Skin (of my Professor)

I want to crawl into the skin of my professor
Just maybe I’ll understand their cryptic thoughts
If I could see the world through their veiled eyelids
With the slightest bit of privilege just maybe I too could indoctrinate the youth of my class. I could disguise my cognitive dissonance as lived experience and continue in the culture of miseducation like the ancestors I tell my community I’m nothing like.

I want to crawl into the skin of my professor so I can boast about the future of bureaucratic process as if bureaucracy hasn’t legalized the disenfranchisement of the students that lie before me. I could talk about how moving to Oakland was the best thing for me as if my presence wasn’t a flagrant reminder of gentrification. Maybe I could convince myself I am not just another white body and I definitely don’t uphold white supremacist values or patriarchy because I am a woman.

I want to crawl into the skin of my professor so I can land that job I’m super unqualified for. I could pass disengaging curriculum and immutable inflexibility as high academic rigor a course only a few will get high marks in. I could blame my students for poor performance. I could remind myself America is the land of equal opportunity tell my students the space they occupy at HNU is proof of social mobility. I could look in the mirror and view myself as an ally.

I want to crawl into the skin of my professor so I can overlook identity politics. As an expert in all things there is to know we ought not waste our capacity to think on trivial things like identity. I dare not say All Lives Matter aloud but know behind closed doors my life too, should matter. Wearing the skin of my professor I can finally see that exploitation and oppression are exclusive to minorities. My white skin shields me from the appendages of capitalism. My civic engagement takes the form of charity.

I want to crawl into the skin of my professor to start the grueling process of unlearning everything I’ve learned. Begin to question how I know what I know and recognize how this “ally” upholds white supremacy. In the skin of my professor I’d make space for marginalized voices to speak. I’d agitate and educate my white counterparts. I’d see my oppression. I’d re-examine the impact of globalization and deepen my understanding of our societal organization

I want to crawl into the skin of my professor so I can pierce their mental veil of ambivalence.

I want to crawl into the skin of my professor so i could listen to the voices of my students. I’d remind them they are enough. I’d acknowledge Im on stolen land and the right of conquest is not a valid argument for the exploitation and oppression of the native people nor the bodies that were taken to the Americas against their will. I’d explore new material and redefine Classics. I’d speak to the importance of language and encourage students to share what they know.

I want to crawl into the skin of my professor so I can incorporate the lived experiences of my students into my curriculum. I’d challenge the idea of time I’d be more flexible. I’d recognize equity is political jargon but not reality. I’d notice the inequitable distribution of resources in the community. Id see the fatigue and duress of my students.

I want to crawl into the skin of my professor so I can give myself the education I’ve only dreamed of.

© Black Orchid Party 2021