Ode to the Only Black Kid in the Class poem by Clint Smith

I’m Clint Smith and this is
“Ode to the Only Black Kid in the Class.”

You, it seems,
are the manifestation

of several lifetimes
of toil.

Brown v. Board
in flesh.

Most days
the classroom feels

like an antechamber.

You are deemed expert

on all things Morrison,
King, Malcolm, Rosa.

Hell, weren’t you sitting
on that bus, too?

You are every-
body’s best friend

until you are not.

Hip-hop lyricologist.

Presumed athlete.

Free & Reduced sideshow.

Exception and caricature.

Too black and too white
all at once.

If you are successful

it is because
of affirmative action.

If you fail it is because

you were destined to.

You are invisible until they turn on
the Friday night lights.

Here you are star before
they render you asteroid.

Before they watch
you turn to dust.