A sistah is weary…of the assumption that people of color possess unlimited quantities of understanding and forgiveness.
I’m weary of the never ending circle of over the top insult followed by defensiveness followed by frustration with folk for being offended by offensive shit followed by apologies for “if anyone was insulted” that contain dismissive language about “intent” followed by calls for dialogue that assume people of color possess unlimited quantities of understanding and forgiveness.
Pause…sip coffee…continue.
I’m not eager to explain or teach or rant or school or listen to explanations about what people were trying to do when what they actually did landed them on the list of bigoted assaults on my soul.
I’m not excited about the prospect of engaging in dialogues that so often end up with folk expecting people of color to grant absolution and then “let it go”.
I’m not inspired by public displays of prejudice, be they signs at rallies or inappropriate analogies or racist bake sales on college campuses or billboards calling upon black men to step up and dictate to sistahs ‘cause we obviously need to be led.
I’m tired of calls for inclusion from non-inclusive spaces populated by people who define inclusion as assimilation.
I’m weary…
…and I wish I had the talent to express just how much fucking work it takes to engage, over and over again, when my spirit screams in resistance and my soul calls out for self-protection.
Sigh.
Lawd, give me strength because I believe in social justice though I doubt, though I resent…
…even as I am weary.
"— Shark Fu, AngryBlackBitch (via jessicavalenti)
(via afrolez)
