They called us too much.
Too bold.
Too loud.
Too Black.
Too magical for their comfort.
So they trimmed us out of the frame.
Muted our hues.
Tucked our curls behind other people’s stories
and called it diversity.
We waited.
Waited for the books,
the toys,
the shows,
the fairytales
that looked like us.
Sometimes they came—
but always as a version.
A variation.
A checkbox.
A background singer
in someone else’s magic.
Until one day,
we stopped waiting.
We colored ourselves in.
Built worlds in full pigment.
Named each shade after our joy,
our defiance,
our softness,
our sisters.
We drew treehouses that became portals.
Girls who danced with the moon.
Families that passed down magic like heirlooms.
And kingdoms where every single color
meant something sacred.
Because representation isn’t decoration.
It’s reclamation.
It’s remembering that
Black girls deserve dragons, galaxies, and glitter too.
And we will not ask again.
-jaha Knight (c) dakari Moon 2025
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