I asked the crossing guard where the library was.
I told her I got bored in the afternoons.
And she told me to go play double Dutch.
But I donít double Dutch.
I asked my teacher what some good colleges were.
I told her I wanted to be a doctor.
And she told me that I would end up a cook.
But I donít cook.
I asked the white girl next door how I could get some extra money.
I told her I wanted to buy a telescope.
And she told me to go be a prostitute to some white men, and maybe I could buy my way out of jail.
But I donít want to do that to myself.
I asked my preacher why God was always pictured as white.
I told him that God couldnít be one race or another.
And he said to me "Why would God want to be black?"
But why wouldnít He want to be black?
So I told the crossing guard, and my teacher, and that white girl, and my preacher
That I was proud of who I was
But I would not conform to who they wanted me to be.
Maybe if people would stop labeling things "black" or "white,"
And see that itís whatís inside that counts,
We could all get along.
But until then I refuse to double Dutch.