an ode to the district.

i've lived in DC for over 4 years now and if there is one thing i can say about this place, it is that for it to be so small, it is packed with some of the most beautiful history i have ever studied. i hope that my dc natives and transplants alike can appreciate this work and i hope it is an appropriate expression of the power that lies within these 8 wards. In honor of Emancipation Day I presented this to community partners at OneDC.

The only thing constant in the world,
Is change.
That’s why today I take life as it comes.

In the District of competition,
Where there isn’t always clear vision,
We rely on superstition
To explain the broken reflection of ourselves
Confused because our worlds don’t mirror
The presidential picture
And if you happen to be the Natasha
Whose last name ain’t Obama
You may begin to wonder if you’re in the frame at all
Constantly left to fend(ty) for herself
This poor little DC girl
Has had to forward her mail every year of her life
May your mayor make her a priority
Realize she’s the majority,
Skip the presidential tea parties,
To save the girl stuck in a rut between Good hope, and Kings dreams.
Writing letters from a Birmingham jail, in her cell on Alabama avenue.
If only he could see what D sees,
That behind Florida’s palm trees,
Beside the capitol lettering,
There are lower cases of affordable housing
Where we forgot that we,
Were supposed to be,
Lifting up our hearts.
If we could see what D sees,
Fight against the patriarchy,
Count the number of students at Gonzaga high
With sursum corda residency.
Watch the faces on the 90 change 180 degrees
Cause those on the S2 said FU,
The Hill’s in Southeast
And I signed my lease
And the landlord said it wouldn’t be that bad
Cause all the culture that it used to have
Fits nice and compact
Into Sundays farmer’s market.
Where Monday’s beggar plays jazz.
If only we could see what D sees….
That you street, ben’s chili and the naacp
Used to belong to her
But the pronoun has attached itself to someone else
And now there’s a bistro where she used to shoot free throws
A café where she danced ballet
And that low class liquor store is no more
It’s a wine bar now.
And now we have two memorials along the corridor
Both reminders of a civil war
That left black faces to be remembered
So long as we don’t forget,
our number of completion is eight
and the freed slaves who paved way,
are rolling in their graves today
cause the noise created by the freeway and suitland parkway
keeps them up at night
listening to others make plans to decimate
the community they purposely neglected in the first place
But if only they could see what D sees
That she is capable of creating wizardry
She is the same D, that allowed Nannie Helen B
Suburban Gardens, and H.D.
To coexist peacefully
The same D that gave Amtrak Ivy city
And though she don’t get much in return…
she returns some of the greatest black leaders of our time.
The history that D has seen,
Will always triumph over the misery
That attacks her self esteem.
It is freedom that wipes her clean.
The only thing, constant in our world is change.
And the only way to understand our future
Is to recognize our past
If we could see what D sees,
We’d hold on dearly to our city.
In the name of Anna J. Cooper
And William Birney,
I pray that one day we can all see,
What D sees.