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The white Lie

The battle between good and evil is a story as old as time. This epic battle has captivated many of us since we were children. Stories filled with dark demons and the redeeming power of the “light” were commonplace. I’d never once pondered there could be a deeper meaning— a meaning that happens to be far more sinister than many can fathom.

The egregious illusion of white purity continues to be perpetuated by ghastly images of a blonde hair blue-eyed deeply European portrayal of Christ. Controversially speaking, white Jesus has been been the poster child of white supremacy for as long as I have been aware of my place in the world. Unapologetic Blackness is the ultimate antithesis and it shows. The deliberate attack on Blackness can be seen throughout history. It’s easy to spot the brazen attempts, but most Anti-Black assaults are subtle in nature. Disney movies, cartoons, and marketing ads all feature outdated juxtapositions.

Christianity has been the vehicle of choice used to further the white superiority complex and has aided the ever-growing racial divide. White-washed faux historical recounting has comfortably remained the backbone of America and many other parts of the world where colonization thrived. We must challenge damaging worldviews no matter how commonplace they appear.

When will Black stop being synonymous with all things evil? The light and dark juxtaposition where white is pure and black is filthy needs to be abolished today. It’s a poor attempt at covertly furthering the notion that white is the standard of all things good and holy.

I believe by continuing to challenge white supremacy, we can slowly disrupt and destroy the ideas and attitudes that were created to diminish our place in this country and the world alike.

Shameless

I sat my phone down at the corner of my desk. My fingers dribbled along the edge as I processed what had just occurred. My ears burned from the lamentations. To put it as frankly as I can, some people don’t understand how absurd they appear. Being a chronic victim is not a badge of honor. People who pretend to care to mask their wants are disingenuous. When did blaming others for the bed they’ve made make them noble? I’ve always prided myself on being able to avoid or limit contact with people like this, but there are times they slip through the cracks. Just because we love someone doesn’t mean we have to deal with their unsavory behavior.

Answering the phone blindly while deeply entrenched in my writing wasn’t something I should’ve done. I should’ve ended the call as quickly as it began. Hindsight is twenty-twenty. How do we deal with the people in our lives who never have anything good to say? How do we manage our relationships with people who treat others poorly by consistently taking more than they give, using others with reckless abandon, all while claiming to be the perpetual victim? They’re shameless.

I used to answer the phone when I should’ve blocked them. I’d let people talk when I should’ve interrupted them and ended the interaction. I don’t have time for drama and foolishness in my life. This was an important lesson that I had to learn. Now more than ever it’s important to enforce boundaries. Protecting our minds is of the utmost importance, which means we must be selective with the energy we allow into our lives. You can’t be concerned with how they’ll take it, especially if you’ve already shared how you’ve felt. Shameless folks don’t appear to have social awareness. I’m all for giving people a chance, but there comes a time when you’ve said everything that can be said. Accountability doesn’t always feel good. Making excuses for friends and family who continue to violate your boundaries has to come to an end.

Today, I ask you to consider your feelings. Are there people you’ve been continually extending grace to with no change in behavior? How you feel matters. It’s time to make your well-being a priority and it starts with defining your personal boundaries. Once they’re defined they will govern how you interact with the people in your life and will also help you determine what you will and will not accept from others. The truth is not easy to share, but it must be spoken. It’s okay to be selective in regards to the people you choose to have around you. This chapter of your life is about peace; it’s okay to make it about you for once.

Soliloquy of Peace

I’ve learned to prioritize peace in my life. For my own sake, I had to. Sure there are things that happen in life that justify perpetual anger and bitterness, but that would only destroy us. For instance, there was the time my mother’s house was ransacked shortly after she died. To this day I can remember my sister’s frantic call with vivid clarity. I rushed over to the house unsure of what I’d walk into. The adrenaline navigated me through the thick D.C. traffic with precision despite being unnerved. When I arrived the police were already on the scene. The officer looked around for a few minutes, took some notes, and left without a single ounce of compassion. That was it. I was stunned, angry, and confused.

How could this happen? She lived in that house for years. The neighbors were friendly on the surface, considerate, and often checked on her as she battled terminal cancer. People couldn’t possibly be that evil, could they? It was violating to see her belongings scattered amongst the scuffed wood floors and dirt. The big-screen TV she saved for years to be able to purchase was gone. Her medical papers lay amongst a heap of trash and debris. Humanity can be ugly. People can be vile. How can we keep our peace when there are so many things that seek to destroy it?

A few weeks ago I went to a family event and there was a family member there who tested positive for covid and knowingly spread it. This individual traveled hundreds of miles exhibiting symptoms and still decided to come without any regard for anyone else. People whom I dearly loved were infected and the person didn’t apologize or even acknowledge what had occurred. I was angry, to say the least. Even when pressed they casually blamed others and didn’t take any responsibility. This is what we have to work with sometimes. There’s often no restitution. These anti-peace bandits often appear to disappear behind the horizon unscathed. Cynical? Maybe. In spite of this, we have to press forward and protect our well-being. We do this by limiting contact with problematic people, removing ourselves from unfavorable circumstances, believing in better days, and holding ourselves and the people we love accountable.

