The instructor said, <br /> <br />Go home and write <br />a page tonight. <br />And let that page come out of you-- <br />Then, it will be true. <br /> <br />I wonder if it's that simple? <br />I am twenty-two, colored, born in Winston-Salem. <br />I went to school there, then Durham, then here <br />to this college on the hill above Harlem. <br />I am the only colored student in my class. <br />The steps from the hill lead down into Harlem, <br />through a park, then I cross St. Nicholas, <br />Eighth Avenue, Seventh, and I come to the Y, <br />the Harlem Branch Y, where I take the elevator <br />up to my room, sit down, and write this page: <br /> <br />It's not easy to know what is true for you or me <br />at twenty-two, my age. But I guess I'm what <br />I feel and see and hear, Harlem, I hear you: <br />hear you, hear me--we two--you, me, talk on this page. <br />(I hear New York, too.) Me--who? <br />Well, I like to eat, sleep, drink, and be in love. <br />I like to work, read, learn, and understand life. <br />I like a pipe for a Christmas present, <br />or records--Bessie, bop, or Bach. <br />I guess being colored doesn't make me not like <br />the same things other folks like who are other races. <br />So will my page be colored that I write? <br /> <br />Being me, it will not be white. <br />But it will be <br />a part of you, instructor. <br />You are white-- <br />yet a part of me, as I am a part of you. <br />That's American. <br />Sometimes perhaps you don't want to be a part of me. <br />Nor do I often want to be a part of you. <br />But we are, that's true! <br />As I learn from you, <br />I guess you learn from me-- <br />although you're older--and white-- <br />and somewhat more free. <br /> <br />This is my page for English B.<br /><br />Langston Hughes<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/theme-for-english-b/
