“The Humidity On My Skin”
A poem
The humidity on my skin
Sticking like glue
Moving far away from the place I called home
No more beach of California or the breeze
Hello, Mississippi
This place has taught me about the person within
The person within that has a culture
My culture. My history.
The humidity on my skin
In this place, I have learned about my power
How I have a voice.
The power that we have in our hands
How everyone seems to have a choice.
The humidity on my skin
I have learned about chains
The chains that were placed on black arms
The rope that was tied on a tree
The dignity that my ancestors carry
The scars that they carry on their backs
Taught me how Black History Month doesn’t have to be in February
It’s necessary that we forgive but don’t forget
Don’t forget where you come from.
Don’t forget how you got here.
Can you hear the chains falling?
Can you hear freedom calling?
The humidity on my skin
This place has taught me how to work for myself
It’s not going to be put on a silver platter
Climb the ladder to the top
And you better not look down!
And if you do you will fall
Go over the wall and change all of your stereotypes
The humidity on my skin
Has taught me after my long journey
I can finally fall into the arms of those who got me here
The ones that got me there
Their African royalty smiling down
The humidity on my skin
Sticking like glue
Moving far away from the place I called home
No more beach of California or the breeze
Hello, Mississippi
This place has taught me about the person within
The person within that has a culture
My culture. My history.
Micah Hill, a freshman from Laurel High School in Laurel, Mississippi, wrote the winning essay for the 2020 Ripley Hunter “World Is a Classroom” essay contest.
This announcement originally appeared in the Sept 2020 issue of Teach & Travel.