We all have our challenges. As much as we’d love to be able to control every aspect of our environment, we can’t. This truth doesn’t have to rob us of our contentment. We can choose how we’ll respond to the things that happen and ultimately decide how we’ll move forward. This is our gift. We have the blessing of being able to view the glass as half-full. May we smile in the face of difficult times, press forward through our darkest days, and choose to believe we deserve the best this life has to offer. At the end of the day, everything works out for our good.

The Black American Experience: Rising From the Ashes of Pain

Where do we go from here? I’m angry and exasperated, but I remain firm in my reproach today. How long must we pretend this county is a sovereign nation of safety, power, and sanctification? A nation built on morality, Godliness, compassion, and love would not continually find itself at this bloody crossroad. America’s grandiose belief that it sits at the proverbial right hand of Almighty God is utterly laughable as it is sad. A reality check has been long overdue for those who believe racism is dead. As a Black man, I’ve always been acutely aware of the world I live in, in fact, you must if you want to survive as a Black person.

My grandmother would often worry about me when I left the house as a young man. At the time I didn’t understand her fears. “I’m just going to play basketball up at the school,” I’d say to reassure her. I could see the discomfort in her eyes as she struggled to let me grow up. My words hardly reassured her. She lived in a world void of social media. Her stories of pain, tragedy, and grief were passed down from one generation to another. She lived through her own trials and tribulations as a result of her Black skin. If she were alive today, she’d have much to say. Today, I understand her concerns as I watch the world around me reveal itself to be more barbaric by the day. Mass shootings should not be a normal part of American culture.

I’m tired of Black people being slaughtered like animals. The mass shooting that took place at Tops Friendly Market in Buffalo this weekend shouldn’t have happened, but it did. My heart goes out to all of the families that have lost loved ones. When I sat down to write this morning, my spirit was disturbed. I thought about Mother Emmanuel in Charleston, South Carolina. To this day I still have difficulty grasping how someone could walk into a church, killing 9 people, and be peacefully apprehended. The anger that filled my soul that day returned as I read articles that detailed the events from Buffalo. Is this what America continues to allow itself to become? Hateful ideas are incubated and supported by those in leadership. The media plays on fear and gives platforms to folks who divide and spread false narratives. The echo chamber couldn’t be more clear.

Do not be mistaken, Black people will not become footstools. We will protect our homes and our families. We will love ourselves and each other. We will not turn the other cheek and cower before those who wish to destroy our way of life. We will continue to fight for equality and justice. Black people across this nation are strong, beautiful, and overcomers. We are here today as a result of the strength that has been passed down from our ancestors who endured the treacherous journey across the Atlantic and suffered through over 400 years of slavery. America has no choice but to accept that we’re here to stay. We will continue to rise above the ashes. Our fallen brothers and sisters did not die in vain. We are Black and we are proud. We will continue to move forward whether they like it or not.

Blackness: A Beautiful Testimony

My mother’s southern drawl was always a sweet touch. I used to say things to rile her up so I could hear it come alive. “Boy, if you don’t stop playin’ with me,” she’d say with a laugh. Those were the days; I’ll always cherish them. My mother was a healthcare worker who worked long hours: sometimes as long as 13. When I’d come home from school I always phoned her, and often the voice at the other end of the line was unrecognizable at first listen. At the time I didn’t understand why she suppressed her natural tone. I used to think it was funny, but today I don’t find it amusing.

After having spent several long years in corporate America myself, I understand the struggle. The unspoken pressure to tame our natural tone, word choice, and inflection became increasingly unbearable as I continued to climb the proverbial career ladder. The work voice, as I call it, is just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to how many adjustments we’re expected to make to move forward within non-Black spaces. It’s rarely comfortable, and to be quite honest, is something we shouldn’t have to do.

There’s nothing wrong with being ourselves. I understand the need for professional decorum, but should we as a people continue to allow ourselves to be held to a Eurocentric standard? They’re telling us being Black by default is unsavory and needs to be tweaked. Our name, hair, voices, and demeanor are constantly critiqued, amongst other things that do not define us. Thriving in this world is a delicate tight rope walk between being ourselves and what others believe we should be. We must take the power back by continuing to create our own spaces and lanes so we may authentically be ourselves with no pressure to conform to standards we never agreed to.

Despite all of the progress we’ve made as a people, the anti-Black agenda is still strong in this nation. We understand this deeply as we experience the day-to-day challenges of living in a world that relishes the fruits of our struggle, but does not value our humanity.

I write this piece as a reminder of our great existence. Being Black is an honor although our journey through this earthly plane is filled with obstacles, valleys, and hills to climb. In the midst of it all, we’ve found a way to rise like a phoenix. We must always own our Blackness. There’s grace in our struggle. May we find rest in our strength. After everything we’ve been through, we’re still here growing stronger each day. Our existence is a beautiful testimony.

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