Personship

Photo by ANGELA WEISS/AFP VIA GETTY IMAGES

The thing about writing for me is it has to be organic, pure. I find that my best most expressive thoughts come straight from the heart without a lot of fanfare or early posit and production. That is when I feel my most raw and real.

That is why I have been waiting to write this post.

Okay. Not necessarily waiting but not pressuring myself to put my words down on “paper” for a while. I wanted to make sure I had time to sit with my feelings and process for minute.

This sucks. This all fucking sucks. The world outside our front doors sucks and if you live in a household that has not or refuses to see the significance of the situation going on in the streets then it probably sucks inside for you too.

The thought of the thousands of Black bodies in the streets and in their homes and on the internet fighting for their personhood fucking sucks and I don’t know if I will ever get over it. Even worse the fact that all of us are having to explain and fight and serve and teach and reason with people as to why our bodies are valuable is insane. It’s nonsensical and flat out and out confusing. What do you fail to see?

How is this confusing? How are we not making sense? How are you this obtuse?

Growing up I was the only one at my school and in my neighborhood for a very long time. But trips to visit my family were always a multicultural affair – all types of people are related to me. My parents also made a very pointed effort to make sure my Black body was around a number of Black bodies every night and weekend because of the activities they put me in. I was inundated with Blackness. I was taught Black history and I recognized and realized that my Blackness was beautiful at an early age.

As I grew I was less and less alone in school and other places important for growth but I was still bombarded with people who knowingly or unknowingly demanded I prove my self-worth while glamorizing what they liked about my culture and heritage. It was annoying and hurtful but most of all degrading because a lot of the times even the “friends” who “loved me” didn’t realize who much of our acquaintanceship was built on a caricature of who they thought me to be.

Now as an adult I watch my younger siblings have to fight with their “friends” about what is and isn’t true about people with our skin color. I watch them fret about how to help the movement and I wonder when We will get to take a break. When will people admit they are wrong and begin the process to truly learn and not demand facts and figures for facts and figures sake.

I for one am tired. I realized the jig (pun intended or not your decision) was up a while ago and stopped keeping people around me who have the propensity for this kind of violence spoken or acted upon.

I don’t know. This is mostly a mind dump. I will definitely come back and write out a more structured piece. I just need to go to sleep and accidentally found myself down a social media blackhole right before I went to bed. The moral of the story for now is the following: Protect your mind, body, and soul from folks who don’t consider you whole and fight back the best way you know how.

Know that I am here for you and so are your other Black brothers and sisters. And if you are an Ally ASK folks how you can best be an Ally to them because not everyone has had as much patience and practice as I have in that kind of relationship. We are all in this together let us fight this good fight for freedom until we can fight no more.