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The Theory of Evolution, 1930

Roger Arliner Young

by Elani Spencer

In the beginning,

a fish washed ashore, lathered in seafoam,

scales glittering under a blazing sun,

clumsy with its new limbs;

lungs instead of gills, legs instead of flippers.

Survival of the fittest

something my people know all too well.

My mother was a fighter

My grandmother before her was a trailblazer

And her mother before her was a revolutionary

The women of my family are constantly evolving,

building more strength, more resilience,

adapting to a country, that lacks acceptance

And I’m here, far from home

because the pressure of the first black woman

feels like a knee to the neck, drowning in my own saliva.

The same fear that kept my ancestors from running

ignited in my chest like liberty’s torch,

stoked by the flames of

You did it! You made it out!

We’re so proud of you!

Our little black superstar!

How can a Black girl carry her whole community on her back

without suffering from the scars?

But I will build a bridge between land and sea,

where we could gather and call the ancestors from the depths,

wrapped in seaweed, salty but alive,

watch the ships past, and wade in the water awhile

yes, they will blow their horns, send the current to wash us away

then use our beached bodies to warm their cabins

yes, this is a fish eat fish world,

but I will not be swallowed.