Do not forget, White folk,
legions standing behind us,
countless ancestors wishing us well,
or not, depending on their
politics, so very varied.
Some we can rightly be proud of.
Loving souls made their marks.
We stand on their shoulders.
We feel the boots of others
weighing us down.
Liberators and oppressors
side by side, they speak
of victories, iniquities,
inequities and generosities.
Sometimes the same souls
carry histories of both.
Slave owners, champions
of civil rights shedding
blood, their own,
or that of others,
copiously.
Genocidal conquerors,
scientists shedding light
on life and other mysteries.
Healers of wonder,
perpetrators of abuse.
Somehow all of that
not just behind us but
within us, tumultuous.
No wonder we are stressed,
not always knowing what to do.
Poor poor White folk
straddling horns of
paradox, devils and angels
contesting on wrestling mats.
Let’s not feel too sorry
for our sorry selves when all
we need to do is listen
very carefully to countless
histories, our beating hearts
choosing action,
wrong or right.
~ Wry Welwood
March 2021, Illumination, on Medium platform.
Re-edited June 2023, for Shadow in Light, on Substack.
Regarding the image: A couple of nights after I wrote and titled the poem, a tremendous windstorm uprooted a gigantic spruce in our yard. Fortunately it did not crush our house or us, falling the other way instead. I decided to use the image for the poem.
The photo of the fallen tree makes clear your “ message “ on one level. But I can’t help thinking you are also talking about the latest Supreme Court decision on affirmative action.