About Michelle
Michelle Brown is an author, activist & public speaker who believes in common ground for all people.Appearances
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Recent Posts
- The Bayard Rustin Center for Social Justice welcomes Michelle Elizabeth Brown to the BRCSJ Board of Directors
- Ode to Kamala Harris/Our Vice President
- Updated poetry for TDOR 2020 (Monica on my mind)
- Living in the Shadow of COVID 3: Getting Back to Work, Because There’s SO Much Work to Do
- Living in the Shadow of COVID 2: Caring for Our Communities
Archives
Category Archives: literature
MOCK
By Michelle E. Brown (For Transgender Day of Visibility 3/26/14)
Daddy wanted a son
A man child, legacy bearer
A son to toss a ball, cast a rod
Share manly things around the campfire
While cleaning guns
Daddy wanted a son
Momma wanted a daughter
A woman child, baby girl
Pretty curls, frills and dolls
She’d teach her to cook, to sew
To preen and be coy
Share womanly things
While getting mani-pedis
Momma wanted a daughter
I sat amongst the stars
Hearing their longings
Seeing their dream
Looking down, pondering
I want to be me
Unfettered by sexual identity
Not playing roles in their boxes
Safe from lines drawn by intellect and reason
Decidedly, undecided
Free
If I must choose
I choose to stay here
Free
Just me
But daddy wants a son
Momma wants a daughter
Earth wants my presence
So I must leave my heavenly sanctuary
Pushing me, pulling me
Traveling towards the light
Where daddy wants a boy
Momma wants a girl
Doctor opens his mouth to pass judgment
Pronounce life’s sentence upon me
What is it
Is it boy
Is it girl
I open my mouth and shout
Shout for those who came before
For those who will come after
Before the verdict is given
STOP!
Do not bind me with your biases
Your preconceived notions of
Who I am
How I should be
I am not it
Not boy, nor girl
I am a baby
Let me, be me
“I was born a baby, not a boy” Janet Mock 02/06/2014
Posted in Black women, Creative Writing, lgbt, literature, Love, Queer, Self imaage, Transgender, Women
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The Secret Society of Twisted Storytellers “Storytelling Slam”
And the winner is – ME!!!! The theme was “Stand Your Ground” and I told a story about standing my ground in support of the city I love Detroit, MI, in support of building community by supporting local businesses and in standing your ground for respect as a consumer. An eclectic field of ten storytellers, but in the end there could be only one -winner that is – and I am so honored to be that winner.
The Secret Society of Twisted Storytellers (TSSOTS) was created by award-winning performer and actor Satori Shakoor. TSSOTS has a global mission and purpose to connect humanity, heal and transform community and provide an uplifting, thought-provoking, soul-cleansing entertainment experience that is unique through the art and craft of storytelling. In Detroit on the third Friday of the month? Come experience TSSOTS at the Museum of African Am erican History.
Posted in Black identity, Black women, literature, Self imaage
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Back to My Future (a poem by Michelle E. Brown)
I don’t want to go back for my future
But every time I try to move forward
I run into the same old lies
The same old games
Flirtation, seduction, titillation
Words that promise
Touch that thrills
Brand new smiles
Telling same old lies
Detours, road blocks, hazards
Turning me around
Impeding all progress
And in my rearview mirror
There’s you
You fit like a comfortable old shoe
Like that big comfy sweater
With patches on each elbow
The cottage in the country
Porch swing rocking gently in the wind
Quiet, stable, solid, you.
But I don’t want to go back to that future
Thoughts, ideas, dreams stunted
Smothered in your all inclusive love
I died a little each day in that past
Back there with you.
After you, I took a deep breath
Awoke from the coma
Returned to my life
Picking up the pieces
Moving forward
Moving on
I don’t want to go back for my future
But every time I try to move forward
I find only darkness, only despair
The futility of today’s transience
Broken spirits, empty promises
Chance encounters on hot summer nights
Evening spent drinking as the bar gets ready to close
Damaged goods, excess baggage
Others trying to move forward
Weighed down by their past.
I want to go back to that promise
That promise of the past
Those quiet romantic evenings
Candle lit dinners, champagne and bubble baths
Deep thoughtful, heated conversations
The art of making love
I guess I want to go back to that future
To move forward, to start anew
And there you are in my rearview mirror
Quiet, stable, solid you.
Reminding that with the bad times
We’d shared a few good too
Rays of light amidst all that gray.
Maybe I can go back for my future
To move forward, to start anew
I want to go back to that promise
I want to go back to that future
I just don’t want to go back there
With you.
Posted in literature, Love, Self imaage, Women
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