Black Tax
Black Tax: The extra work that black Americans have to perform to even begin to be considered “equal” in talent and skill to a white American. Almost every black person has heard this lesson from their parents. I remember my father reciting it to me almost daily on the way to school. It’s so ingrained in black culture that it was part of a dialogue between Olivia and Papa Pope on Scandal. It’s also the title of Marcus Mabry’s biography of former Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice. For many white folks, it was the first time they’d heard the warning “you have to work twice as hard to be half as good.”
Often times, the “black tax” also refers to economic consequences, wherein we routinely see black Americans pay more than their white counterparts for the. exact. same. products. and services. And let’s not forget redlining, the practice of denying loans and mortgages to black Americans in certain neighborhoods and areas of town.
I want to talk about something different. I wanna talk about the tax that black Americans are forced to pay every.single.day. simply because we wake up. The other part of the black tax is emotional, it’s psychological, it’s fear to do the ordinary, it’s death.
The black tax requires us to do the following:
- to defend ourselves against racist stereotypes.
- to prove that a racist stereotype is correct.
- To express our anger and grief in a “town hall” after a racial incident occurs on campus. Shows like this seem to suggest that our feelings aren’t justified until you see us cry, and shake…until we break.
- We are called upon to educate you on your ignorance.
I will never forget the day that I sat discussing my ACT test scores at lunch with a table of “friends,” only to be told that my scores were “average” and then hear a friend utter the words “affirmative action” and chuckle to himself. I then attempted to defend both my scores, which actually measure social class, not educational aptitude, and affirmative action. After 20 minutes of sharing all the of experiences and slights that I have suffered as a black man, the same person asked “where do you get your stats from?” An amazing person, who herself understood my frustration in this moment said, “Thomas, we have a meeting.” I left the table and didn’t look back.
- First, why should I have to educate you on this information? I shouldn’t have to pour my heart out and literally write you an autobiography, while also searching for the data to “back up” my life experiences. Bitch look at my skin, that’s the only data I need. I live and breathe being black. In America today, it could also kill me.
- Second, if you honestly care about the issues at hand, then do exactly what you do for every other question you have: GOOGLE IT. heck, use Bing. Honestly, just use your commonsense. The answers to your questions exist, if haven’t found them, then you must understand that it’s because of your want to dismiss reality and the privileges that you have been afforded through the color of your skin.
Finally, the black tax requires us to sit with our families and lament over the newest execution of a black man at the hands of police(TW: You will actually see police kill a man.)
It’s an amazing thing when you think about it. When a man walks into a school and kills 30 kids or into a nightclub and murders 50, no one has an answer for what we can do. However; when a black man is shot in the streets by a cop, suddenly errbody’s an expert on the law, and race theory, and on psychology too. Hell, we can even read the minds of people that we see on a video. Suddenly we’re fucking gods and some sort of third person omniscient powers. “Don’t run”, they say, “and you won’t get shot.” “Don’t talk back,” they say, “and you won’t get shot.” “Don’t sell cigarettes,” they say, “and you won’t get choked to death.” “Don’t play in the park,” they say, “and you won’t get shot.” “Don’t ask for help”, they say, “and you won’t get shot.” “Don’t shop in the store,” they say, “and you won’t get shot.” “Don’t get out of your stalled car,” they say, “and you won’t get shot.”
Don’t sell CDs, they say, and you won’t get shot.
Follow those links and tell me that those suggestions worked out.
Soon, I fear, they will say don’t be black and you won’t get shot. Don’t be you and you won’t get shot. Don’t try to live a life worthy of saying that you are part of God’s creation and you won’t get shot.
Don’t work twice as hard to be half as good. Accept your place and you won’t get shot. Do as we say and you won’t get shot.
No. Just no.
Here’s the deal. I’m tired of paying my black tax. I’m tired of remaking and reshaping my blackness to make it more comfortable for you. I’m tired of trying to accommodate your feelings.
God didn’t put me on this earth to play with you hoes. God sent me to slay, so I am done paying my black tax. I am done subjecting myself to the emotional and psychological abuse that the system of race has established. I am done accommodating you. I am done educating you. I am done defending my basic existence. I am done with your nonsense. I am done reading through your facebook arguments. I am done pretending that people who will vote for Donald Trump might have a good argument (Newsflash, not being Hillary is actually not a platform. It’s a cop-out. It’s a cowardly way to sew your racism, sexism, and xenophobia into the fabric of America.) I am done sitting around waiting to see who of my friends will speak up for me, because even if you think that I “talk or act white” or that I’m “the whitest black guy you know,” in the eyes of the state, I’m black as hell. In the eyes of a loaded service pistol, I’m a fresh kill. In your eyes too, on your worst day, I will be black again, because you’ll need to feel some happiness or sense of accomplishment.
Are you listening America, we are done paying the black tax. We’re coming for what we deserve. We’re not just coming for 40 acres and a mule. No, We’re coming for everything you owe us. We’re coming for the blood, sweat and tears of our ancestors. We’re coming for the soil they tilled and the crops they harvested. We’re coming for the screams that echoed and the tears that fell when they were beat by their oppressor. We’re coming for the dogs that were set upon them in Birmingham. We’re coming for the ropes you used to lynch them. We’re coming for the hoses you sprayed on people fighting for freedom. We’re coming for the dream of Dr. King. We’re coming for the work of Malcom X. We’re coming for the ideology of James Baldwin and A. Phillip Randolph. We’re coming to live in the future that Rosa Parks, Fannie Lou Hamer, the Little Rock Nine, the Clinton 12, the Memphis 13, and so many others worked tirelessly for us to see. We’re coming for the racialization of poverty. We’re coming for the racism in the criminal justice system. We’re coming for the racism in the education system. We’re coming for the racism in politics. We’re coming for the racism in religion. We’re coming for the racism in thought and speech.
We’re coming for all the anguish and inner turmoil the invention of race has set upon us.
We’re coming to get a refund for our black tax.
We’re coming to slay.*
To Alton Sterling, Philando Castile, Tamir Rice, Mike Brown, Trayvon Martin, Terence Crutcher,and all of the brothers and sisters that we have lost, rest in power. Rest in peace.
*Slay(slang)- to accomplish something great.
