I’m Black All Year!

I am BLACK all year long! If that statement offends you I am NOT sorry at all! 

Me being black isn’t a trending topic, it isn’t a topic to speak of only during the month of February with a MLK, JR. quote to follow. Fortunately my black isn’t a viral dance on Tik Tok dance neither is it to duplicated. 

My black isn’t selecting me to be the token person to speak on your Diversity & Inclusion panel so that your next client will see that your company or team is woke enough not to be cancelled. If you haven’t figured it out by now ya’ girl is unapologetically Pro-BLACK! For those who may be unclear of what this means, I love being black and all of my blackness. No dislike of those who aren’t black.

There has never been a moment in my life when I have ever wanted to be anything other than black. Even in the moments when history has shown and proven we have always been hated, killed, given the shortest end of the stick for simply showing up and being black. Even when we have been given the backside of so many to kiss. When we are always misunderstood, working three to four times harder than the average white man and woman. Even when we are held to a higher standard while other can show up as doing barely enough. Mediocrity being the standard for others while it is never an option for us. Not one time have I ever wished that mashed potatoes and string bean casserole was apart of my Thanksgiving dinner. I have always loved the creativity of my black friends and family.  The love, the care, the resilience of the black mamas that lived on my block growing up. I have always admired the black fathers who had a way of loving us sternly and providing us young black girls and black boys on my block the strength of their presence. 

Over the years I have watched how white folks and everyone else who isn’t black be fascinated and intrigued with black culture. With many attempts in to make black culture their own yet never loving the black people they stole from. A few years back I remember being at lunch one day seeing let’s call her Sarah, adorned in her Nike tech jogging suit with her long acrylic nails with a high ponytail with a sad attempt of edges. I let my mind wander in perplexity of what I was seeing, never uttering a word to the friend I was at lunch with. Knowing the start of that conversation would lead to explaining a lesson I was not interested in teaching. 

It has been beyond odd and baffling to me that so many social media influencers and celebrities who steal, imitate the movements, ways, speak black women in particular while simultaneously becoming millionaires. This would be consider an idea we call plagiarism, right? Growing up I don’t remember having the luxury to be the loud little black girl whom many want to be now.  There was always the reminder to tone down my laugh, make sure my style fit into the career journey I was on. I was told to make sure I didn’t show too much of my blackness. I was reminded to live but don’t live as loud or as black with my long nails, my style or my AAVE.  Now years later AAVE, my style, long nails, the list goes on is the very thing I was told to tone down is the things that white people are getting reposted, content shared and praised for doing.

It is said that imitation is the highest form of flattery but I aint flattered at all. I am disappointed and downright upset with what I see every time I turn my head. Someone else is killing us, threatening us, Karenin’ and Kevinin us everywhere we go. It’s exhausting to see, live through and think about. Instead of focusing on how we aren’t loved, how we are mistreated I choose to remind people my blackness can’t be borrowed or imitated today or ever. Being black is the most unique, beautiful, amazing, life changing thing to encounter. There would be nothing and I repeat NOTHING without Black creativity, music, style, inventions, this country, NOTHING! I would NEVER want to be nothing else other than Black.

So if you come across someone who is gatekeeping or not giving out invitations to the BBQ it’s because being black isn’t seasonal or the latest style. Being black doesn’t happen only on Mondays in February on Black History Month. Being is what happens all year long, 24/7 365. 

I’m Black All Year!