The more I watch Jasmine Mans' spoken word performances, the
more I am mesmerized by her words and her energy. I was just as awe-struck
seeing 'I Know You Didn't Mean to Kill Him' as I was the first time I saw 'Dear
Ex-Lover'. Her passion in her voice and the tone she employs as she presents
her unique mix of words have created this raw and naked power that shake
people's hearts.
She begins her poem with the Amadou Diallo shooting in 1999, and followed up with the Sean Bell shooting in 2006. She then describes passionately, the problems society face today. The police brutality, the racial profiling, the gangs, the hoods and the guns...These issues and problems still hold true now, with the Ferguson Michael Brown shooting, as they were true back in 1999, perhaps even way back till hundreds of years ago, and who knows, perhaps in the future too.
So many instances in her performance and in her words have tugged hard at my heartstrings, and it is way too long, to list them all out. But a few of my favorite lines goes,
But I know, I know black mothers don't breed hate and sin to their first born men,
just as much as I know she did not choose for him to be a martyr for them.
You can never tell the difference between the mother of the murdered
and the mother of the murderer.
Both shook in solemn, both eyes and memory blue in tint, both lost their grips
when they lost their sons; developed a stutter in their palms.
One became scared of her shadow, while the other just became one.
Babies, are all born plain paper. And I wonder what have gotten to them, have eaten away their souls, may that be fear, desire, power, or what not, to have made them murderers, to have made them pull the triggers. And I just like Mans, I wonder, have those murderers thought of the pain and disappointment their mothers would live with, and the loss of world the mother of the dead will be in? I couldn't imagine, and I raise the same question.
"Boy, where'd you get all that hate from? All that culture from?
All them damn guns, them damn guns from?"
She begins her poem with the Amadou Diallo shooting in 1999, and followed up with the Sean Bell shooting in 2006. She then describes passionately, the problems society face today. The police brutality, the racial profiling, the gangs, the hoods and the guns...These issues and problems still hold true now, with the Ferguson Michael Brown shooting, as they were true back in 1999, perhaps even way back till hundreds of years ago, and who knows, perhaps in the future too.
So many instances in her performance and in her words have tugged hard at my heartstrings, and it is way too long, to list them all out. But a few of my favorite lines goes,
But I know, I know black mothers don't breed hate and sin to their first born men,
just as much as I know she did not choose for him to be a martyr for them.
You can never tell the difference between the mother of the murdered
and the mother of the murderer.
Both shook in solemn, both eyes and memory blue in tint, both lost their grips
when they lost their sons; developed a stutter in their palms.
One became scared of her shadow, while the other just became one.
Babies, are all born plain paper. And I wonder what have gotten to them, have eaten away their souls, may that be fear, desire, power, or what not, to have made them murderers, to have made them pull the triggers. And I just like Mans, I wonder, have those murderers thought of the pain and disappointment their mothers would live with, and the loss of world the mother of the dead will be in? I couldn't imagine, and I raise the same question.
"Boy, where'd you get all that hate from? All that culture from?
All them damn guns, them damn guns from?"
Mans seem to believe that it is society
that have brought them to this. And I do agree with her mostly. People growing
up in the hood might have never been given enough. They might have grown up in
difficult situations; with injustice, with society pinning names and shame and
danger on the steps of their doors, their neighborhood. Indeed, like Mans has
said,
This world has given them nothing at
all to lose,
and everything to prove, so they stand
on the front lines,
naked, ready to make a man out of
themselves,
with the only tools click clack this
world
has never given a nigga to use.
This poem, is ultimately a poem of
forgiveness. For Mans understands and forgives and prays for those who'have
made chalk outlines of so many of my (her) childhood friends'.
This poem is a powerful piece that raises and discusses the subjects of
violence, hate, love and forgiveness. Mans have indeed produced some piece of
work.
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