Mammy, martyr, mule, Whore
Do a split on a dick
Fall on a sword
Bite my tongue
Swallow blood
Swallow semen
By force
By friendship
Kinship
By duty
Habit
Hope
I believed I could heal you
Help you heal wholly
Holy
My skin as your bandages
Because I believe your wounds
But my bruises and blood
Are lies
Earned
I suppose I do deserve
To carry water for you while I die of thirst
I do your share and mine
While you criticize, shame and deflect
Your protection comes with conditions that can never be met
Can’t build kingdoms on the shifting sand of your delusion
Headwraps to hide my migraines
My pain
My anger
All valid I own my disgust
distrust
I’m done carrying your water
Being your mule

Fiyah Angelou

Why Does Everything Have to Do With Race?

There are interesting, usually unasked, questions that are unintentionally answered in the course of discussion. I’m always fascinated by the views others provide you when they engage people. Those views always prove useful in future interactions/discussions. 

 

To paraphrase George Orwell, white people have prejudices about people of color because American culture has normalized whiteness, but the fact that people of color act “differently” further entrenches the “obvious correctness” of a white cultural norm.

Why is it normal to eat with a fork instead of chopsticks?

Why is it normal for a man to wear a suit to a business meeting instead of a loose, colorfully printed robe?

Why is it normal to sit in a chair instead of on the floor?

Why is a woman in a long gown and a bonnet accepted — archaic, perhaps, but accepted? Why is a nun wearing a black gown and habit accepted? Why is a woman in a burka and hijab somehow threatening?

Why do we teach the way we do? Write our laws the way we do? In short, why is our society the way it is?

 

 

“When a white person says ‘It’s not about race,’ they are pretty much always saying it when a Black person, or a Latino person, or a Muslim person is not acting the way a white European would act or wants them to act.”

(John Metta)

Why Hasn’t Disney Gone Bankrupt?

Remember that time I got really angry about the portrayal of the Polynesian god Maui in the sure to be shit film ‘Moana’?

 

Well, it looks like Disney is doubling down on the bullshit. They made a Maui costume, complete with a stereotypical grass skirt and blackface, for children to wear this Halloween. Retails for $49. You can be racist for free.  

 

If you feel the need to buy this for anyone, please hand your children over to CPS and sterilize yourself. 

 

Why Do Fans Always Focus On The Wrong Aspects Of A Player’s Personal Life?

Odell Beckham Jr. is not gay.

 

Or maybe he is.

 

Which brings me to two points: Black men are still archaic when it comes to anything remotely outside the male-centered construction of masculinity, and we really need to grow up.

 

In the staunch and limited definition of black maleness as defined by most black men, there are only two categories in which men’s behaviors live: straight and gay. You’re either one or the other, and there is little room for debate.

 

Undefined sexuality doesn’t live in the barbershop conversation of black masculinity. So because Beckham’s antics, his shirtless dancing and hot tub shenanigans can’t be identified on the straight scale, he must be gay. Don’t believe me? His friend and former Louisiana State University teammate Kavahra Holmes, who danced with Beckham in one of his viral online posts, had to speak about his sexuality because the internet just wouldn’t chill.

 

“It’s crazy how we been brothers for so long and if anybody really knows us know anywhere we go they see us being clowns and dancing but of course it’s made as ‘we gay,’” Holmes wrote on Instagram.

 

“Strictly brotherhood and just cuz we dancing having fun don’t make us gay.. I dance with our [sic] without him and vice versa so the ‘gay’ comments really funny .. We laughing … But we gone keep dancing lol,” he continued.

 

When black men delve into their insecurities because of questions they have of their own sexuality, they unwittingly uphold the toxicity of white supremacy. They are reducing themselves to sex objects incapable of operating outside a tiny box of hetreonormativity, where feelings are for pussies, heckling other men is an acceptable display of maturity, coming to blows over a disagreement is par for the course, and date rape isn’t a crime. 

Backpacks

When black boys are born
We mothers kiss their faces
Twirl our fingers in their curls
Put them in carriers on our chest
Show them to the world
Our tiny black princes

And when they start school
As early as 3
We mothers
Place huge back packs on their backs
And we slowly fill them with bricks
Etched with tools
Tattooed with truths
Hoping to save them

Don’t talk back
Don’t get angry
Say yes ma’am
Say no sir
Don’t fight
Even if they hit you first
Especially if they are white
Do your best
Better than best
Be still
Worker hardest
BRICK

they get a little older
And we add more

Keep your hands out of your pockets
Don’t look them in the eye
Don’t challenge
Don’t put your manhood before your life
Just get home safe
Don’t walk alone
Don’t walk with too many boys
Don’t walk towards police
Don’t walk away from police
Don’t buy candy or ice tea
Don’t put your hood up
I’ll drive you
I’ll pick you up
You can’t be free
Don’t go wandering
Come home to me
BRICK

They get a little older
And we add more

Understand you are a threat
Standing still
Breathing
Your degrees are not a shield
Your job is not a shield
Your salary makes you a target
Your car makes you a target
Your nice house in a nice neighborhood
Makes you a target
Don’t put your ego before your safety
Don’t talk back
Don’t look them in the eye
Get home to your wife
Your son
BRICK

They weigh them down.
This knowing
Of having to carry the load
Of their blackness

the world hasn’t changed
The straps just dig deeper into their skin
Their backs ache
But their souls don’t break
Our beautiful black men

When you say to me
All lives matter
I simply ask
Will your son die with the world on his back
Mine will

Leslé Honoré