A collage of tweets from President Donald Trump, research, and personal reflections on Blackness and independence during the pandemic
Black lives must matter before Black education can matter. My degrees won’t shield me from bullets if a cop feels threatened by my existence. They won’t have my back when a creep follows me around the block because my clothes were “asking for it.” My degrees are neither freedom papers nor get-out-of-jail-free cards. They are an acknowledgement of my survival from an institution that was not built for me.
Je ne veux pas que vous prouviez que vous « n’êtes pas raciste ». Je veux que vous sachiez que vous êtes le produit d’un régime raciste efficace qui a capitalisé sur l’oppression et la suppression noire durant des siècles. Je veux que vous réalisiez qu’être raciste est plus Américain que la tarte aux pommes.
No quiero que comprueben que “no son racistas”. Quiero que sepan que son el subproducto del régimen próspero racista que se ha aprovechado de la opresión y la supresión hacia la gente negra. Quiero que se den cuenta que el ser racista es más americano que el pie de manzana.
I don’t want you to feel at ease. I want you to know that you are the byproduct of a successful racist regime that has capitalized off of Black oppression and suppression for centuries. I want you to shed light on the corners of your subconscious you’ve glossed over for years. I want you to realize that being racist is more American than apple pie.
It’s hard to talk about systems of oppression that we benefit from. Light skinned tears don’t belong in the conversation of colorism because you can’t benefit from and be a victim of the same form of oppression.
If a picture is worth a thousand words, than a video essay is worth about a million.
Happy Independence Day (if you celebrate any sort of liberation today). I posted this essay (originally titled “On Humans”) on July 4, 2018. I’ve updated “Humans” to reflect statistical updates, new events, and my contemporary reflections. When I first wrote this, I hoped that we had already seen the worst. A year has passed, and … Continue reading Humans
The other day I was writing in a coffee shop, and a man in a red flannel commented on a sticker on my laptop. “‘Careful or you will end up in my novel?’” I was mid-sentence and caught off-guard. “Ah, yeah.. I’m a writer” And then the normal conversation follows: Where do you go to … Continue reading On Humans