The most disrespected person in America is the Black woman. The most unprotected person in America is the Black woman. The most neglected person in America is the Black woman. The most policed person in the World is the Black young girl.
Young Black girls all over the world are often policed by strangers, neighbors, church members, teachers, and their own families. Black girls are policed on how to do their hair, what to wear, and their weight. We are never given the option to exist freely. There is always a system in place to remind us to be “humble”. We have to be humbled by those for being confident and lacking the confidence that they wish they had.
For as long as I can remember there was always an adult, whether it was in church or at school, that felt the need to humble me. This wasn’t discipline, this was attacking my confidence and reminding me that no matter where I wanted to find joy, I always had to shrink myself to be welcomed.
Read MoreBut liberal racists look nothing like that these days. They smile at you with big, bright, and seemingly accepting eyes. They wear the same hoop earrings, Frenchbraids, and Obama bumper sticker as you do. They call you presumptively endearing names like bro or sis when feeling a little spicy... They say please and thank you in docile tones...afraid of rustling feathers. They come into your communities as “well doers'', “missionaries “and “fixers”. They look at you uneasy and adjust themselves when you enter a space that they thought was safe and was away from you.
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As living alone during the pandemic continues, reading has become almost impossible because my mind is filled with so much noise--years of buried trauma, guilt, and shame working its way upward.
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I remember hearing this while listening to a podcast called, “The Secret Lives of Black Women” and they interviewed a high spirited, fun-loving, eclectic, and passionate singer by the name of Tarriana “Tank” Ball. She discussed how surrounding herself with people who spoke life into her craft, believed in her, and supported her was fundamental in life and her career as an artist.
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Are there places (outside of Africa) where black women are respected and seen as beautiful?
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“Mommy, why can’t my hair be down and straight like yours?” With a sad face, those were the piercing words that one of my three-year-old twin daughters asked me, as her sister gazed at me for an honest reply.
Read MoreDo you have a friend that’s always acting like a “white girl?” She’s the one that shows up at mimosa Sunday wearing cowboy boots instead of stilettos.
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A memory that haunts me at night, is from my middle school days in English. I was in eighth grade and at this time of my life my hair was done by my mom and my attire was a school board mandated uniform. On this particular day, we were watching a movie in English. My teacher did the spill about how this movie tied into our lesson. An interesting fact about this class is that my English teachers gave us assigned seats. So, sometimes I was lucky enough to be sat by my friends or assigned by someone she thought I would not talk to. After she gave us the spill, she went to the back of the room to turn out the lights. A boy in my class turned to another boy and said, “where did Brooklyn go?” This was a joke that was used often in school.
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"Pretty, for a dark-skinned girl." No, pretty period!
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Mental health is such a hush-hush conversation in the black community that when you do try to talk about it, it’s like you said a bad word. I can see it now, you come in from school with a grimace on your face and the first thing mama says is “girl, you better straighten up that face before you come in here! What’s wrong with you?” When you try to explain that you had a bad day, the response was often, “Ain’t nothing wrong with you. What you got to worry ‘bout, you’re just a child?”
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