White Lies by Natasha Trethewey
Growing up I could tell all kinds of lies. It did not matter what kind, big or small, to me they were just white lies.
I could deceive people about where I lived or even where I bought my clothes.
With every lie I told, however, my mother was there to correct me. She would discipline me and wash my mouth out with soap. She and I thought it would wash the lies out of me. So I did as I was told and hoped it would work.
Good job, James. I love "White Lies." It's an interesting poem because it plays on "white," so the lies are not only small untruths, they're also lies about race. The persona is "near-white" and can pass for white, which upsets her mother. When the persona is getting her mouth washed out with soap, she is hoping the suds will "work/from the inside out," that they will make her truly white. It makes me sad that the persona doesn't feel proud about who she is. Nancy
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