Identity

I am a woman. I am a black woman. I’m learning that even in my blackness, even in my woman-ness, I am a privileged black woman.

I guess I speak with more restriction. I may have learned what I was being taught. This language, the way it’s been taught to me, I speak it. Not mastery, but an understanding. I articulate. Oftentimes, I annunciate. Lessons, even small ones, resonate with me. I feel like I just, cannot be myself. Well of course, I could, but then I’d have to deal with people developing negative perceptions of me and unconsciously expressing it in lots of little micro-aggressive ways. I despise that in certain environments I have to pretend that I’m not a product of my environment. Not just the neighborhood I grew up in. Environment is continuous. What you have been exposed to, what you are presently exposed to, the things you eat, social location, music you listen to, places you go… the list is endless. So, as a woman raised in the hood, pursuing a much more stable life, obviously, I’m very diverse. But that doesn’t mean I should have to code switch. I should be able to speak how I feel comfortable speaking. Sometimes I might say “Yall gettin me tight” but I should have the freedom to say “you’re creating a toxic environment that’s making me uncomfortable.” Not that I’m entitled but I should feel accepted by the people who I have the most parallel experiences and societal vision with.

I just want to be better. Maybe I’ve been conditioned but I see a positive correlation between being calmer and being better. I don’t want to be angry anymore. Actually, I don’t want to express my anger in a hostile, confrontational, or combative way. Anymore. And so, I’m more restricted. Maybe, as I fight to master my inner peace, I lose some of the passion that makes me a black woman. Oh, but I am passionate. And despite the lack of expression on my face, despite the absence of elevation in my tone, despite my unaffected body language, I am an angry black woman.

I’m upset about how we are being treated but aside from that I’m upset with how I am being treated. I shouldn’t be insulted or assaulted for having a difference in opinion. I have no intention of victimizing myself. I’m expressing myself. When I defend myself it’s not because I think I’m an attorney. When I advocate for emotional expression it’s not because I think I’m a psychologist. Not wanting to fight doesn’t mean I’m scared. I just understand that life can be very difficult without me intensifying the struggle by being a negative experience for someone.

Of course, I’ll have my slip ups but that doesn’t mean that I’m a wolf in sheep’s clothes. Making mistakes doesn’t mean that I’m an overall terrible person that pretends to be innocent. I am growing every day. I am in no way a final project.

If I’m understanding it correctly, my slightly lighter shade lessens my experience in the black struggle, my struggle. Not much of course, just enough to be casually mentioned, consistently. I guess, if I could say without being politically incorrect, the house negro / field negro color rules still apply. I’d call it colorism but then I’d have other issues.

Perhaps, I have assimilated. Unconsciously. It’s possible that I’ve become so consumed with my own personal development that I can no longer relate to the fight of my people. It’s what I’m told. In different ways. Still I fight for my people. I fight for myself. I fight with my people and so I fight with myself. Baffling how much I have to fight with my people as I fight for them, beside them. I show up as me, the only me I know how to be. I speak the way I know how to speak. I am criticized with what are sometimes perceived as compliments. Don’t associate traits that are viewed positively as acting outside of the normalcy of what it means to be Black.

Education is a privilege. Is it so horrible that I want one? Not the privilege. The education. But I’ll take the privilege. I’ve been too far under for far too long. Is it so wrong if I learn things that challenge my way of thinking? Why is it wrong to grow? Why does my new perception mean I perceive others in a negative light? I don’t. If anything, I understand more. I understand my community more than I ever could have without a new perspective. The goal, for me, honestly, is to make it out of the hood. That’s not because I don’t want to live around my people nor because I think I’m better. I just don’t want to live in poverty. No one should have to but we currently live in a capitalist society. I will do everything I can to contribute to the dismantling of this system that forces us to compete with each other but while it stands, I don’t want to live in poverty. It’s killing me, as an individual, the same way it’s been killing us collectively all these lifetimes. I would never sellout but understand, I am a product of my environment. If there are changes in my reasoning, language, and presentation, it’s a result of the things I choose to expose myself to. That’s not necessarily a bad thing.

I like to look pretty. In a “not confirming to societies standard of beauty” kind of way. I’m not shallow, stuck up, or conceited. I’m confident and I should have that right. My confidence has nothing to do with anyone else. Me saying that I really love my hair today doesn’t mean I dislike anyone else’s. It’s important for me to speak positively to myself. While, I understand that I sometimes seem so sure of myself, but that’s not always the case. Please don’t tear me down. Sometimes it works.

I am a Black Woman.