Are you thinking about dressing up like an “Native American Princess” for Halloween this year? Or wearing blackface to be a “Zulu Warrior”? (I wish I was kidding) Or what about dressing like a “Mexican Mariachi player” or wearing a kimono to dress like a sexy “geisha”? Please don’t. These are not costumes. They are cultures and identities.
That woman your husband will cheat on you with. That woman who will be all over you because you have white skin and/or deep pockets. The easy lay.
Any black person can be the next hashtag on twitter, and the next name added along side of Oscar Grant, Trayvon Martin, Michael Brown, Sandra Bland and all of the other black lives that were cut short.
I don’t know Trump personally, but I do know firsthand the damage caused by a controlling, misogynistic, manipulative, racist gaslighter.
There seems to be this mass assumption that The Black Lives Matter movement is about demeaning the work of police officers, when really, it has absolutely nothing to do with any particular occupation at all.
It’s a privilege to only get your feelings hurt after being called a racist, rather than experiencing racism itself.
“It’s the least I can do. Keep the conversation going.” – Megan Rapinoe
Growing up a black woman has taught me a lot about the world.
It is convenient to avoid hurting feelings.
Is that what you mean when you say,
“Let’s go back
to the good ol’ days.”?
‘Cause those good ol’ days
may have been good
but they weren’t so fuckin’ hot
for anybody else