Together We Will Win (Dramatic Poem Honoring Rosa Parks), by Riche' Deianne Richardson, at age 17

Together We Will Win
(Dramatic Poem Honoring Rosa Parks)
Written 2/1/1989 (in chemistry class)
By Riché Deianne Richardson, at age 17

I attended the historic St. Jude Educational Institute in Montgomery, Alabama, best known as the final camping place for Selma-to-Montgomery Marchers in 1965, and so it occupies an important place in U.S. civil rights history. When I was a senior there, I wrote this poem one day during some down time in chemistry class (seniors had taken physics junior year), and entered it in a city-wide poetry contest; it won a first-place prize. At the time, I was student council president at St. Jude, and also newspaper editor. In the role of student council president, I was responsible for a range of things, from planning the Mass of the Holy Spirit that kicked off the year, along with our annual Coronation Ball -for which we had actually paid cash given the extensive fundraising activities that I had developed and coordinated the year before as student council vice-president-to planning our four annual school-wide black history assemblies which were held weekly during Black History Month. Ones that I designed included an assembly entitled “Black South Africa: Crying for Mercy, Crying for Freedom,” which was inspired by an encounter I'd had with a leader from TransAfrica during an event at the Community House in Montgomery, and a session in which two panels were organized to consider in juxtaposition the views of Malcolm X and Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

I'll never forget that a teacher, in this case a white man, who was cool otherwise, raised the question in the classroom, seemingly in light of all the activities, “Why black history month, what’s the difference?” Why not Chinese history month? He went on and on, naming a range of groups. There was total silence. I looked to my left, and then to my right, and finally, straight ahead at him. I broke the silence by responding that “The difference is that this nation was built on the backs of black people.” I felt obligated to respond because as student council president I had been primarily responsible for developing the assemblies that year, and perceived what he said as a kind of attack on them.

This moment may have been one that my friend Charles was pointing to the day he and I, as college students, were sitting in my living room after freshman year reflecting back on high school. He told me that the thing he most admired about me back then was that "You said what you had to say, did what you had to do, and didn't think about the consequences." I'd only add that in some cases, I didn't care. For my convictions have always meant everything to me. I have always been invested in being a woman for all seasons and in having the courage and integrity to stick to my convictions, and if necessary, to even die for them. As Dr. King said, if a man never discovers anything in life that he's willing to die for, he's not fit to live. The poem, which I first performed publicly on Mother’s Day during a mass at St. Jude, was written in three voices: Rosa Parks’s, the bus driver, and an omniscient speaker’s. I also performed it in contexts such as Atlanta’s First World Writers, and most recently, in Paris for a group of high school students to whom I was speaking as a cultural envoy in 2009. Segments of it were also published in Spelman College’s literary magazine, Focus, during my freshman year of college. Incidentally, Rosa Parks is often referred to as the best friend of my great aunt, Johnnie Rebecca Carr, who led the Montgomery Improvement Association, and has made important contributions to civil rights history as well.

I am very tired today,
My work has made me weary-
But, I really need the pay.
Why must my days be dreary?

Get up, lady, we need your chair,
There’s no room in the front.
Who cares if you’re in despair
Just give us what we want!

I work so hard to make ends meet
Yet many rights I lack.
And he won’t let me rest my feet
I’m hated because I’m black
My ancestors had to fight and die
And I’ll be just as brave
This unjust system I will defy
I won’t be made a slave
I am a parent –the mother of
A future generation
Upon it I will show love
I’ll be its foundation
The children don’t deserve this sorrow
This harsh reality.
They deserve a better tomorrow
In short-equality.
Now I wonder what I can do
To change these harsh conditions.
How can I make our dreams come true?
I’ll take a new position!
Tomorrow is not good enough,
I must start right away.
Times are getting much too tough,
That’s why I’ll start today.
I’m tired of this strife and grief
So I am sitting down.
It’s time for my people to have relief,
Thus, I will hold my ground.
Today my race will start anew,
This system we will beat.
I’m not getting up for you,
I’m staying in my seat.

Lady are you forgetting your place?
You know that I’m the master!

I’ll sit back and support my race
That’s right-I’ll court disaster.
I’ll get the respect that I deserve,
My people I won’t fail!

Lady, you’ve got a lot of nerve,
So you will go to jail!

Fine! I will gladly go today
And I would go again.
For my people I’ll make a way
Together we will win.

Thank you, Rosa Parks, for being
A symbol for everyone
You gave us the eyes for seeing
And feet to stand upon
You are the mother of a quest,
A proud quest for improvement.
Indeed, you are the very best,
The mother of our movement.
You’ve given us a legacy,
And this, we’ll carry on.
We’ll fight until we’re fully free
Until we’ve truly won.