" A Brown Girl's Guide To Gender" Poem by Sheri Kuzco

'''At the age of eleven. Twelve. When my mom first told me that boys would want to touch me. Would want to put their hands in between my thighs, or lay them across my breast.
I was confident she was wrong.
When I later began to understand what rape meant, and the kind of strength it took to fight it.
I was confident that I was strong enough to fight it.
When I was taught the importance of the word "No". I was confident I would never have to use it. And even if I did, somehow the power in that syllable, seems to be incomprehensible.
Consent, they said was what mattered. And it seemed like, if I didn't give it, no one would dare to lay a hand on me.
I found myself repeating to myself in the mirror.
"No, no, no, no, no"
confident that I was loud enough to be heard.
And finally, someday, when my breasts were fuller and my hips wider
To be held, encircled, by two firm, clasping hands.
I found that he had the confidence to take what he wanted.
To view my body as his right.
Confident that if my no was soft,
"No, no, no, No"
it was a yes.''
Akansha and Poorvika