Black History Month Thoughts

In the first edition of this season’s Black History Month posts, I bring you my unfiltered thoughts about black culture and black history month. This may be a weekly series until the end of February, but honestly, who knows. Ya’ll know I can rarely stick to shit on this blog. Just enjoy it while you can I guess.

In elementary school, I had to set aside a day where my friends could touch my hair. I had this big ass fro that everyone always wanted to touch, but it annoyed the shit out of me when people just grabbed my hair, so we set aside one day a week where people were allowed to play with my curls. I was 8. Early onset racism????? JK I’m not calling my 8 year old friend’s racist, but these are the kind of situations that happen when kids aren’t surrounded by diversity. I was the only black kid in my class, and probably the only black kid in the entire school aside from my siblings. My hair was different, it was cool, it was ~curly~. Not really sure where I’m going with this, but if you were friends with my in 2nd grade, I’m not calling you racist, I promise.

Because I’m black I feel like I am allowed to say the n word, but my white half doesn’t like saying it, and my white half is actually 64% of me, so my white half wins so I don’t use the N word. HOWEVER. When Freaky Friday by Lil Dicky comes on, that doesn’t count. I’ll scream that shit from the rooftops because I’m always the only black person listening to that song. Also, fuck Chris Brown.

Black people always smell really clean and fresh. I think it’s the immense amounts of cocoa butter lotion they’re always using. Or the alternative is that racism makes you smelly therefore POC will always smell good. THANK YOU.

Black people are HILARIOUS. Like the funniest white person isn’t even half as funny as your average black person. There’s some psychological reasoning behind it due to our decades, nay, CENTURIES, or oppression, but I won’t get into that now. Just know black people are fucking hilarious and it’s dumb that black movies don’t do well because that shit BOPS.

I’ve had two panic attacks in my life. Both were about racist things. Don’t really have anything else to say on that point.

I feel like every #BHM I learn about a brand new black person who did something amazing that we all assumed a white dude did and it’s my favorite part of the month.

I love how black people refer to black men as “brother” and black women as “sister” but I didn’t grow up doing that so I feel like I can’t start doing that now? I think people would get very confused by the number of siblings I have.

I always feel a kinship with other black people around in mostly white spaces. It’s like “hey dude, I’m here if anyone starts getting rowdy, I got you’re back.” I like to think all the other black people around are thinking the same thing about me. I mostly bring this up because I’m sitting at the airport and I sat near the only other black woman at the gate, and a two more black men came and sat near us. Everyone else is very much white. We have our own little club in case shit hits the fan. I would die for these strangers.

Well that’s it for now, hopefully we’ll be doing more of these in the future!

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