"He Was No Angel": There is No Such Thing as Black Innocence

There is absolutely no regard for Black life. I say that without further qualification.

I continue to be astounded by the way Mike Brown's death has been disrespected. He is continually victim blamed for his own death despite the overwhelming amount of evidence (both testimonial and biological in the form of an autopsy) proving that he was executed by a Ferguson PD cop.

And yet, people continue to suggest that the true victim is the murderer. The continual narrative is that Mike Brown somehow deserved to be executed.

When They Say: "If She Does X is She a Ho?"

Not too long ago I was talking about what I've come to call "modesty culture" (a topic I wrote about extensively in my "On Rihanna Teaching Me to Say No to Modesty Culture" piece). As I said in that piece, clothing choices are only one aspect of patriarchal control of women's bodies. Sexuality is a major component. I see this in no more succinct terms than when somebody asks: "If she does X is she a ho?"

The Allure of Pharrell's "New Black" But Why It's Dangerous

Recently, recording artist Pharrell Williams claimed that he is a "new black." He defines "New Black" as somebody who "doesn't blame other races for our issues. The "new black" dreams and realizes that it's not a pigmentation; it's a mentality. And it's either going to work for you, or it's going to work against you. And you've got to pick the side you're gonna be on."

We've got to pick the side we want to be on! We can either have a victim complex or we can be a "New Black" and usher ourselves into the post-racial world waiting at our fingertips! In either case it's our choice whether or not we're going to be oppressed on account of being Black.

FYI, I Cannot "Demand" Respect From Men so Stop Telling Me That!

Many girls are told from a very young age that it is their job to demand respect from men. Although the logic behind this is hardly ever teased out (mostly because it becomes illogical once you really think about it) this is the message we get.

Most girls are relentlessly told that we will be treated how we demand to be treated. If we want respect, we must respect ourselves.

The Lupita Nyong'o Experience: Thoughts on Learning How to Love Black Womanhood

I am enjoying the post-Oscar glow that so many Black girls and women have right now after watching Lupita Nyong'o receive her well-deserved award for Best Supporting Actress! She looked beautiful. She gave a moving and emotionally impacting speech. She was radiant. I couldn't have asked for anything more!

Nothing can take the shine away. Not the racists who are "hiding" under a very, very thin veneer of stanning for Jennifer Lawrence. Not the so-called pro-Black people who chide Lupita enthusiasts for supporting the racist Oscars (and they're right about The Oscars being racist, but I'm still happy for Lupita and for myself! Representation matters!)

But what does bother me is the respectability politics. There is something so infuriatingly poisonous about how some Black folks have chosen to speak about Lupita Nyong'o. I knew it was only a matter of time until Lupita Nyong'o would be pitted against other Black women as an angel while everyone else is a demon.

Here we go again!

Stopping Jezebel: Some Thoughts on the Complexities of Black Women Owning their Sexuality

I was thirteen and a freshman in high school when I got my first boyfriend. I didn't know anything about dating or relationships. It wasn't "serious" although I thought it was at the time. He would walk me to class. I'd watch him perform. We'd sit in the hallway giggling and holding hands. I even shared my first kiss with him.


Then we broke up. And one of the ways he used to get back at me was calling me a ho and a slut.

Later, I distinctly remember being taken aside by an older Black woman. She explained to me that I was called a slut because that's what men do when they're angry. And I could have avoided it if I had never been alone with him in the first place because once you do anything with a man he will expect you to have sex with him and if you don't he will begrudge you for it.

That's because boys will be boys. And it's because you are a (Black) girl.

That was my introduction to the politics surrounding the Jezebel image.

The Good Black Girl Complex

I remember the first time I was praised for being a virgin. It was in comparison to another Black girl. The boy in question said I was actual "girlfriend material" because of my virginity. He didn't mention any other characteristics. Just that. And he compared me to another girl who didn't have that quality.

Even "pre-Black feminist" me knew there was something wrong. But I didn't have the sociological or feminist jargon to explain what was wrong to myself. And besides, like most people I enjoy attention that seems to be in my favor. I might guiltily enjoy it if it's at the expense of others but I'd be lying if I said that "pre-Black feminist" me found what the boy said insulting.

This moment was poignant. I remember the confusion of being praised for something that I had never considered to be important or consequential. I remember feeling happy that he liked me but disappointed that he compared me to somebody else. It seemed like less of a compliment.

Women learn from girlhood to take arbitrary characteristics, that don't in fact mean anything substantial or make them a better person, and believe that these things make them "good." There's so many messages floating around about how to be a "good" Black girl. And the fact that many of these messages are contradictory doesn't stop many Black girls from trying to fulfill them.

Black Women & The Continuing Problem of Respectability

The myth of hyper-sexuality is a stereotype Black women have been forced to bear for centuries. It originates from slavery and is still thoroughly woven into our cultural imagination. It controls how Black women's bodies are viewed. It minimizes our sense of personal choice. It takes sexual subjectivity away from Black women.

Scholar Evelyn Brooks Higginbotham coined the term "politics of respectability" in her landmark text Righteous Discontent. In this text, she outlines how nineteenth century Black Baptist women countered the notion of hyper-sexuality by supporting a strict form of sexuality: a more perfected and stringent version of the rules of sexuality in which white women were expected to follow in their hetero-patriarchal society. They believed that this would allow them to escape some of the vitriol of being labeled immoral and impure.

Of course, respectability politics makes a fallacious assumption in believing that Black people are maligned because of an inability to strictly conform to white middle class norms. Most white people do not even conform to white middle class norms. Black folks are degraded because of race. Every other reason is simply an excuse or a way of masking the true nature of anti-Blackness.

I Am Whole, Not Perfect: Reflections on Black Girl Perfectionism

Like a classic perfectionist I told myself that perfectionism assisted me. It gave me the edge needed to survive and thrive in spaces where I was doubted due to my race, class, and gender. It made me feel more resilient against charges of inferiority because I could prove that I was intelligent, hard working, and therefore deserving.

Of course, the great lie of perfectionism is similar to the lie of respectability politics. There is nothing you can do to ensure that you are universally respected. This is particularly true if you possess identities which are marginalized and oppressed.

For me perfectionism became an unhealthy coping mechanism for my feelings of self-doubt and low self esteem no doubt provoked by the constant onslaught of racist and sexist microaggressions. I began to commodify myself by believing that I would always be sure to have value as long as I was producing, making things, winning awards, and busy in a quantifiable manner.

Black women tend to celebrate their perfectionism as if it's a benefit instead of a dangerous character flaw that can potentially lead to anxiety and depression. In fact, my perfectionism made me feel like an authentic Black woman for a long time since I was parroting the behavior of the Black women around me.

I'm Natural... But I'm Not a Naturalista

I think naturalistas are great. They are the people who go above and beyond to make sure their natural hair is always on point. And bless them for it but I can't claim the label. I am just a regular 4C Black girl who has natural hair.

Is there any room in the natural hair movement for 4C girls like me?