People ask me, "Why do you talk about race so much? Why do
you talk about oppression,racism, and prejudice,so much? Its 2013. It's not
like you ever went through anything like that." Hmmmm...then, I think
about that cop that pulled my 9 month pregnant ass over, and pulled a gun in my
face ( for no damn reason, in good ol' Florence, KY) and I say,"Yep,
you're right. Racism is a thing of the past (except for the fact that happened
in 2007)." Or, my friend's friend who asked them:" How's the darkie?"
Ummm...blank stare. Or the brother of a guy that I was dating, calling
him," a nigger lover." Yep, that happened ( in 2010)...And, ignorance
is bliss; its even more blissful when you're in the majority that more than
likely will never experience anything like that
May
I also add that I’m raising a young black male? I look at his bright eyes, and
that mischievous smile, relishing in the fact that he’s young for now, and without
a care about the ways of the world. I
watch how he rocks his little hoodie over his head, and sneakers, thinking he’s
so cool, and cute; not knowing someone out there may deem him, no, not his
attire, HIM dangerous. And my heart
sinks in that knowledge. I’m afraid of living in a predominantly white
neighborhood, afraid of the racism that he will
encounter one day. I’m afraid to move and search for a more “diverse”
neighborhood, because the schools are not as high ranking in education and do
not have equal resources, nor the funding.
What do you know about being in fear of your child growing up in a world
where he has to be so careful to arouse any indication that he may be dangerous,
because of his blackness. I’m so scared of when he becomes a teenager, because
we all know how teenagers are- black, white, yellow, etc.- without a care in
the world, and a disdain for authority. Only some kids will have the benefit of doubt, you know, ”
kids will be kids,” but he won’t because it’s assumed that its innate to him to
be defiant, and up to no good. When you have children, if you have children,
your porcelain dolls, you don’t worry about teachers discriminating against them, not
given them full attention, or somehow undermining them and their confidence,
because of the color of their skin. You’re not worried about your kids being
teased, because of their skin color. You're not worried about your kids being singled out. You’re not worried about your kid, the only
child of color in a daycare, being sent to the other room “to take a nap,”
while the other kids are playing and being tended to. Are you worried about
child coming home to you, and asking,” Mommy, which is better? Dark brown, or
light brown skin? .” And try, as you may, you can’t convince them that neither
is better, because they’re shown the opposite- day after day. Your heart doesn’t break in million pieces
when your beautiful niece tells you, “being brown isn’t beautiful, and only
peach (white) is.” Mind you, she’s only 6.
So don’ tell me
racism is over while you enjoy your white privilege, not being overtly racist
yourself, but taking full advantage of the systemic, symbolic racism in this
country. Don’t tell me about it. I don’t want to hear it.
I’m not sorry for telling you like
it is. I’m not sorry that you think I’m an angry black woman. I’m angry that
you even assume that I have no right to be angry. Oh, I’m angry, all right. And
rightfully so. How dare you assume you
know how I feel, and my concerns? How dare you tell me what year we’re in, and
that we have a black president now? So that means racism is over? Do you not hear what they say about him on national television? Bold. Oh, that’s bold when
you can mock the President of the United States via racial jokes and innuendos.
That’s boldness when you can do that, and get away with it. You know why? Because there are plenty of folks that feel the same way you do, and you have
confidence in that. Before Barack Obama was President, I even believed race
relations were getting better, but I take it back. The things that I’ve seen,
heard, read since he’s become President, I never thought I would
encounter. So I’m not sorry, that all
you have to worry about is that your kids go to school, and hope they stay out
of trouble, when I am sick with worry that trouble will find my child, somehow,
like that mother whose child never came back from the store, and was killed
for…wait for it… wearing a hoodie, and looking suspicious. All because a black boy with a
hoodie in a gated community is abnormal. Strange, eh? You don’t say.
Don’t tell me about the fact that all you have to do stay in school, get an
education, and apply for a job, not worried that somehow you won’t get it
because of your skin color, or you won’t even get an interview because of your
black or foreign name- unless you’re Asian (yep, had to throw that in there
lol). I’m not sorry for making you uncomfortable. I am sorry for the times I’ve
spend with my white friends, and they made jokes that were inappropriate, and
rather racist, and I didn’t say anything. I am sorry for thinking, “ oh, he
doesn’t mean that.” Or making excuses, that because WE were friends, they
weren’t that bad. I’m not sorry for being against racism. I’m not sorry for
speaking my views. I’m not sorry for calling you out on the fact that, no , YOU
CAN’T RELATE. You never will. The only thing you can do is become more
conscious. Maybe, have more foreign or
black friends, other than me. Wow, yeah, I went there. People say segregation
is over. No, its not. You will never see a more segregated place than a college
campus. The black kids with black kids, the white kids with white kids, the
Asians with other Asians, Arabs with Arabs; except for the random ones that are
the only person of color (like myself ), or maybe, an actual group of people from
different places.
Be the change you want to see in the
world.
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