I am Siane François, a 17 year old girl in the Phoenix Valley. I’m a biracial member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, the daughter of two immigrants, and I enroll myself in all AP and honors classes. As a race, humans are better together, every race, gender, sexuality, ability, religion, economic background, and so on. It is time to realize we have so much more in common than what separates us, and that we begin to work together to allow everyone to enjoy the best opportunities in life. I’ve made it my personal mission to pursue the continuum of equity and I hope that this poem will resonate with you and show you why.
The Peccant Dandelion
By Siane François
I live in a field of flowers, nestled between a rose and a lily
I’m the small dandelion who know she’s quite pretty
The rose is so nice and the lily is so fun
And we all dance together in our pursuit of the sun
And we all live happily, right here in our field
Growing flowers and seeds to one day yield
We live equally and we all try to grow
For our sunny days are all that we know
And when the sun sets and the stars grow bright
We laugh and make memories all through the night
Life is sweet for a new sapling like me
And I’m just so grateful to live with all my friends so carefree
But this night is different, although I don’t know it
Someone has come to disrupt our happy moments
And as I ponder the stars in the sky
For last innocent night in my young life
I know my worth, and I know that I am strong
For I managed to grow about the big, beautiful flowers that I am among
We are all similar, though different in looks
We all are here to bring about beauty in our nooks
We each had to grow, and for each it was hard
And each suffered varying trials that worked to mar
But alas, for one last, still night
We are flowers pondering the stars that shine bright
As the sun rises, a red light stretches over the field
And we become aware of a man that the night concealed
We bloom extra big to show off the fruits of our labor
And wait excitedly for the reaction of our new neighbor
The man stretches, rising slowly; we all hold our breath, blooming wholly
The man strides along our rows of flowers
His gaze seems to stretch upon us for hours
Then finally he speaks, surveying us and our reeds
“This field is beautiful, except for the weeds”
A weed! What’s a weed?! Why did he say it so mean?
Does he mean that some of us are worth less than we seem?
No, that cannot be right, we are all worth the same
And then the wretched man bends down and begins to maim
He pulls at the shepherd’s purse, tears at the crabgrass
And all flowers scream as he exacts death on the mass
He rips out the lamb quarters and snatches a morning glory
Then he plucks a dandelion and I know that he is coming for me
This is so wrong, it hurts so much
He is tearing through us as though it’s a grudge
He passes the lilies, the peonies, the roses
And continues to kill us, however he supposes
He wrenches some purslane and I don’t understand
Why he continues to rip precious life from the land
What is a weed and why is it bad
Why am I targeted for the petals I have
When he pulls the dandelions, he never blows their seeds
So he kills all that life and won’t appreciate our breed
The man trudges closer, and I’m scared that I might
Die At the hand of some man who has come to judge my plight
This man does not know all that I have done to live
He has no right to take away what I give
My bright yellow petals are my contribution
Why does he seem to deem them pollution
I worked hard to grow, and that is my right
Why is it that the roses do not share the same plight
All the flowers cry and scream at murders being committed at our scene
He grows ever closer, and my fear starts to evolve
Into anger at the man for his destruction resolve
We all have the same right to our lives
We all worked hard for our right to survive
Why did this man get to exert his opinion
Upon us nice plants living in our dominion
Who was going to determine my life for me
Who could deny me the right of my liberty
This soil is mine and my roots are my own
The leaves and seeds I have grown are my own
I have made my mark here upon this dirt spot in the land
And I was going to bloom bright right here where I can
No one can take my right to live
And no one can give to this world what I give
I am unique, just one dandelion
But I have brought wonder like stars in Orion
But when I am plucked from the ground as a weed
And someone blows upon me and my seeds
And when the wind carries those seeds through the trees
I’ll be left knowing I have done right by my breed
And as I fall from the hands of a wisher, a stem of no use
And as my life drains for my grip upon it grows loose
I think of each seed carried in the breeze
And I can smile knowing they’ve been given the keys
To start a new life somewhere in the land
And bring about beauty and happiness wherever they land
For their worth, like my own, is for no one to determine
And their beauty will flourish, despite some developer’s chagrin
For who we are and what we give, is the reason we demand the right to live
We bring about beauty, unique and chaste, and that gift is not something we plan to waste
And so we will bloom wherever we can, and we’ll fight to rise up in the dirt of the land
For our beauty and right to live is our own, and no one can take it, wherever we’ve grown
In a field of flowers, each one works to bloom, and each has a struggle, trials that bring about gloom
But each plant grows right here in our field, and each has a story of how it got here
Some are big, some are small, some smell quite nice, and some not at all
But our field of flowers is a beauty to behold for all of the life it chooses to hold
And when someone comes to judge all our work, we’ll worry not, standing tall in the earth
Their voice doesn’t matter, their words have no effect
For whose choice is it that a rose has more worth than the small little dandelion here in the dirt
If you have any questions of thoughts for Siane, email curious@culturesofdignity.com
