The Bridge Poem
by
Kate Rushin
I’ve had enough
I’m sick of seeing and touching
Both sides of things
Sick of being the damn bridge for everybody
Nobody
Can talk to anybody
Without me
Right?
I explain my mother to my father
my father to my little sister
My little sister to my brother
my brother to the white feminist
The white feminist to the Black church folks
the Black church folks to the ex-hippies
the ex- hippies to the Black separatists
the Black separatist to the artists
the artist to my friends parents…
Then
I’ve got to explain myself
To everybody
I do more translating
Than the Gawdamn U.N.
Forget it
I’m sick of it.
I’m sick of filling in your gaps
Sick of being your insurance against the isolation of your self-imposed limitations
Sick of being the crazy at your holiday dinner
Sick of being the odd one at your Sunday Brunches
Sick of being the sole Black friend to 34 individual white people
Find another connection to the rest of the world
Find something else to make you legitimate
Find some other way to be political and hip
I will not be the bridge to your womanhood Your manhood
Your humanness
I’m sick of reminding you not to
Close off too tight for too long
I’m sick of mediating with your worst self On behalf of your better selves
I am sick
Of having to remind you
To breathe
Before you suffocate
Your own fool self
Forget it
Stretch or drown
Evolve or die
The bridge I must be
Is the bridge to my own power
I must translate
My own fears
Mediate my own weaknesses
I must be the bridge to nowhere
But my true self
And then
I will be useful
This perfect poem written by Kate Rushin is featured in the iconic anthology entitled THIS BRIDGE CALLED MY BACK edited by Cherríe Moraga and Gloria Anzaldúa which features poetry, essays and analytical pieces written by Black, Latina and Native American women.