AI, Aint I A Woman?
By - Joy Buolamwini
My heart smiles as I bask in their legacies
Knowing their lives have altered many destinies
In her eyes, I see my mother's poise
In her face, I glimpse my auntie's grace
In this case of deja vu
A 19th century question comes into view
In a time, when Sojourner truth asked
"Ain't I a woman?"
Today, we pose this question to new powers
Making bets on artificial intelligence, hope towers
The Amazonians peek through
Windows blocking Deep Blues
As Faces increment scars
Old burns, new urns
Collecting data chronicling our past
Often forgetting to deal with
Gender race and class, again I ask
"Ain't I a Woman?"
Face by face the answers seem uncertain
Young and old, proud icons are dismissed
Can machines ever see my queens as I view them?
Can machines ever see our grandmothers as we knew them?
Ida B. Wells, data science pioneer
Hanging facts, stacking stats on the lynching of humanity
Teaching truths hidden in data
Each entry and omission, a person worthy of respect
Shirley Chisholm, unbought and unbossed
The first black congresswoman
But not the first to be misunderstood by machines
Well-versed in data drive mistakes
Michelle Obama, unabashed and unafraid
To wear her crown of history
Yet her crown seems a mystery
To systems unsure of her hair
A wig, a bouffant, a toupee?
Are there no words for our braids and our locks?
Does sunny skin and relaxed hair
Make Oprah the first lady?
Even for her face well-known
Some algorithms fault her
Echoing sentiments that strong women are men
We laugh celebrating the successes
Of our sisters with Serena smiles
No label is worthy of our beauty.