On Tuesday, Jan. 23, a dinner was held in the Fred Rogers Center to memorialize civil rights leader Martin Luther King, Jr. At the dinner, three students were announced as winners of the 2018 MLK Day Poetry Celebration Poetry Competition.
Michelle Gil-Montero, associate professor of English, said, “All three winning poems explored the complexities involved with how we define ourselves — not only how those definitions can be limiting, but how the process of self-definition brings us into conflict with ourselves and, often, with each other.”
Tyrique Anderson, a freshman psychology major, won first place for his poem, “Being Mixed,” which he read at the dinner. Junior English major Mallory Truckenmiller received second place and senior English major Anthony Horner received third.
Dr. Anthony Leach, professor of music and music education at Penn State University and director of the Essence of Joy Choir, was the guest speaker.
First Place:
Being Mixed
by Tyrique Anderson
First things first,
I’m not mixed—you mix a salad,
My situation though is complex,
It is like dark chocolate combining with cookies and creams producing a Twix,
I remember waking up every morning, it was like choosing left or right Twix,
Today am I black or white? Or somewhere in between?
I remember the uncertainty of what race or ethnicity to bubble in on standardized tests,
I remember the names like powder and buttermilk,
Also people will say I got rhythm like a white boy,
Or flow like Langston Hughes,
Or that I listen to white people music,
Or pray like black pastor,
And supposedly I talk like a white boy whatever that means,
Around 6th grade something that my art teacher said about glue resonated with me
“A little dot sticks a lot”
I began to recognized people knew my color before they knew me,
Black people will say, “You aren’t black or black enough”
You don’t know how it feels for hear someone say, “You do not belong”
When every part of your anatomy is screaming I do,
My white friends didn’t get it right either,
Every time they had a question about race they had to ask me,
I appreciate you trying to learn,
But am I your only black friend?
Why do I feel like a trophy?
Why do you assume my mom is white and that my dad has to be black?
Why do you assume I like basketball or play sports?
I forgive you, but how many times do I have to do it,
I finally got sick of choosing, because every time I chose – I ended up rejected,
I had to accept it!
As I look in the mirror,
I don’t see a Twix,
But I see me,
What do you see, when you look in your mirror?
Second Place:
Name Omitted for Legal Purposes
by Mallory Truckenmiller
She is foster girl
She is moon eyes and big lips
Beneath natty unkempt hair
She is trust and she is love
She is naïve and free with goodnight kisses
She is foster girl
She is energy with nowhere to go
And creativity with no one to see it
She is love without a beloved
although she loves quickly and fully
She is rooted without a home
She is foster girl
She is bad name and bad manners
She is a list of wrongs
She is a bad taste
She is bad
She is foster girl
She is without history
She is ambiguity
What color was your mama, girl?
She is forgotten
She is individual
She is foster girl
She is broken but not undone
She is hope
She is joy without reason
She is begging for a reason
She is foster girl
I love her
I hate for her
I hold her and brush her hair
I wait with her for a home that I cannot give
I tell her she is limitless
She will forget
She is foster girl
She is with me but I cannot keep her
She is foster girl
She is gone
Third Place:
a synonym for humanity
by Anthony Horner
I. the human mind when I think about it
eggshells
snow
milk and clouds.
both really simple and
tremendously complex;
traditionally
a blank canvas
the neutral one that goes unnoticed
the way I feel
answering clearly
the half moon
sliver of everyone’s
nail bed that shows
when you push back
the pencil that never gets used
next to the colorful ones.
II. I have seen so many things.
almost all text in books
is seen as the opposite of white,
even if opposing two colors
doesn’t make any sense.
you can’t see
what is hiding in the dark?
when everything around is black?
burnt edges of my breakfast toast,
Do blind people only see black?
who needscolors
when black is perfect
for every occasion,
casual or sophisticated,
sexy or sad.
III. two hours under this fig tree
touching
an old fig tree in an abandoned orchard
I became acutely aware
the only person
with all my thoughts,
past,people,
everything I know
could no longer trail them along
I understood
I wandered
I created a stack
I am special in the way
every human being is special,
I’m not sure I’ve ever felt like myself.
IV. with love, for good.
the unique ability to choose;
the responsibility to choose well,
the ability to make mistakes
be
act
say
go
love
believe
without any fears.
I have dreamed
during myyears
to be limited
in order not to take
Photos: John Wojecthko