In response to "different" names

During our trip in Mississippi, some of the children we had the privilege of meeting had extraordinary names. Some would consider their names "different" or "odd", but I see them as creative and bold gifts given to the children.

Here is a poem dedicated to the children of Mississippi (and all across the nation) with names not given the appreciation that they deserve.

To brown children with syllable-slicked names,
know you are silk language.
crystal fibre of woven consonants and vowels.

Tanjenekia
Southern baked name simmering in deep fried drawl.
Momma Mississippi scrapping up all she could,
pasting together a Brown Girl's identity.
Momma making certain pronouncing her name will be an adventure.
Ensuring Brown Girl masters the recipe of struggle,
before she realizes the true meaning of hungry and broke.
Before broke has multiple meanings, under a callous man's hands.

Brown child
Know you are privilege. All tongues weren't taught to twist taboo.
Foreigners who can't trespass will taunt you in envy
Judge you by name before they meet you
Strip planks of dignity with labels: Ghetto, illiterate.
Ignorant because they will never know the sweet flavor
of rolling plump sound between plain of tongue, blades of teeth.
How it feels audacious, exactly like your existence.
Squeezing life and light through dark, narrow channel
Attempting to birth possibilities out of nothing but air and muscle.