Things Fall Apart-My Becoming Militant
Break out the bean pies, the Public Enemy CDs, afro pics, the dashikis, the "Final Call", and the black berets. I am going through a black militant phase.
OK not really, but Miriam posed a question over at Soila's blog about black militancy and what it is. Since I am not the spokesperson for the black folks, I will tell you my definition of black militancy and how I deal with it. See how it is always about me, hence the name Siditty.
My militant streak runs from frustration and anger often times than not. Today my frustration was that it appears race relations are not improving, not enough to impact IR relationships between WM/BW. White men for the most part are so concerned about their namesakes and inheritance staying white, that to date a black woman is still a risk, and it seems that it is an obligation for a white man to even consider dating a black woman, and to me I don't want to be an obligation, I don't want to know how risky you are, I want you to like me period, damn the family name and inheritance. It shows you how truly racist this country is. These guys will go safe and marry an ideal minority like "asian" so they can get their dark features, but not get shunned.
Not to mention learning that your stereotypical features of black women, big booty, big lips is seen as a positive for white or other races of women, but a negative for me as a black woman. My husband's step father used to threaten him when he was listening to that dangerous, evil hip hop that he was going to have to kiss some "big greasy n*gger lips". I was told my hair was ugly, my butt too big, and even to this day I hear white woman walk around saying how gross Beyonce or J Los butt is, and how could anyone want that, as it looks gross to have such a big ass. I even had a coworker less than six months ago explain to me how white men could never find a big booty attractive.
I read stories, where even when universities give up on race based admissions, there is still talk about "reverse racism" and discrimination. It is incomprehensible for a black student to do as well as a white student. Blacks get their jobs on race quotas alone, never merit, and there is no need for quotas because every thing is great in America. The ironic thing is that me and many of our friends had the same conversations with our parents. Getting a "B" or "C" wasn't going to cut it, you needed an "A". You can't just do the bare minimum and expect to keep a job. You have to be twice as smart and twice as hard working to be considered an equal to your white counterparts. I had this proven to me at school growing up every day. I experienced this at work as well. My parents never told me not to worry because they had quotas set aside for me at any job I wanted. They told me I had two strikes against me. I was black and a woman, so I had to be better than anyone and every one else or I would fail in this world.
When I start to think about things like this, how horrible race relations are, how slow progress is in IR when it comes to WM and BW (not so much BM and WW, they seem to have no problems). I get a bit angry and racist towards white people. It is like a big let down, yeah they are even more racist than I thought. I must really hate myself to even entertain the thought of being around or being married to a white person. White people overall see me as a liability, not as an advantage, heck asians and hispanics can get a free pass, but I am still seen as the undesirable.
When I get to this point, I sometimes think, maybe black people are better on their own. Maybe we should just stick together, we are too hated, and people think so lowly of us, no matter what the reality, we will always be the bottom of the barrel.
I went through a particular black militant phase and even questioned my marriage at one point a couple of years ago over a five minute conversation with my husband. We were in the car, and I don't even know how the topic of race came up, as believe it or not, we rarely if ever talk about race. Anyway we were discussing how there is a white power structure in this country that gives whites preferential treatment. He didn't believe it was all that bad, and that things have changed. I obviously felt different. I started shooting off my stats about discrepancy in the black and white middle class, working wages between whites and blacks with the same experience and education, housing woes, and how people still negatively view IR. He responded in talking about being the majority, and that if blacks were the majority, they would enslave and institute Jim Crow just like white people. I went silent. I didn't talk to him for exactly 4 weeks aside from "hello", "good bye", "i'm going to be late tonight" or something of similar ilk. In the meantime I broke out my copy of "The Mis-education of a Negro" and "The N*gger Bible" and read them from beginning to end over and over, and in my mind I was referring to my own husband as the "Alabaster Man", and feeling that he could never ever truly relate to me or show empathy for me as a black woman. What he had said had hurt me so much, made me so angry, my only solace and way to keep from beating him down was to stay quiet and stay distant.
I will also admit after watching "Roots" I do this on occasion as well. I will just go into my "white people are the devil" phase and think long and hard about myself, and reflect on myself to ensure I am not a self hating wanna be house negro.
This is my racist rambling. This is what goes through my mind when I am angry and frustrated with race relations. This is my way of dealing with the hurt of reality.