I dreamt of my Harlem Renaissance,
but in elementary school, we split crayons.

I moved, got into the bougie school
Where they talk to me about struggle, but do they know strife?
Have they been sung to sleep with the sounds of gunshots at night?
Have they cried about policemen?
Or wondered IF the bills will be paid?

But!

Do they know the joy of bubbles in the backyard,
or a Sunday pancake breakfast?
The wink of a DIY firework highlighted by a 4th of July sky?
The joy I feel riding through my home in the daylight?

The murals on the buildings that show MY super people,
the quiet of the library, where the smell of the bookcases welcomes me.

The Harlem Renaissance was a movement.

But this.
Is a way of life,
Vibrant, glorious, colorful, sparkling,
Inspiring, worthy life.
One, that is my paradise.

Sarah Lokenauth, is in 11th grade at Atlanta International School