PITTSBURGH — A local 18-year-old poet is making us proud to be from Pittsburgh. Jordan Scott is an Oakland Catholic high school student who has won two local poetry writing awards, including one from Carnegie Mellon University.
Scott is also a Crossroads scholar, participating in a program which helps teenagers in underserved communities throughout Allegheny County attend local Catholic high schools. The local nonprofit supports 150 students this school year and guides them through the college application process and a mentor program.
Scott says she found a passion for writing and it’s given her a voice to share her perspective of being a black female in today’s world. Her poem “Miss Mulatto” won her first place in her school at the Carnegie Mellon University MLK Writing Awards. This year, she took second at Alpha Alpha Omega Chapter MLK writing competition.
Her poem, which can be read below, is about acceptance.
“It’s about acceptance, it’s about being more open minded of other people’s experiences,” said Jordan Scott. “Just learning to ask mindful questions.”
Scott is now deciding which college she will go to. She plans to stay in the area and study political science.
TRENDING NOW:
Miss Mulatto
By: Jordan Scott
My mother’s skin is
Dark like the midnight sky
Her complexion is
smooth like chocolate
Her thick braids
worn like a crown on her head
Are a symbol
of her natural beauty
Her features are larger than
life itself
Her figure is easy on the eyes
Not flaunted as if
asking for unwanted attention
But exuding confidence in her image
Despite the foul history
that plagues her people
And the false ideas that
Some still cling to
Like scriptures from the Lord’s
good Book
But still she continues to rise
As Maya Angelou did during more difficult times
Not angry with the world for her fate
But learning to leave the past behind
And ignore people whose minds are forever content
With believing the one-story trope of a black woman
My father’s image
on the other hand
Is like the yang to her yin
His blue eyes and straight brown hair
His Ivory skin
and lighter complexion
Were like a silver spoon
A permanent leg up on the competition
And a golden ticket to live life on a whim
The difference between my father
and others with The same privilege
is this;
He never used the ticket
He saw color
but he also saw
Composure
And personality
And how people carried themselves
And that’s why he chose my mom
Over any plastic Barbie doll
that could have been his
Dream girl
And his trophy wife
thus completing the seemingly perfect picture
Of the typical American family
But my dad didn’t want the perfect life
And he didn’t want to live easy and carefree
What he wanted was a wife
And at that someone who had
confidence Enough
to be true to herself
And understand where she came from
Someone who had come to accept
the way things were
Because she knew that
all some people would see when
They looked at her
Was a mad black woman with issues that
Stemmed from a
Very Long and
Very Ugly history
That Some people would
never bother to understand
At times they noticed how different they were
When they would walk hand in hand
Living without a care in the world
As though they were the only souls that existed
On God’s green earth
Until they noticed
the stares of an audience
Who didn’t know how to feel
about the times That were changing
faster than the Colors of the sky
at different times of the day
But like fresh caramel they stuck together
And they rose above the words of hate
And the non-believers who underestimated
The strength of their hearts and
The love they had for each other
And that’s why after fifteen years of memories
And fifteen years of getting to know each other
And finding common ground to stand on
As well as trying to realize
That there were differences
they wouldn’t ever Understand Completely
but learned to accept as though
it was their own life being told to them
Church bells rang and they made their love known
To a sea of people with smiling faces more unique than
The snowflakes during the first snow of
The winter season
And three years after that
I was introduced to the world
At first glance my complexion
was pale like my father’s
But as i grew older
my skin developed
a tone as thick as honey
My eyes were hazel
instead of brown or blue
And as I grew my own mane of hair
I noticed it was
nothing like my mom’s or my dad’s
It never had a lot of kinks
but it wasn’t as fine and straight
as it could’ve been
And it proved a challenge at first
when my mother tried to give it
the same treatment as her own
But my troubles only grew
when I started school
and Children who didn’t
understand my uncommon situation
Would point
and stare
and call me names
because they were too young
To understand that there was beauty in my appearance
And my differences were a part of my identity
And that even though I knew I was different
I didn’t like people asking to touch my hair
Because I don’t enjoy feeling like some show pony
At a petting zoo
And i didn’t like being asked questions
That I didn’t understand
about myself at the time
Because even though
they were only being curious
I still felt like an alien of sorts
A being held in A lab
Separated by sound-proof glass
as scientists tried to figure out
Who I was and why I existed
But as I matured I saw it for myself
A light bulb turned on in my brain
And I had an epiphany
That I needed to realize
so much sooner than I did
I used to see my existence
as two different paths
And I used to try and choose
which path to Walk down
Which stereotype to fit into
Which role to play in a society
That’s still trying to change itself
for the better
But now I know that
I am an experience
And I’m an experience that some people
Will never understand
And that’s why they would
make ignorant comments
They didn’t understand
the reason people that
Look like me are the new normal
In the melting pot we call home
And some people never will understand
Who I am
And what I’m all about
And the fact that I don’t fit into
A mold that has no real
value
Or significance
Or control over who I choose to be
And that’s okay
Because I now understand that
I am me
And I won’t let
what others expect me to be
And what people
expect me to act like
Dictate my actions like a puppet
Whose strings are tied on too tight
Because I am who I am
And that’s all that matters