This week’s blog post was going to start with an apology for what I thought may offend some people. But then I got to thinking, why on God’s beautiful earth should I apologize for what I say on my blog? Emphasis on MY. Why should I apologize or feel remotely sorry for what is my given rights as a legal tax paying citizen? Fuck skin color, fuck race, ethnicity, economic and social backgrounds. At the end of the day we all have the same blue passport and government issued social security cards so if you don’t like what I have to say then stop here. Naturally this post isn’t meant to offend or cause even more racial separation than there already is (even if you refuse to acknowledge it). It’s simply my way of expressing how I feel in the best way I know how to. My hope is to inspire others to continue the conversation and share their own thoughts and opinions.
my blackness. It doesn’t make sense to everyone. Hell, it barely made sense to me in the beginning. But it is not intended to make sense to everyone. If you are threatened by my blackness, or live in fear of blackness, I can’t help you. I am not here to explain my blackness to you nor am I here to help you understand the beauty of my melanin. I am in no way concerned about the ways my blackness SHOULD fit into your world. Cry, scream, be disgusted if you must. I am not worried about how I choose to express it and any consequences thereafter.
MY blackness. It took a long time for me to find my blackness, my place and relationship in and/ to black culture. There were many times during my childhood where I tried to ignore restless blackness inside of me. Numerous times did I imagine how different my life would be with a smaller nose, lighter skin that I would actually want to be friends with the sun, and silky hair so silky they would have no choice but to wonder if I was mixed. No matter how much I fantasied, I have always known that I AM black. No matter my desire to change my appearance for “an easier life,” I have always felt the most connected appreciated by my black counterparts. I am a part of the blackness that is “bound by all the beautiful things, all the language and mannerisms, all the food and music, all the literature and philosophy, all the common language that they fashioned like diamonds under the weight of the Dream.” -Ta-Nehisi Coates. (side note: that book was everything. Get hip)
my BLACKness. It is not a weapon or dangerous. It’s not something to be feared or feel threatened by. If you don’t understand us or understand what we been through as a people and a culture, I can see how it will be hard for you to swallow all the complexities that come with being BLACK in America. To clarify, we are not a community of people angry by what has happened in the past. We are a community of people angry by those who refuse to acknowledge the past and the present are still intertwined. Instead of being treated as humans we are seen as targets and something to fear for expressing ourselves and calling bullshit when we see it. For all those who failed to get the message let me break it down for you quite simply: My community, my BLACKness wants to be understood as a complex, intelligent, powerful, creative, and gifted community accepted by all. Nothing more, nothing less.
MY BLACKNESS. To those who still struggle with their own blackness, just know your blackness isn’t a right that needs a stamp of approval by those who ultimately disapprove. Our blackness isn’t dangerous; it’s in danger. Protect it, love it, share its story. Take ownership of it. Express it in ANY which way you choose. If someone tries to take it from you, stop them. If you lose it, search for it for however long necessary. Create and recreate it. Guard it and love it even harder than before when you find it again. Keep in mind it’s your blackness, your skin, your voice, your story, and your experiences. Don’t let anyone take that from you and never ever be afraid to show it. The more we speak about our blackness, the closer we get to closing the gap that those outside of our community seem to forget is actually exist.
Keepin’ It Sincere: I’m BLACK, get over it.