Sis let me tell you…….
Let me preface this by saying that my existence is that of a black woman.
I know NOT what it is like to be an Asian man, Latina woman, transgender European, or ANYTHING else…. I know what it is to be a black woman.
I say this because nothing in my experience negates that of anyone else’s experience, and I am not ignorant enough to believe that I am the only person going through hardships…
I am speaking my truth, and the truth that has been said to me from other people who share the same experience that I do.
(I don’t have time for anyone not being intelligent enough to understand my reality because they are trying to defend theirs, let me be CLEAR)
Now, being black is an amazing experience.
My people are so creative. Our music, our voices, or movies, our dances, our contributions to the arts are out of this world.
My people are intelligent. After all we did invent: Caller ID, touch-tone cell phones, pacemakers, gas mask, traffic signal, walker, IBM personal computers, closed circuit television, and SO much more.
My people are infectious. Our culture has been imitated in so many ways across modern civilizations.
My people are beautiful. The darker ones, the lighter ones, the ones with hyper pigmentation and a lack there of, the ones with alopecia, the ones with weaves, the ones with natural hair, the ones with natural bodies, the ones with implants… all of them… my people are beautiful period.
The problem is, it is EXHAUSTING to be black.
I wake up each morning to go to a job where the ratio of black employees to white counterparts is 1:4….. Each day I am reminded in one way or another that I am not like the rest.
I have to perform in every area of my life ( not just work) in ways greater than others just to have a seat at the table.
While I do this, I must also make sure that I have a positive attitude, never appear angry, watch the way that I wear my hair, ensure that I am digestible for those around me, and never come off to radical. I mean damn, I already have a full time job who wants to have two?!
I try to keep a positive mindset about all of this, but then I see the news and I see things like Prada releasing a line of characters that look like a mocking of blackface cartoons. I then scroll through the comments on the article and see comments about “niggers staying in their place”. What place is that exactly? I need for someone to answer that question to me. (I mean, if you wanted us to stay in our place why not leave us in Africa and build this country with your own blood sweat and tears as opposed to the brute strength and tenacity of my people, but I guess that would have been too much)….
I see things like the H&M ad with a child with a shirt that infers that he is a monkey.
Everyone tells us to calm down and just take these things as mistakes by companies but do they know that little black children used to be put in cages ( the ones we put our dogs in now) and had people viewing them in human zoos?! Like we were animals… & this was not in 1862… This was in 1906…. My great grandmother was alive in 1906 and she spoke frequently about the horror stories her family would tell about what was happening in those zoos in the south. (She was a white woman as well so don’t come for me and say she was remembering wrong, she got invited to her fair share of lynchings/zoos).
THIS SHIT IS HARD.
It is hard as a black woman to sit back and watch my male friends go out for a night of fun.
I have a brother who is covered in tattoos and loves to wear a hoodie, how do you think I feel when I see his Instagram photos where he is dressed to go out for the night? Let me answer: a little part of me is praying he gets home okay.
My boyfriend is 6’7 and dark, he literally has to be overly energetic and positive just so he doesn’t come off intimidating. He is only afforded one emotion in public: happy. Any other emotion could result in his death. Every time he is driving a good distance at night I toss and turn and pray that he doesn’t get pulled over, because let’s be honest all he has to do is exsist and he looks threatening.
I am so tired of having this reality. This never ending fight to prove my worth ( even though on numerous occasions I am the most educated by traditional means, and most awarded person in the room). I am tired of constantly worrying about the men that I love. I am tired of having to tame every ounce of emotion that I have. I won’t ever be classified as the ‘sassy’ one, I will be the b^tch.
I have to be quiet. I have to let them touch my hair. I have to let them tell me that I remind them of the only other black girl that used to work here. I have to fake a smile. I have to act like I like Starbucks ( I said what I said). I have to assimilate. Let me rephrase that, I don’t have to do any of these things…. I just do them in order to survive.
They say that heavy is the head that weighs the crown, well being a black woman comes with a crown that in 2018 we are STILL paying and fighting for.
Although this existence may be hard. Although I may be tired. Although I may be discouraged.
I am PROUD and that, will never change.
To my people, we will persevere.
To ALL disenfranchised, discriminated against, and TIRED people I am with you.