Stop Blaming R. Kelly For Shit You Already Know R. Kelly Do.
By Ida Harris
So R’rr Kelly, running a short-eyes concubine, is problematic to niggas—again? Is it Bigly problematic or petitely problematic? I’m curious.
Buzzfeed’s reported story on Rrr’s pedophilia romps is hella disturbing.
It sketches a transaction, of sorts, between a set of parents and the crooner—that is: a booming music career in exchange for a young daughter’s pussy. Let’s be clear. They are star-struck, and knew full well the risk and harm that could occur with their child’s talent trusted in Rrr’s care. They are familiar with the Aaliyah tryst. They know about the underage sex-tape scandal. They—like many decent, well intentioned Black folks—still "Step in the Name of Love," at family reunions, bop their heads at the "Backyard Party," and contribute to sold out "Buffet Tours." Deep down in the recesses of their dark twisted psyche, they too may believe "Age Ain’t Nothing But A Number," and "...getting down ain’t nothing but a thang."
It pisses me off to the highest of pisstivity, that these parents (and others) attempt to shadow their own complicity, and even more so, when they discuss Rrr’s sexual deviance so abstractly to suggest it is something theoretic and not praxis. In a statement, they claim:
“In the back of our minds, we were thinking [my daughter] could be around him if I was with her,” J. said. “It didn’t really hit home. Even with the Aaliyah situation, now that I think about it, ‘Age Ain’t Nothing But a Number’ ... but you don’t think about that. You grew up with the song, and you like the song.”
These parents gloss over their own participation. Much like Rrr, they are part of the problem. They perform as unassuming co-defendants of the accused pedophile. Perhaps they don’t understand what sexual predation actually looks like. Perhaps they ain’t clear. Let’s all get clear—real clear:
- That type of allegiance and trust given the pied piper, and pedophiles at-large, is tantamount to allowing a suspect family friend to coddle a young daughter in his seat and bounce her toddler butt cheeks all over his khaki concealed grown man dick. That’s a Disney level lap-dance.
- It is running to the store and leaving lil' Kiara in big brother Leroy’s care, wherein, he rubs her pre-pubescent cooch with his calloused palms and runs his tongue across her budding titties. I promise you won’t see that scene in Moana.
- It’s equivalent to walking in on uncle Leo, thrusting his naked hips between fifteen year-old Cheyenne’s cocked legs, then quietly back-stepping out the room, and never telling nobody but God.
- It's babysitting the seventeen year old neighbor's three year-old son by the forty year old landlord, while she takes GED classes every Tuesday and Thursday.
- It’s drunk ass auntie Cheryl, putting her lips on nephew JoJo’s dick. It’s auntie finger-poppin’ lil’ niecey after downing a whole gallon of Taylor Port.
- It’s having a fourteen year-old daughter say ole cousin Bop has been putting his mouth on her pussy since age five and being accused of lying—when everybody know damn well he did the same thing to aunt Cheryl and cousin Tina, at the same damn age. Not to mention everybody know why aunt Tracy sniffs dope.
I could go on....and on...for paragraph after paragraph, but hopefully I’ve made the point.
Perhaps when we call ourselves, calling out high profiled sex predators, we should be as vigilant in calling out grandma’s oldest illegitimate son and Mr. Snow who runs illegal numbers out the corner store. They ain’t shit. One is a family blemish. The other been fetching young twat for decades. Perhaps when we describe sexual pedophilia, we nix all the euphemisms and lay that shit out. Sometimes language jades the perception. Pedophilia is some foul shit and should be spoken as such. Perhaps when we seek accountability from this grown ass pussy-monger, we hold ourselves accountable as well, for aiding and abetting, for being quiet, for turning a blind eye to those in close proximity. ‘Cause at the end of the day, if we gonna normalize pedophilia in our own spaces, then we must admit, that we too, ain’t shit—much like these Atlanta parents who co-signed their daughters concubinage.
If we stop letting heathens get away with fucking our babies, then maybe we can stop blaming them for doing so
Justification ain’t justice at all.