I, Too, Sing America

I, too, sing America.

I am the darker brother.
They send me to eat in the kitchen
When company comes,
But I laugh,
And eat well,
And grow strong.

Tomorrow,
I'll be at the table
When company comes.
Nobody'll dare
Say to me,
"Eat in the kitchen,"
Then.

Besides,
They'll see how beautiful I am
And be ashamed--

I, too, am America.

--Langston Hughes

Comments

[jack]

No comments? What a shame.

There's a harsh truth in this great poem that nobody wants to face.

The 'darker brother' may have laughed, but he didn't eat well and grow strong.

He messed around in the kitchen trying to get the attention of the people in the dining room. Sometimes he even yelled at them because he was being made to eat in the kitchen.

And he didn't listen when the people in the dining room told him they'd all started out in the kitchen.

It's where all the kids sit until they're old enough or mature enough to eat with the grownups.

The Irish brother sat there a long time. Sometimes they'd even forget to feed him. But he did what he had to do and got out of the kitchen.

The Italian brother was there too, and the German, and the Polish, the Chinese, the Japanese, the Jew, the Greek-- all of them.

Some even sat there WITH the darker brother.

But they did what he only said he was going to do.

And now the Mexican brother is headed for the door into the dining room.

And the darker brother, who is America--as much as any of them, still sits in the kitchen. All alone.

Maybe now he'll sit, and eat, and grow strong and understand that the people in the dining room are not ashamed of him. They just want him to grow up.