Friday, January 07, 2011

Cranky Black Lady is Cranky,

Okay my darlings.

I have to admit the last few weeks people, White people and mostly White women have said some fucked up shit to me in meatspace.

I will tell you right now, if you are offended by any of this you may want to take a second and think about if you do this to people and why said people (including me) might take offense.

For reference in case you're a new reader. I am a 33 year old Black woman. There is nothing ethnically ambiguous about me. I am chocolatey brown, I am clearly an adult. I have a very set routine five days a week. These things I'm talking about today have come from people who see me basically every day in the context of passing by each other and nodding.

Okay.

So there are a few things I know I have issues with on a personal level including the fact that I look quite young.-

Okay hold up a minute.

I was just talking to my best friend about how I've been feeling lately in regards to my interactions with White people and I had an epiphany.

Over the last say six to eight months I have more often worn a headwrap of some sort. Always plain black either a long one that wraps around my bun on the back of my head or a more kerchief style one.

I put together that roughly, weeks when I've felt like this and had bad interactions with white people, it has been when I've worn a head scarf.

More often than not if I'm not wearing a headscarf I don't get messed with. People don't say inappropriate things to me, I'm fine.

Oh. Shit.

Shit you mother fuckers. First of all, my head wrap is not a hijab, it's not a shayla, it is not an al-amira. And you fucking bigoted pieces of shit.

My immediate thought right now is anger. Anger at the bullshit anger at being stared at and feared not because I did anything to be fearful of but because I'm wearing a head scarf.

Fuck you.

Fuck you running.

Fuck the lady who clutched her purse away from me when I said excuse me as I was trying to walk around her to get to my bus.

Fuck the lady who decided to try and get me to 'Whip my Hair' and was butthurt I was appalled.

Fuck every single mother fucker who even thinks about touching my hair without my permission.

Fuck ever single mother fucker who has told me how well spoken I am or that after talking to me on the phone they wouldn't have guessed I am Black.

Fuck you for being so unable to control yourself that you say whatever the most "black" thing you can think of to me.

Fuck. You.

I am not exotic, I'm not some nameless enemy, I'm not a terrorist, I'm not going to snatch your kid off the bus (to the people who freak out if their baby smiles or waves at me, yes it has happened) I'm not some potential criminal.

Every one of you precious enlightened and oh so liberal Seattleites need to work it the fuck out. And do so away from me.

In case you need some pointers.

You do not get to comment on how I don't dress like "them".
You do not get to lay the burden of your comfort and inability to face your own bias at my feet.
You do not get to pat me on the back like I'm your fucking kid because I'm reading what appears to be a serious book.
You do not get to tell me how "my people" are ever so prone to the diabeetus and high blood pressure that I shouldn't be putting half and half in my coffee or using real sugar.
You do not get to pat yourself on the back for being decent to me.
You do not get to be condescending to me because you think I don't have any money.
You do not get to be ever so amazed that I have read a play or that I know how to do things.

Fuck you.

No really fuck you and your post racial bullshit. Shove it up your ass sideways.

When I say that I feel like something that has been said to me or done in my vicinity is racist, you don't get to tell me I'm being over sensitive. You don't get to tell me that you voted for Obama and expect me to congratulate you on your new found friendly relations with negroes.

I'm done.

I don't want to be kind or understanding about these things anymore because I am too old and too tired to take the tiny hurts and microagressions. Do I let a lot of shit go? Yes I do.

I take it without raging when someone looks at me on the bus as if I just shit in the seat and sits as far as they can away from me and when a seat next to a white person opens up they jump to take it.

I can take it when I am cruised by the police in the neighborhood I've worked in for a decade just after I've almost been run down by cars running red lights.

I can take it when I get the side eye while buying witchy or pagan things.

I can take it when people ask me pointedly if I listen to a certain radio station or ask pointedly what I think of X rapper doing X thing.

I can take a lot. I have taken a lot.

However there is a point where all I can do is say you know what, fuck you.

Fuck you I'm not explaining, I'm not being nice and I'm not putting up with your bullshit.

Fuck.

You.

Is this directed to all White people?

No.

Those of you guilty of these behaviors know and yeah I mean you.

Ugh.

What an awful thing to be thinking about and I'm done.

But know this, I might not yell at you in the street but I know what you're doing and that fuck off look in my eye, yeah. Fuck. Off.

Homo Out.
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1 comment:

Gabriel said...

it was a sunday -- very early in the morning -- and i was on the train. sitting around me were:

- a black lady dressed for church, sitting rather primly

- a black man wearing nice clothes, whose body language made him look like someone with a good job

- a bored guy whose ethnicity i wasn't sure of, but he was brown-skinned, wearing basketball shorts and a shirt i don't recall

- an exhausted latino guy wearing a t-shirt and jeans.

a clutch of tourists got on the train at 42nd. a white family -- mother and father, two or three children. they were wearing the tourist uniform of khaki shorts, white t-shirts, very clean sneakers, and fanny packs. white kids try to sit down, white mom drags them back over to her. there is so much room to sit on the train. me and the guys and the lady were the only people on one half of the train.

white dad checks his belongings, feels for wallet, and his camera, as if people pickpocket via telekenesis. white mom looks visibly scared. white kids are very, "why can't we sit down, GOD." white mom keeps glancing at the bench with the guys and sidling farther away from it. parents stumble when the train jerks because they're not even holding the poles.

black guy dressed nicely looks at them and then presses his lips together.

guy in the shorts glances at them scathingly.

i am quietly furious.

they RUN (literally, RUN) out of the train when they get to their stop.

shorts guy and nice clothes guy and i all look annoyed.

regular new yorkers get on the train and sit by all of us.

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