From time to time I engage in conversations about race, in particular, the Black American race. And one consistent, unfailing observation I have encountered among Black Women is that we are mentally stuck. We are stuck with the feeling of helplessness in dealing critically and constructively with racism, be it real or perceived. We are stuck with the plight of Black American men. We are stuck with the inability to clearly identify our personal world views, and how we view the world is filtered by our unchecked, unchallenged biases and beliefs.
Over and over we repeat the same rehearsed narrative about how the American Black man is under attacked, and the white man the system of “white supremacy” keeps a brotha down. Yet and still, who is coming to your rescue you if you are unmarried, children out of wedlock, struggling to make ends meet, frustrated with absentee fathers, cold and calculating mothers, living in an environment that welcomes toxicity like a warm blanket; and the list of the cruelties you experience is countless. Yet, you be damned if you do not mention the black man’s plight.
You take up a social justice cause without sound logic or reasoning, jump on the bandwagon to champion a cause you don’t fully understand, BUT because the skin is black, you feel justified in raising up the victim-hood of someone else while failing to look at yourself and all of the struggles you endure.
I find myself disappointed.
You see ladies, this is one of the many reasons why there is no momentum in finding resolution. In moving forward. In shedding the old and putting on the new. We love to play the victim. We are helpless and constantly looking for a savior. We are truly unable to determine resolution because….quite frankly, we aren’t looking for one.
For as long as you determine in your heart to continue a life relegated to pity and shame, be sure your that your success will never be realized, your dreams denied, and your life destined to a damnable shame.
Decide if you will choose life or death. I will choose life.