Anything But

Some of the stuff that happens to me my friends only happens so that we may go out and share! I tell you!! About two or three weeks ago my girls and I were hanging out. It sounds so odd to call them girls when we’re all grown women. My girl Z started a new job back in April. She has gotten to know a few people there. Oh the stories she told.

White people, I want you to read this entry carefully. And then ask yourself if you’ve ever done anything like this. And if you have, please don’t do it again. We (As in most minorities, but not in the Al Sharpton ‘We should boycott Comedy Central’ kinda way.) do not like it.

The first story Z told was about herself. She’d been working on a project with a few other people and they’d been exchanging ideas via e-mail. Z sent an e-mail saying that she would rather discuss the issue offline. This put a halt to all discussions. Nobody said anything to her for the rest of the day. Next day rolls around and she was chatting with a co-worker. Let’s call him John. John’s a white guy around our age. Z asked John if her e-mail came off harsh and if now she was labeled an angry Black woman. Sweet mother of all things to cause general guffaw. This John guy responds, “You’re Black? I mean I knew you were West Indian but I didn’t know that meant you were Black…I mean I was thinking maybe Hispanic, but Black? No.” (All hell would have broke loose if she’d said she was Joo-ish!!! Cus if Blacks get offended by some stuff, the Joos get twice as offended.)

Toss that shyt around in your head for a minute. I wish I thought it appropriate to post a picture of Z, but Honest and O can testify that she doesn’t look like anything but a ‘yalla’ Jamaican. You should know John isn’t some guy who grew up in Middle America where the only Black person he saw was bouncing a ball on TV. His ass grew up in Bowie, MD! Prince George’s County, MD!! A predominately Black county.

Still with face full of guffaw, she eneded up talking to the director and making a joke about John not knowing she was Black. Well smack in the head because the director said he didn’t know either. Whozawhatsahuh??

Look, I’m not blaming them for not knowing–even though I think they’d be blind not to! But, they should have just shut up. They shouldn’t have told her they didn’t know. Learn she’s Black and shut the f*ck up. The problem, IMO, is that in this country, being Black is the lowest thing on the totem pole. And if you are intelligent, have lighter skin, white folks would rather label you as anything other than Black. Hell, even Hispanic!! But black? No because Black people can’t be smart, calm, professional, etc. Shoot, some even expect you to deny it!

For the first person who says, “I don’t think that way…” you’re probably the first person who does. I’ll give you a pass though because it’s partially not your fault. You don’t know any better. And that’s why I’m writing this.

Now on to the story that rocked the spot as she told it! Another of Z’s friends at work is white but married to a Black man–who she hates–and is seperated from. They have a small son. This woman, let’s call her Lucy, often calls her son ‘The Boy’. Because Z and her are cool, Z thought she’d ‘Black it forward’ (someone’s blog, circa 2005) and warn Lucy that people may get offended by she calls her son.

As the conversation went on, Lucy explained to Z that the whole race thing wouldn’t be an issue because once she re-married a white man, she would just teach ‘The Boy’ that the step-father was his dad. He wouldn’t even remember the Black father.

Now Z was intrigued. She asked Lucy what did she consider her son, Black or white, mixed, etc. With straight face, Lucy said, “White. I mean look at him.” Lord, lord.

Side Note: See, this is why, when it comes to my brothers marrying white women, the only thing I care about are the kids. White women have a history of being dumb to these things. Just because she and her Black man love each other, it doesn’t mean that their love will overcome their children’s Blackness. That’s right–their offspring is BLACK!! Not mixed, not bi-racial, but Black. And here’s why. In order to survive in AMERICA (I don’t know about everywhere else.) children need to be prepared. Otherwise, they will get their stupid-n*gga-wake-up call in high school, at the latest, when their best friend Becky/Tommy gets angry and calls them a nigger/nigglette or some other racial shyt.

My girl Z has seen ‘The Boy’ and swears he looks like a light Black kid. But his white mother has grand dreams of him ass passing. Da f*ck? Then ‘The Boy’ grows up thinking he’s white but when he has children they come out almost as dark as a paperbag! Then what? White women having BLACK kids, wake-the-hell-up. The most well adjusted ‘bi-racial’ adults I know are those raised with both parents teaching them they are Black but just happen to have a white mom/dad.

Another thing, stop thinking we’re cool enough to ask us what we’re mixed with. That shyt’s not cute. As a matter of fact, it can come across as downright offensive. “You’r pretty…Are you half______?” Da hell? Die!! I guess I could be considered an eighth white thanks to my half-white paternal grandmother. Oh wait, I forgot about my maternal could-pass-if-she-wanted-great-grandmother. Uh, I guess that makes me like what 1/6 white? WTF-ever! Does that make it any more likely that I be cute? Hell naw!! Matter of fact, on both sides of the family, that’s an ugly secret. The only reason my mom ever told me about both sides is because I questioned why I was much lighter than my parents and why I get freckles.

Bottom line, be mindful to not say dumb shyt. I’m not just talking about the whites either. Black folks, stop thinking every slanted eye is from the same place! Stop thinking ever short, dark-haired man speaks Spanish and is there to mow your lawn. I mean he probably is–Fox! But still, check before you pay him! By the by, if you’re wondering if something is dumb, just do’t say it.