There are times when my experience as a Black American can seem pretty ubiquitous. Obvious even. When your coworkers ask you to teach them how to swag surf. When your doctor says “You’re not mixed? But you’re so pretty to be just Black…” Or when someone uses pseudo-science and an international platform to call you, your mother,and your best friend ugly. Or when you realize that no matter how high you rise through the ranks of society, if you’re Black someone can still demand to see your papers.
- When doing a google image search for something to stick on the blog.
- When searching for film monologues that don’t include gems from Meagan Good
- When searching for “nude” heels
- When reading a book, and having all characters introduced as simply people and a Black character introduced along with a stunning review of her beautiful, wise, stoic, angry, magical skin
- When I can’t swim.
- When watching Ellen (my bestie and yours) talk about accidentally sitting on a wet toilet seat … wait who puts their booty on a public toilets?!
- When I look like a jerk in bright red lipstick
- When I desperately need a tan, and all my coworkers throw shade at me for saying it aloud
- When I hate this video for gaining popularity on the strength of culture-appropriation alone (I’m a minority among minorities here, I know)