I awoke this morning to check my Facebook page and was greeted by Laura who took issue with my blog post, Dear America: You Should Have Listened. Sincerely, A Black Woman.
I am not above people disliking my blog posts. I am simply a Black woman with a pen, a notepad, a computer and an opinion. Not everyone has to agree with my opinion and in fact, I write with the inherent belief that many people will not. So to wake up and see her comments on my Facebook page, was intriguing. I was confused because the title of my blog was very clear, yet still she read it and was so moved to leave a racist comment.
And then the hits just kept on coming. Laura at this point is clearly big mad.
I wanted to know who Becky Laura was and how our paths happened to intersect, so I viewed her Facebook page. She appeared to be a woman stuck in between two worlds. One, compassionate and understanding the other racist and xenophobic.
I understand the difficulty she finds herself in. It is hard to deny the truth. It is difficult for some to recognize genius, magnificence, Black in all its splendor. It is hard to set aside delusions you have about a people whose resilience and power are unstoppable. Every horror that could be done to Black people has been done and yet here we stand. Perhaps that is why Laura and many others are torn with their emotions and decide to drudge up the N word as if that is Kryptonite to Black people.
Indeed, Becky, today is the day that you have met your Storm, live and in color.
I understand the duality you must be facing. It is difficult to want to be racist yet still admire, cherish, covet, love, long for and benefit from so many things that are not of your race and culture.
You want to be racist but you love dancing to Single Ladies.
You want to be racist but you think Kevin Hart is hilarious.
You want to be racist but you love the full lips so many Black people possess.
You want to be racist but you want to tan to have darker skin.
You want to be racist but there is something that collard greens do for you that just doesn’t cut it with a wedge salad.
You want to be racist but you can’t help but notice how delectably fine Idris Elba is.
You want to be racist but you just can’t understand how to kinda hate Black people yet kinda love everything about them.
Newsflash, Becky, there is no Racist Lite. “Give me a side of a Black person that passes the brown bag test, hold the darkies and I will take a side of their inventions and culture to go.” Life does not work that way. Being kinda racist is like being kinda pregnant, you either are or you are not. Being racist is not something you can place in a box. Racism is like cancer, it invades your thoughts, your decisions, your very being.
Should you decide, Becky, that you would like to give up everything Black by all means, please do, and in doing so, revoke your privilege to peanut butter, the fold out bed, potato chips, riding on a train, shoes, the light bulb, blood transfusions, receiving your mail, the telephone, pacemakers, video games, cataract removal, any movie with 3-D special effects, super-soaker water guns, the refrigerator, birth control, the elevator, the microphone, the traffic signal, sugar, the cell phone, scooping ice cream, the dustpan, the squeeze mop, the clothes dryer, the ironing board, diamonds, paper, home security systems…The list of our contributions is endless.
We were here before time was time and we have minds that have changed the very course of your modern day existence, Becky. Thank you, would have been sufficient. However, you were right in your photo assessment.
We are superheroes. And every day we fight to bring the STORM!
Consider this the rain!