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Why Mama?
by Sandi Moodi, an unofficial mentor to many young people

Sent to the store for a loaf of bread
My Mama said with a pat on the head
Go straight to the store, don't make no fuss
And remember to sit in the back of the bus.

But, why Mommy?

Getting ready to go outside and play
'Cause it was such a nice sunny day
Mama said to be good and to mind
But remember those kids next door, they ain't our kind.

But, why Mommy?

A new church went up just down the street
The music on Sunday it sounded so neat
I asked my mama if I could go to Sunday School
She said, they ain't our people, don't be such a fool.

But, why Mommy?

I'm 16 now, growing older and wiser
In school I want to learn more and more
But the teachers ignore me and hold me back
My Mama says it's 'cause my skin is too black.

But, why Mommy?

Why, Mommy, does it have to be this way?
Why, Mommy, I just want to play?
Why, Mommy, a cry heard throughout time.
Why, Mommy, a haunting echo in our mind.

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