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Theme for English B
Langston Hughes
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The instructor said, |
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Go home and write |
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a page tonight. |
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And let that page come out of you— |
| 5 | then, it will be true. |
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I wonder if it’s that simple? |
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I am twenty-two, colored, born in Winston-Salem. |
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I went to school there, then Durham, then here |
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to this college on the hill above Harlem. |
| 10 | I am the only colored student in my class. |
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The steps from the hill lead down into Harlem, |
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through a park, then I cross St. Nicholas, |
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Eighth Avenue, Seventh, and I come to the Y, |
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the Harlem Branch Y, where I take the elevator |
| 15 | up to my room, sit down, and write this page: |
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It’s not easy to know what is true for you or me |
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at twenty-two, my age. But I guess I’m what |
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I feel and see and hear. Harlem, I hear you: |
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hear you, hear me—we two—you, me, talk on this page. |
| 20 | (I hear New York, too.) Me—who? |
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Well, I like to eat, sleep, drink, and be in love. |
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I like to work, read, learn, and understand life. |
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I like a pipe for a Christmas present, |
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or records—Bessie, bop, or Bach. |
| 25 | I guess being colored doesn’t make me not like |
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the same things other folks like who are other races. |
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So will my page be colored that I write? |
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Being me, it will not be white. |
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But it will be |
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| 30 | a part of you, instructor. |
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You are white— |
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yet a part of me, as I am a part of you. |
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That’s American. |
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Sometimes perhaps you don’t want to be a part of me. |
| 35 | Nor do I often want to be a part of you. |
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But we are, that’s true! |
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As I learn from you, |
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I guess you learn from me— |
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although you’re older—and white— |
| 40 | and somewhat more free. |
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This is my page for English B. |