Spotlight On: Hughes Poem Adapations

Let America Be My America Again

Skyela Agins, 2027

Let my America be America again

The land where every worker gets to clock in and is paid enough

The land where students can open their tuition bill and not cry

The land where your voice has power and it isn’t just white noise

The land we hope doesn’t vanish when the sunsets

(My America never was that America to me)

(I watched my parents worked two jobs and struggled just to pay rent)

Let my America be America again

Where immigrants are allowed to come and walk without fear

The land where the door is opened instead of closing in your face with laughter

The land where your skin, your gender, or who you loved does not decide how big your dreams get to be

(Saying this I speak for the ones who are left waiting outside)

(My America was never that America to me)

Let my America be America again

The land where every child does not go hungry

The land where the air is clean in every city so you can breathe

The land where justice won’t bend for money or color

The land where America is America for everyone

(I see the child on the street hungry for a meal they cannot reach)

(I hear sirens outside and know another dream mightt die tonight)

Let my America be America again

Not on paper nor in song

But in the hands of all the hearts who live and do labor here

Let my America be My America Again

Adriana Azcona, 2027

Let My America be America Again.

The dream that everyone can hold hands in unity and equality, 

Where ICE isn’t dehumanizing people 

as if their not loved by anyone

Pushing pregnant women to the floor, 

beating on kids, 

pepper spraying minors, 

All in the name of protection

(My America was never america to me)

( I am speaking from what I've seen in my own family)

Let my America be America Again.

The dream of living in the land of opportunity,

No one talks about the price beyond the cost of living 

One has to sell their soul to the unbreakable cycle working till their last breath drained of any motivation

(My America was never America to me)

(I've watched my mom work multiple jobs to pay living expenses)

Let my America be America again 

The quota of the pursuit of happiness being the nations morality 

  happiness demands on connections

skill matches. 

Unemployment rates increase poverty without qualification not everyone is initially entitled to.

(My America was never America to me)

(I'm speaking on behalf of unemployed individuals who didn’t get a fair share of life)

Let My America Be America Again 

So the next generation doesn’t have to endure 

What we have survived

The America For Me And You

Raven Azinge-Lee, 2027

Let America be America again,

For those who seek freedom,

For those who desire equality and peace,

As the land of the free isn’t what it seemed like to the naked eye.

(The American dream isn’t what it seems to me.)

For those who value moral and accountability,

For those who value being a community and coming together,

The corrupted and powerful often overlook the deeper meaning to building a strong nation,

As the dangers and trouble only become more known as time goes on,

The dream that always occurs, but they ignore it as if it’s JUST a thought.

(The American dream isn’t what it seems to me.)

Let America be great again,

America to me is a place of opportunity and equal rights for all,

The amount of hatred,

The amount of corruption and greed,

The amount of discrimination and social norms,

Why aren’t the stars aligning?

Why aren’t the numbers not adding up?

The dream we all had, but just never brought it up to reality.

(The question has gone on for too long, with enough time to figure it out-)

The land that was conquered for its quantity,

The land that belonged to those who were there first,

Who saw the true beauty and quality the land beared,

Mistreated,

Underappreciated,

Misunderstood,

A lifestyle that was forced upon them by the hands of the corrupted.

O, yes,

I am just one voice,

I am a young woman with brown skin,

I’m a bird who sometimes loses their way,

As I constantly fly over mountains of hardships and challenges,

But like Birds, they always get back up and keep soaring gracefully,

Through a sky full of uncertainty and dreams,

And that’s ok.

Dreams…

O, let America be great again,

Where our hard labor would be respected,

A home that embraces their people for who they are and their worth,

That doesn’t abuse the power it possesses but uses it to change the world for the better,

Where everyone can discover who they are without facing the threat of others,

An America with peace and harmony,

For me,

For you,

For all.

The Power of Money,

Elia Chijioke, 2027

Let my America Be My America

Where wealth doesn’t limit equality

Where the taxes’ twisted game doesn't leave loopholes,

While those in velvet seats, control more green

Leaving those dreams, to be unachieved

While some families struggle day to day

Nepo babies have everything paid 

They shout “hardwork pays off” 

But harsh reality sinks those words tough

They shout “hardwork pays off”

But we the middle class people have it rough

They shout “hardwork pays off”  

But some are oblivious, trapped in a gilded cage

Mistaking it for minimum wage 

Let My America Be MY America

Remove the secret and the lies

Or this fragile dream will fall to its demise

The Land of the Free and Home of the Brave.

Kayla Fantauzzi, 2027

“O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave.” 

Our land is full of free men and women.

Men and women of all races and religions,

Equality throughout every state.

We are the home of the brave.

Americans working together to keep our country safe,

Through blood, tears, and a warm embrace mixed with sympathy.

“O’er the land of the free...”

There is no freedom here.

Men and women arguing over who is “better.”

“You women are always so emotional”,

“You men are always liars and manipulative”.

The harsh words cut deep into your soul.

“These aliens are going to hurt us”

“These darker men are going to hurt us”

“These terrorists are going to hurt us”

You can almost taste that metallic blood pouring out.

The same blood that poured out of our brothers and sisters,

As they fought for our freedom that we’ve never seen.

“... and the home of the brave.”

There is no bravery here.

Americans hide from their problems,

Hoping maybe if they hide enough it’ll just go away.

It never leaves.

All that blood

All those tears 

That warm embrace mixed with sympathy is no longer.

Now it is just cowards.

People see police brutality and face the other way,

It’s not them so they don’t care.

“I won’t hurt you, I just want a home”,

It’s not them so they don’t care.

