, chest, head
but they/we don’t stop
work and work and struggle work and struggle work and struggle and struggle
i watch them struggle
we struggle together
this struggle builds strength, builds hope, builds courage
to build something better for our children
we emerged from a politics of struggle, right?
okay
so they struggle and struggle and struggle/work
because my/our survival depends on it
until
until they become addicted to struggle
moving from one struggle to the next
because that’s all they’ve ever known
and because they believe it’s noble
never stopping for the victories
because the tragedies loom large
and we have more work to do
never stopping to celebrate
lest we be called lazy
lest the enemy win while we rest
win while we play
and so they don’t eat
don’t sleep
don’t play
don’t celebrate
(and fascinating
when tragedy comes
they don’t mourn either
they work)
and they curse the friends who
eat
sleep
play
they must not be down with the struggle
so they struggle struggle
struggle and curse friend who eats and plays
and beat their children
and beat themselves for ever wanting more
than work
than struggle
they make friends feel guilty for wanting more
and sickness takes over
∆
play is no warm fuzzy feeling for the struggle addict
it’s work
sleep and food are foreign to the struggle addict
it’s work
the addict must practice playing until
the soul recalls this is what it’s meant for
justice needs play and food and sleep
yes, justice needs cupcakes and matches
she whispers
i look at her with confusion
she hands me the rest of the cupcake
walks away
leaving the candle lit
∆
the candle is out
we never slept
we lay awake
vigilant
philandering white cloak disguised in 3-piece suit
marches loudly:
anti-establishment
anti-immigrant
anti-muslim
climate change is a hoax
grab them by the pussy
such a nasty woman and oh yeah
all lives matter
knowing nothing
yet still proud
of the nothing he knows
while everyone watches and laughs
until he wins
and the white cloaks who lay dormant spewing poison in the privacy of their homes and neighborhoods
within the walls of boardrooms and dorm rooms
stealthy
strategizing
for decades, generations
see their long-awaited savior
their release
their green light
and remove their hoods
and take a deep breath
and smell the freshness of American air
with each breath
muslim
immigrant
black
brown
woman
all gasp for air
but we don’t die
and we don’t hide
we work
we struggle
because our survival depends on it
work/struggle to regain normalcy
where hatred is normalized and pardoned
is there a place for both the cupcake and the match?
where do we reach for abundance now?
Copyright © 2016 Janet Stickmon
Artwork by Poesia Mariarte
Janet C. Mendoza Stickmon is an educator, author, and performer. Stickmon is the founder and facilitator of Broken Shackle Developmental Training and the Black Leaders and Mentorship Program. Stickmon’s Crushing Soft Rubies—A Memoir and Midnight Peaches, Two O’clock Patience—A Collection of Essays, Poems, and Short Stories on Womanhood and the Spirit have been used in courses at several colleges and universities across the country. Stickmon is best known for her essays, “Blackapina,” “A Perfect Ordinary Day,” and “Beauty Revealed: Bringing Out the Best in Others,” all featured in Midnight Peaches, Two O’clock Patience, and her latest blog series, To Black Parents Visiting Earth: A Guide to Raising Black Children in the 21st Century. She currently is a professor of Humanities at Napa Valley College, teaching Africana Studies and Filipina(o)-American Heritage. She is also leading a collaborative effort between the Humanities Department and the Associated Students of Napa Valley College Cultural Center in Spring 2016.
Stickmon holds a Master’s of the Arts Degree in Ethnic Studies from San Francisco State University, a Master’s of the Arts Degree in Religion and Society from the Graduate Theological Union in Berkeley, and a Bachelor’s of Science Degree in Civil Engineering from the University of California, Irvine. Professor Janet Stickmon’s professional and educational background have informed her work in the classroom and the community, influencing thousands of adults and adolescents for the last twenty years.