Hyster-Sister Rant ~ a poem by Mel Edwards

Hyster-Sister Rant
by Mel. Edwards

Why did you think the only connection we could have would be spawn?
Does offspring = purpose?
Is my childless life without meaning?

180,000 hours, at least, I’ve been a substitute parent.
That’s 1000+ kids, at least one hour per day, times 180 school days a year, divided by 24 hours that birth parents own the role, totals out at 7,500 hours.
That translates to 20.5479425… years of parenthood, not of twins, triples or even quints but up to 31 angels at a time.

So, now that you’ve got that, let’s get down to the real.
You, woman, are not a wife/mother/sister/daughter/girlfriend FIRST.
First, you are a person who wants, needs and, dammit, desires.
Don’t categorize me by my role in the lives of others,
or yourself for that matter.
Learn the size of my brain, my heart, my vision
for a world where anyone
any single or trans/inter gender/image/size/color/age/brain
Can do whatever art, career, quest that
she/he/we
elect to shout, sing, dance, hobble,
toil, think, mumble, wobble and wail about.
Don’t tell me I need to be a wife/mother/sister/daughter/girlfriend so I can fill ancient rolls that you think my gender requires.
Instead, stop that babble of shoulda, coulda, woulda and SIT down.
I said,
SIT down,
not for minute, an hour a day
but until you’ve had all the stories your heart can hold:

My story,
Your story,
HERstory.

Then get UP, sister, and spread

My story,
Your Story,
OURstory,
knowing the vision of our world has come,
and help the poor bastards
that don’t know it yet.