Black is ugly. White is beautiful.
Like it or not, that’s what has been told to us in subtle, and at times in not-so subtle ways. (See Photo Above)
For some of us, it takes a long time to understand that the statements above are not necessarily true. And by “not necessarily”, I mean, not at ALL.
Every time it begins to get hot outside, I start to remember what it was like for me as a child, trying to avoid the Sun at all costs. In the Summer, that is a hard thing to do when you’re locked out the house from sunrise to sundown on most days. I was trying to remain as “light” as possible, because the ridicule at school for dark skin was HELL. That posed a bit of a problem since I’m already dark-skinned as it is. It was a struggle.
Back to school.
“Where did you go this Summer? The Sun? Damn you’re black as Hell now!” This is the type of stuff I would have to hear upon returning back to school from summer break. Couple that with TV images only having fairer-skinned Blacks as symbols of beauty and goodness, and you should see where I’m coming from here. You’d want to stay as light as possible too. I’m not alone.
Over time I grew out of giving a shit about how people perceived my tone. What comes with lots of melanin is the ability to adapt to most situations. I already know going in, what a lot of people think comes with “The Darkness”. It’s on me to prove to those who think this way, that what they see on TV or in a Newport cigarette ad, ain’t exactly what they’ll get from me… or sometimes they might.
A lot of people don’t know or even care what it’s like for us. Imagine always being thought of as an over-sexed, criminally insane, lazy, unintelligent sack of shit… just based on my skin tone. It sucks, but I wouldn’t trade it in for anything now. I’m stronger because of it.
Because I’m stronger now, I laugh when I see all the banter on social media that gets into the shade struggle. I see plenty “light-skinnedid” people talking about how we darker-skinned Blacks are apes, and shit. It’s hilarious to me now. Just search “dark skin” on Twitter after you read this. You’ll see I’m not lying. Maybe you’ll laugh too. Go check out #Shades on the homeboby Lee Crowe’s page to get more of what I’m telling you here.
I’m not whining at all here. I’m just telling you that we know the game. People complain about the race card always being played, but when was the last time a nigga was the dealer? I play what I’m dealt, and this isn’t just a Black vs. White issue. Watch Spike Lee’s “School Daze”. LISTEN to somebody who goes through it once in a while. Ain’t shit changed since we got off the boat.
Well, let me stop lying.
There is ONE group of people who have ALWAYS embraced “The Darkness”, and to them, I am grateful…
But that’s another blog altogether ain’t it? Stay tuned.
You remember the time when your mama cut the crust off your bologna sandwich? Yeah. Me neither.
I was born in December 1975. Things were different back then. Everybody didn’t have cable TV, cell phones, iPads, or bottled water. Yes. Bottled water.
Can anybody tell me when it became necessary for Americans to only consume bottled water? Nothing pisses me off more than when one of my kids tells me, “Hey, Daddy, we’re out of water.” The fuck you mean “out of water”?! Do they mean the water bill hasn’t been paid? I suck with money, but I know I paid the bill. They better them run a glass out the tap!
They mean they want me to go to the store and purchase water that ran out somebody else’s tap. What kind of shit is that? I’ll tell you what kind. The kind that makes me enable my kids to be the same kind of punk-ass bitches, as the rest of America’s youth. Them niggas on the Sally Struthers ads drink water with gnats, elephant pee, and gorilla stank in it, and they’re just fine, aren’t they? (Not Really)
Ok. Sally’s kids aren’t ok, but if the tables were turned, and our kids traded places with them, which do you think would do better under the circumstances? They live lives full of struggle over there, but it builds character. Our kids’ versions of “struggle” are an XBox controller not having batteries, “I lost my iPod charger!”, or “I don’t have anything to wear for school!” These kids need to shut the fuck up!
If you’re my age or older, you have been through some struggle. You’ve fallen off a bike, hit your head, and been told to just, “Lay your ass down and take a nap!” We didn’t need helmets. Being concussed just made us more careful. These kids ain’t eem scared to fall. We had to deal with chicken pox. If your case was anything like mine, you thought you were near death. We NEEDED that shit. It made us stronger. Vaccinations lead to Pussification.
You’ve been hit in the mouth with a ball going 50mph playing dodgeball. You played “Smear the Queer”. You drank 89 degree water out a HOSE in the summer, while locked out the house all day. Teachers could beat the brakes off our asses at school. You’re still here, huh? We lived.
I can go on forever about how we had it, but I won’t because you already know.
I’m no different than any other parent. In a perfect world, I want to shield my children from as much pain as I possibly can, but it ain’t healthy in the long run. I believe pain is essential to real growth as a person. At 16, I found out another nigga was smashing my girlfriend to the mixtape I had made for her. It put a keloid on my heart the size of Rick Ross’ stomach. I lived, whore.
I’m just warning America right now. Stop buying bottled water. Stop buying crustless bread, and PB&J already mixed up. Stop passing kids who can’t even read. Whip their asses. Tell them they suck, when they suck. It helps.
Everybody always talks abou how China and the Middle East are such threats to our freedom. Look closer, America. The people from below the border have kids who don’t live like ours do. They’ve successfully implanted PLENTY of them up here. In 20 years, they’re gonna take this shit back, and who are we to call on to stop them? The kids we’re raising? HELL NAW. Them Mexicans will be up here slappin’ FIRE from these kids, and they won’t be able to do anything about it because of us. Brush-up on your Espanol.
Next thing you know, even Canadians will be down here whoopin’ our asses. And nothing can be more embarrassing than getting that ass whooped by one of them.
You have been warned.