All Lives Matter? Cool, Prove It!

Mutt, mongrel, half-breed, nigger, gator-bait, wench, buck, slave, black bitch. Why do you talk like a white girl? Why do you act like a white boy? Why are you so ghetto? Can I touch your hair? You’re such an Oreo...

I’m guilty. I’ve been judged, tried, and convicted for the worst crime possible...being a black woman in America. When I was 9, I moved to a predominately white area, I didn’t notice it until I stepped into my third grade class and saw all the white faces staring back at me. Looking back at that year, I recall things that my friends and I would do in school or in daycare and I noticed that whenever we did something bad, I was the only one in trouble. As an unforeseen result, I closed up completely in middle school, until I met my first bully. It was my best friend’s boyfriend. I already didn’t like him because his personality was way too abrasive, but then I hated him when he opened his mouth. Words like, “nigger and black bitch” were always saved just for me. The first time, I snapped and I hit him. Not my finest moment, my parents were surprised but they understood why I lost myself like that.

I thought it was only students that pick on kids, but I had a science teacher once in seventh grade. I had a friend in that class, a bi-racial young lady I was very close with. Now, we sat across the room from each other, and there were two white young ladies that sat right next to each other in the front of the classroom near the teacher. They would always “whisper” to each other back and forth, when I say “whisper” I mean the kind of whisper you can hear from the back of the room. The teacher never said anything to them, my friend and I would mouth words at each other across the room, immediately we get called out for being slackers and not paying attention. Granted, I shouldn’t have been talking in class, but I just found that interesting, but nothing to trip over. I did trip in high school though. My middle school bully was there, and lo and behold, he didn’t even remember me. He dated my best friend and tormented me, and he couldn’t even remember me...the icing on the cake was this, when the school made us watch anti-bullying videos, he was in every single one telling people that bullying was wrong. I couldn’t believe that, I laughed at everyone because I couldn’t take it seriously watching him knowing the pain he put me through in middle school. Oh, but high school was no picnic either. It happened my sophomore year, that was when I realized that people really do make life decisions based on skin color.

My best friend was a white male, we were very close. I told him everything and he told me everything. I developed a crush on him; I learned why people call it a crush, that’s for sure. He told me that he could never see himself dating a black girl, and that he definitely couldn’t see himself dating me because we were too close. I chose not to focus on the “black” part because I was hurt enough getting friendzoned for something I could control so I wasn’t even going to think about the aspect I couldn’t. Imagine my surprise when he started dating a girl he had known for years, who the week prior, he had said they were like siblings...I was completely floored. It didn’t stop there though, he ended up dating my best friend, a blond blue-eyed girl. To say I was devastated in an understatement; my sophomore year was the year I developed a defense mechanism that I still use to this day. I have a very sharp tongue and an ice wall around my heart. Put simply: I don’t let people in like I used to. As a matter of fact, I can count on one hand the number of people I have let in, and two of them are not blood relatives. But you know, blood is a funny thing. I’m sure you’ve heard “blood is thicker than water.” The actual phrase is, “the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb.”Meaning, people you choose to let in will have a stronger bond with you than those you may share blood with. I’ve found that to be true on more than one occasion.

I have two cousins that I adore more than I could properly describe. I didn’t know a nine year old could actually hurt my feelings. Laugh if you want, but when this little girl that I held as a baby and fawned over, looked at me and asked me, in all seriousness, “Why do you talk like a white girl?” I looked at her face and bit my tongue. I heard brakes screech in my head and my thought process slowed. I couldn’t believe it, I couldn’t tell you what I said back I was so shocked. But when her and her brother, when those two 9-year-old kids went up to my dad, their favorite uncle, and asked him “Why do you let your daughter hang out with white kids?” I’ll be honest, my palm was twitching a bit, and not because of them, but because I wanted to slap their parents. I couldn’t believe that was the crap they were learning at home. The ice wall around my heart got thicker that day, I was 16.

By senior year, I learned that words were weapons and I learned how to use mine. I had four “show friends” and three real friends. “Show friends,”  were the ones I hung out with at school, at one point I thought they were real but slowly over the year, they gave me the freeze, which was fine I learned who my real friends were. The first incident that disgusted me that year was my ex-friend from my sophomore year, the one I mentioned previously, he had a newly formed opinion about me. I found out that he had thought about what would've happened if he had decided to date me, his main reason was this: my body was “fuckable.” His words. This is what I got from that, “You don't really want to date me, but you wanna have sex with me. Do I look like a bed wench to you?” In that moment though, I realized that is how a lot of men see black women. I’ve had guys start conversations with “I’ve never been with a black woman before.” And? Like what response do they expect? What am I to say to that? I just can't believe the things people say or the things people think is acceptable!

The second thing to happen had me in such a rage...in a word, I was volatile. There was a bi-racial boy at my school, a year below me, he always rubbed me the wrong way. That boy had a mouth on him; I hope he learns how to filter his words because if not his mouth is gonna write a check his ass can't cash. He told a another black female student that he could name off a list of women who had bigger butts than black women. The first thing wrong, is that he shouldn't even be making comments about her body, let alone have the audacity to compare her to others. The situation got worse when a white student decided to bandwagon and proceed to name of girls. The bi-racial boy then made a joke about how dark she was. She cried in the bathroom...

Cruelty exists in a number of ways. Racism exists in a number of ways. Prejudice exists in a number of ways. We live in a world where young black boys are shot in the streets like dogs by those who are supposed to protect us from injustice. We live in a world where young black girls are violently yanked out of their seats and dragged to the floor for being on a cellphone in class. We live in a world where little black children are shot for waving around toy guns in the park. We live in a world where my bi-racial nephews are called niggers before they hit the age of ten. We live in the world where it’s a crime to be different. Society may be evolving, but for those of us still faced with racial injustice everyday of our lives, we still live in a world where a 14-year-old black boy was lynched for whistling at a white woman. Tell me, what kind of world is that?

“#BlackLivesMatter.” I’ve been hearing about this movement a lot the past year and I expect to hear more in the coming year. The controversy over this movement is so interesting to me. Whenever I talk to someone who supports the movement, there’s always someone who counters by saying all lives matter. My response to “all lives matter” is this: that was never up for debate. There is nothing in that phrase that is left to interpretation, all lives do matter. But when the people who are supposed to protect our lives start ending them...it appears that to some, all lives do not matter and a lot of the time those are black lives being taken. Black lives matter exists because we are being treated as if we do not matter. People can shout that all lives matter, but when the media, the courts, the judges, and the cops, act like this is irrelevant, then yes, society needs a reminder.

Racism is a toxin in our society and it is slowly but surely killing us. And the saddest part is that it’s happening in our own community! We need to squash that. How can we expect others to do something that we ourselves don't even do. Be the change you want to come forth. The first step is taking; the time for silence is well and done. Speak up! In 2016, I will be 19, by the time my daughter is 19 I don't want this to be an issue. Let’s all try and make that happen.