Who Said It Was Simple

I'm trying to spend the evening reflecting on how, no matter how hard I try, there are simply experiences that I will never truly understand, because of my race, or my gender, or my sexuality, my education level, my socioeconomic class, my physical ability...

Here's a poem by Audre Lorde.

* * * * *

"Who Said It Was Simple"

There are so many roots to the tree of anger   

that sometimes the branches shatter   

before they bear.

Sitting in Nedicks

the women rally before they march   

discussing the problematic girls   

they hire to make them free.

An almost white counterman passes   

a waiting brother to serve them first   

and the ladies neither notice nor reject   

the slighter pleasures of their slavery.   

But I who am bound by my mirror   

as well as my bed

see causes in colour

as well as sex

and sit here wondering   

which me will survive   

all these liberations.

 -Audre Lorde, from From a Land Where Other People Live (1973)