Just The Good Ole Boys

I couldn’t even do a FEAR Feature today… I mean, I did. But now I have to push it out of the way for more current events and shat with the nation. I hate doing this. Hate, hate, hate it. I hate being Black and having to talk about these issues. STILL! I hate having to turn the other cheek. I hate that my intention of this blog/site was to reach out to someone – anyone – in hopes of saving a life. Talking about suicide. Depression. Things I know affected me in my youth.


Instead, I’m addressing shat like this. AGAIN! I’m so tired, and I don’t understand why we can’t get pass it. And I’m still hopeful I can tell my children we live in a country that USED TO harp on racism, and that classism doesn’t have a color. That their African features are nothing to be ashamed of. But, no. My seven-year-old still wants the White Barbie when we go to the toy store because she thinks the Black one is ugly. She still has her peers calling her a farmer because her lips are slightly bigger than theirs or her front teeth are gapped. I’m still having conversations with her about why her skin is darker than the other girls in her class (or even mine, for that matter) and why that’s OK. And why her dad is darker and has a bigger nose. And that’s OK, too. I am RELIVING MY CHILDHOOD AND I CAN’T ESCAPE IT!

And I want to know why. Why, when my daughter is sitting at her grandmother’s house after school, waiting for her parents to pick her up and take her home, she’s watching the news and sees this:

And this:

…and wants to know why mean people are saying such mean things about Bullock Notonna. DAMMIT!

The mayor who made the comments will resign. I know this. But it’s too late. You’ve already put it out in the atmosphere. You’ve already removed your hood.

As a Black person, I should have known this was coming. We are making strides as Americans to make things better. I will not pretend I don’t see this. But for everyone who works hard to make us better, and strive toward equality, there will always be hate. There will always be those who see difference as a threat. Getting President Obama into office was a great and memorable feat. But it was a feat. A fight. Not a rite of passage. Not a walk in the park. Not a shoe-in or the end result of hanging chads and family members with connections. It was a struggle. An uphill climb. And IT ALWAYS IS. Here, the day before the end of Black History Month, we have wake up calls all around us that we are climbing, but we have so much more to go. And I can’t pretend I don’t see that either.

The country is still filled with good ole boys. Not these kind:


But these kind:


It will be a miracle if anyone makes it out alive from all this – the President OR the American people.