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Why Iím Absolutely an Angry Black Woman

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  • Why Iím Absolutely an Angry Black Woman

    • Because when I was five, my kindergarten classmate told me I couldnít be the princess in the game we were playing because black girls couldnít be princesses. Because I was in third grade the first time a teacher seemed shocked at how ďwell-spokenĒ I was. Because in fourth grade I was told my crush didnít like black girls.

    Because in sixth grade a different crush told me I was pretty  ó  for a black girl. Because in 7th grade my predominantly black suburban neighborhood was nicknamed ďSpring GhettosĒ instead of calling it its name (Spring Meadows). Because I was in 8th grade the first time I was called an Oreo and told that I ďwasnít really blackĒ like it was a compliment.

    Because in 9th grade when I switched schools a boy told me he knew I had to be mixed with something to be so pretty. Because in 10th grade my group of friends and I were called into an office and asked if we were a gang, or if we had father figures. Because in 11th grade my AP English teacher told me that I didnít write like a college-bound student (though I later scored perfectly on the exam).

    Because when I volunteered in Costa Rica that summer, I was whistled at and called Negrita. Because when I asked my host father if that was like being called nigger, he said, no, it was a compliment because black women are perceived to be very good in bed. Because I was a kid.

    Because I watched from the bleachers while the school resource officer didnít let my brother into a football game after mistaking him for another black boy who was banned. Because the school resource officer maced him for insisting he was wrong. Because I was suspended for telling the school resource officer he didnít deserve respect. Because my senior year boyfriend said nigger.

    Because I was one of two black girls in the freshman class at my college. Because at meetings to talk about how to attract more black students, someone suggested that the school attracted a certain demographic (sustainable living, farming, general hippiness) and that maybe black people ďjust werenít interested in things like that.Ē Because my college boyfriend called me a ďfiery negressĒ as a joke when he ordered for me at a restaurant. Because the boyfriend after that cut me off for saying he was privileged. Because I canít return to my hometown without getting pulled over.

    Because when I got married people assumed I was pregnant. Because people who know Iím married call my husband my ďbaby daddy.Ē Because my pregnancy with my son was plagued with videos of black lives being taken in cold blood. Because their murderers still walk the streets.

    Because the nation sent me a message that my sonís life didnít matter. Because when Tamir Rice was murdered I curled up on the bed and sobbed, cupping my belly. Because my son heard me sobbing from the inside. Because they donít care about us. Because when I was 7 months pregnant my neighbor asked me to help him move a dresser up a flight of stairs.

    Because I am not seen as a woman. Because I am not allowed to be fragile. Because the nurse that checked me in at the hospital to deliver wouldnít look my husband in the eye. Because the vast majority of people wonít look my husband in the eye. Because when the doctors put my son in my arms and I saw that he was as dark as his father, I knew life would be even harder for him.

    Because he will be regarded the same way I was. Because he will be forced to grow up before he is grown. Because strangers at the store think itís okay to reach into my sonís stroller and touch him without a word to me. Because we arenít entitled to boundaries. Because they think we are here for their enjoyment. Because people donít think we are people.

    Because my nephew told me he couldnít be Spider Man like he wants to because Spider Man is white. Because when he was four he said that he wants to be white so that he can go on a boat like the people on TV. Because I couldnít save him from that. Because I canít protect my son. Because I canít protect myself.

    Because my stomach sinks whenever I see a police car. Because when my husband leaves the house at night I am afraid heíll be killed for looking like somebody. Because I worry that if I went missing like the 64,000 other black women in this nation, the authorities wouldnít try hard to find me. Because I am disposable. Because I am hated. Because we keep dying. Because they justify our deaths. Because no one is held accountable. Because I am gas lighted.

    Because I have been told that by speaking about being oppressed I am victimizing myself. Because our murders are filmed and still pardoned. Because I donít know what it means to let loose. Because doing the things that my white peers do with ease could cost me my life  ó trespassing in abandoned buildings, smoking joints, wearing a hoodie, looking an officer in the eye, playing music loudly, existing. Because I am afraid to relax. Because I am traumatized.

    Because there isnít a place in the world white supremacy hasnít touched.

    Because I am trapped here. Because the playing field isnít leveled. Because I my skin. Because I being a woman. Because not hating myself is considered radical. Because Iíve been called racist for defending myself. Because all the major protests are for cis black men. Because Iíve been told that talking about the women whoíve died is taking away from the real issue.

    Because I get no break from fighting. Because everything is a struggle. Because my anger isnít validated. Because they donít care about my pain. Because they donít believe in my pain. Because they forgive themselves without atoning. Because Iím not free. Because the awareness of it permeates everything. Because itís not ending. Because they teach the children that itís already ended. Because someone will assert their supremacy over me today. Because theyíll do it tomorrow.

    Because I want more. Because I deserve better.

    By Dominique Matti
    Photo by Femi Matti

  • #2
    very powerful........


    • #3
      Originally posted by AYAN View Post
      Because there isnít a place in the world white supremacy hasnít touched.
      That's the impression you get until you realize the one place the matrix can't touch.

      Don't be angry by these ignorant people. Draw energy from it, empower yourself.

      Amazing what a thought(s) can do.