“Oh say can you see…”

I see a classroom full of young boys and girls.

They all sit in a circle,

All talking about their dreams and futures in our free country.

A girl says she wants to be a fire fighter

A boy says he wants to be a hair stylist.

Another girl says she wants to be president,

They all look at her with hope

That one day she really can be president.

“You can be anything you want to be!”

Except…America is full of stereotypes.

She is not strong enough to become a firefighter

He is too manly to do such a girly job

And God forbid a girl wants to try to become the president,

But people do not trust a woman to be in charge of them.

“Woman”

As if just the word itself was meant as an insult.

“...by the dawns early light”

You look out your window

And you see your neighbor mowing their lawn.

Their daughter and parents are sitting on the porch

And they look happy,

They look free

Except…America is full of stereotypes.

A few moments later trucks come speeding onto your street,

ICE runs out of the trucks

Guns in hand pointing at them.

“Keep your hands where I can see”

They’ve done nothing wrong, except for being Hispanic.

You’ll watch out of your window

As people walking by just record and walk away.

“This will get so many views on tiktok”

They were not free.

“O say does that star-spangled banner yet wave…”

The flag waves

But at what cost?

We are free

At least until the blood, sweat, and warm embrace mixed with sympathy

Is taken advantage of and used malevolently.

We are brave

At least until someone is being bullied

For their race, religion, gender,

Or even just their dreams

And people just watch because it’s not them.

But please

Let’s continue to believe,

Let’s continue to hope,

Let’s continue to ignore.

If you ignore enough, America can still be

“O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave”.

What America Means

Eric Green, 2027

This is what America means; a holy land

Blessed by God and held by his hands

Destiny manifests whether you’re black, broke or trans

Because that’s what America means.

(Yet you make my life hell

and then demonize me.)

This is what America means; a place to be free

The eagle gave an example to thee

Whether dark, colorful, or missing a wing to see

Spread your wings, because that’s what America means.

(Yet you cage me, take me out when I’m needed, 

clip my wings and then some.)

This is what America means; a land to be proud

Come out, don’t hide! You stick out in the crowd.

“Maybe just work harder!” they all say aloud,

So don’t complain; that’s what America means.

(I just want to sleep without fear or regrets,

it can’t be so hard to understand)

This is what America means?! You really have the nerve!

I create, uplift, and provide, and for the profits I’m left to starve?

I’m just as American as you, yet I’m left behind the curve--

--because of how I look, like, or live; that’s what America means.

(Don’t turn away. You understand everything I say.)

If this is where God sees us and blesses the land;

If this is a place, in my skin, to be free;

If this is a home where any to I can be vow’d;

If this is a nation where I can give them what they deserve;

That’d be great.

(Because that’s what America means)

America Holds Our Hand 

Kennedy Hendrix , 2027

Let America be America again 

We walk the streets celebrated, comfortable in the skin protected by laws 

We are called “equals”

We are valued, respected, built for succession 

We cross the border into the land of the free, our documents in hand

We are welcomed and encouraged to come  

We work long hours, pay bills, fall in love, build lives for ourselves here

We radiate confidence, our heads always held high, we know our rights

We are told we have a choice 

We are free, consensual, justice is on our side 

                            (This is not my America)   

We walk the streets targeted, our skin being an immediate threat 

              We are openly oppressed

We are overlooked, doubted, purposely blocked from growth 

We crossed the border into armed guards with our proof of worth in hand

             We are being warned before we give our names 

We struggle, owe, fear for the day our families are taken

We move with caution, our heads constantly on swivel, our rights are being questioned 

             We are restricted 

We are limited, forced, we know the system wants to silence us 

               (This should not be my America )

Let America be America again 

America Isn’t My America

Athalia Joachim, 2027

Let America be America again,

The place where simply working hard takes you miles,

The place where tomorrow is always promised,

The place where everyone is given a voice,

The place where you can be your own person.

Yet, I have to work twice as hard to only get half of what they get,

Yet, I fear for my life once police sirens are nearby,

Yet, the slightest bit of representation is considered ‘woke.’

Yet, stereotypes run the internet.

This isn’t my America.

Let America be America again,

Where beauty is in the eye of the beholder,

Where we see no color,

And where expression is ideal.

But I’m encouraged to make myself lighter,

But my dark skin sets me apart from my light-skinned counterparts, despite our same race,

But the moment I stand up for myself, I’m seen as angry

But the second my skin shows more than usual, I’m seen as a Jezebel.

But sure, this is my America?

Let America be America again,

So everyone can achieve their dreams here, 

So everyone can be happy here,

So everyone can be secure here,

So everyone can be open to new opportunities.

I force myself to work in a hospital instead of the beautiful design job I’ve always wanted,

I miss out on travelling because I simply can’t afford it,

I have to use money in my savings to make sure I don’t starve,

I open college acceptance letters, looking solely for my scholarships.

This is not my America.

Our America was never your America, 

And your America is a small will-o'-the-wisp we can only dream of. 

Feeling Unwelcomed

Delaney Gummel, 2027

Let my America be my America again, 

The place where people don't fear walking the streets,

The hope that a mother doesn’t fear for her child’s safety in schools,

The place where those with disabilities are accepted and not laughed at. 

The place where love is love, and those are not threatened for their love.

(The promise of safety and acceptance is false, no one is understanding of standing out or not fitting typical social norms) 

The land where every building is welcoming, and every classroom is inclusive,

The land where disabilities are understood, and not ignored and used as insults. 

The land where immigrants are seen as important additions to America and seen for their abilities. 

The land where unity overrules segregation.