Organized Chaos.
"love without restrictions- trust without fear."
“I’m Black.”
Recently I’ve been heavily burdened with the fact that my celebration of self, seems to be a problem for some. I’m Black. I’m sure you’re saying, “Duh,” but I think I need to make that clear for all of my friends who claim not to see color. I’m also a college graduate in the prime of my career. I’ve fallen into very few stereotypes that plague our society, and for that, I thank my mother and our God.
I love black culture. I don’t mean what the media says is black culture i.e., broken homes, poverty, and violence; I mean ALL Black culture.
I love to talk about Hip-Hop and R&B. I get giddy when my friends are okay with me listening to Miles Davis and Dizzy Gillespie. When I was 16, I named my first car Billie, after Billie Holiday. When I was 21, I named my car Lena, after Lena Horne. At 22 I fostered two small boys and had them memorize poetry from the Harlem Renaissance, and we recited it to each other before school. They loved Claude McKay; I think it was because he talked about women more often than not, lol.
My hair is a part of my identity, and I find freedom in expressing my love of being Black in ways such as style. In the past few months, I think people have taken offense to this. Please understand that my love for my culture and race does not equate a hate for any other. I know people say this all the time, but I don’t mind saying it again. The fact that some of my associates reply with, “We are all God’s children, and in being so, we are one..” is evidence of their lack of understanding.
Let’s be clear. I live to serve King Jesus. Everything that I am and everything that I pursue or desire is a direct reflection of my attempt to glorify Him. In the event they don’t I was probably a moron. I am not confident in much, but I am confident in the fact that God created us with these innate differences for a reason. Similar to my attitude being different from my brother’s and my fears being different from my sister’s, I am NOT called to walk in uniformity with everyone around me; especially not if it’s to appease what makes you uncomfortable. Christians, in order for the body to effectively go out and serve in God’s name, we CAN’T all be the same.
I went to a seminar this past weekend, and one of the headliners, Propaganda, used an amazing metaphor to describe what white supremacy looks like…
“So a few boys are playing basketball, right? A young white male who was also playing, stops and says, “all I’m hearing is nigga this, nigga that, nigga, nigga,nigga, nigga.” And I’m like, hold up homie, that’s one too may niggas, lol. and he’s like, “I just wanna know why I can’t say the word. What’s the problem with me saying the word? & I’m like why do you have to be included in something that is clearly what has become a part of some, not all, Black culture?”
Prop goes on to explain how sad it is that we all feel the need to be a part of everything. We have to feel a sense of belonging in order to be validated by the people around us. To that I say, you don’t. Create your own. Experiment with self, and build what others may not deem necessary into a necessity.
There is freedom in the search for self-expression, and I truly believe we all need it.When I walk into my classroom and tell a couple of my Queens, “Your black is beautiful” that shouldn’t make my white observer uncomfortable, it should affirm that I am encouraging my students that in spite of what someone may have told you, all that is you, is a kind of beauty worthy of admiration.
I’m not sure where I’m going with this anymore. All I know is, if you’re annoyed with how often and eagerly I express my love for myself, maybe you should evaluate why.
I love you.
Organized Chaos. 