Journalistic Poetry.
David - Fire Element
You tell me it started with your own people
Meaning the other brown kids at school
With both parents from Ghana, your origins were not common
And therefore subject to ridicule
‘Boku’ and ‘Freshie’ were the terms used to point out you were somehow animalistic, blacker
And as the classroom laughed they never questioned whether that distinction
was even their idea
With divide and conquer as one of the oldest tools for masking fear
You learned that being a dark-skinned African was not gonna be so easy here
You tell me when you were younger your family moved to Britain
And if you had any illusions of better fitting in you were in for a knock
Darker skin was still like sin between a hard place and a rock
But structures made of brick and stone are known to contain heat
A kindled flame from the sticks thrown at your bones
Became a place within you to retreat
I imagine that’s how you defeat the spectre of race
By giving it air in a controlled space - becoming a fireplace
Releasing hot waves of energy
Your words giving voice to unsung legacies
You tell me your parents always had music in the house
Your mom’s singing showed you the power of voice to reach
And as a pastor, your father’s gospel modeled how to preach
You describe a memory of sitting in the back of your dad’s car
Hymns of worship washing over you
I imagine this was when your rap craft had begun
It reminds me of your namesake from the bible - David, the shepherd’s son
He was the one chosen to become king
But before he conquered Goliath with his sling
He watched over his father’s flock and learned to sing
Writing rhymes in the fields that turned into Psalms
A soothing practice in keeping the mind calm
For a fire left to rage maims and mars
So you vent it in your rap, avoid the trap and spit bars
You mention you’re drawn to music that lifts the spirit
And that’s what you intend to do with it
Share messages people can actually use
And I think of all the points of view that came before you
Black gold sold on the Atlantic coast
A sea of mysteries submerged in history
And in my mind’s eye, I see a reason to amplify sound
A distant hum rising from the depths, un-drowned
A beat bursts from your chest via the mic to the speakers
And I imagine a bonfire circle complete
Your forbears providing the fuel, and you bringing the heat
“a beat bursts from your chest
via the mic to the speakers
and I imagine a bonfire circle complete
your forbears providing the fuel
and you bringing the heat”
I ask you about your experiences with whiteness
You say you encounter it when trying to advance in life
At school, at work, you’d have to blind yourself to not see it
You notice you are perceived in a certain way
And you have to train yourself to not be it
You wear Africa on your skin
The very soil of Dutch and British exploitation
But despite your country of origin
The West is the environment you grew up in
So you come with all that plus more
And when you enter a room your aura is not small
I imagine it must be intimidating and I ask you what you think it’s rooted in
You say it must be insecurity on their part
Fear that you might be the one to spark a change
A tipping of the scales that have been weighed for so long in their favour
You tell me you cannot let it deter you and simply continue diligently
It’s hard to make people see what mostly takes place subliminally
You say those reaping benefits may not be aware of the flip side of their advantage
I think about how that leaves it only to the other side to feel the damage
It strikes me that even as the bent system prevails
Fire in full bloom blazes a trail
You tell me you grew up feeling your mother had the best singing voice
You say it’s one of the main reasons why you do what you do
It made you feel good and that’s what creating rap does too
I think about music’s power to soothe
How rhyme and rhythm whispers to the nervous system
Like a steady flame softens the toughest bark into ash
Hardened crust cracks releasing curling smoke
Like incense, it evokes peace, a collective release of social tension
And the weight and glory of living life while appearing African
David performs under the artist name Dame1, works from the Treehouse community and is of Ghanaian, Dutch and British nationality
“you say you encounter it at school, at work
you’d have to blind yourself to not see it
you notice you are perceived in a certain way
and you have to train yourself to not be it”
Xx
