Black People, our Beautifully Tragic (R)evolution | Confessions of an Urban Shaman on

Publisher’s Note: Cross-posted with permission. Post author Useer Maat’ra

At this moment, in an age of uncertainty, devisivness and fear many of us seek a true declaration of solidarity. We want this blatant move towards an American Reich to also be the beginning of a Golden Age of Neo African growth. A resurgence of socio-afrocentric centered thought, shout outs to the ancestors, neighborhoods fillled with woke warriors, pure and unapologetic. An endless ocean of black love.

-milton goosby


We have grown together, from the womb to the tomb and points laid out, despite centuries of having our psyche torn asunder. From Reconstruction to the streets of Charlotte we have stood, academics and hood warriors, in spirit, time and again, links in a chain of our own making.

True, there has always been opposition within our Collective. Was that not part of the diabolical working created during our ancestors captivity? To sow division amongst the people in order to further the advancement of a Protestant, Anglo-Saxon global empire built on the backs of supposed inferior races? Deliberate obliteration of the age old cultures of the kidnapped and indigenous peoples. We are the end product of centuries of outright class warfare, colorism, toxic masculinity. State sanctioned terror. Sisters have ever been the victims of adopted and adapted white paternalistic misogynoir. And I see the effect in particular with the advent of our potentially greatest ally, social media. I have had to move away from the psychological pummeling encouraged by the open world philosophy of Internet transmission. Among the diamonds that shine through with daily messages of love and encouragement there are pitfalls of our own making. I have taken it upon myself to ignore or block declarations of slander if one does not follow Jesus, Allah, Jah or Afrocentrism. We are not sick, we are the harbingers of a cure laid dormant by hypocrisy and blindness.

I love how we have identified the fallacy befallen our brethren due to toxic masculinity. From the healing, dealing with the fact that manhood in all its guises is a beautiful rebellion. We can love our women and each other without fear of failure. Watch the walls brought forth by patriarchy come a tumbling down. No more the Buck or useless body beholden to a hypermasculine, action movie template. Our tears can fill rivers we have held back so long from fear of being seen as weak.

Black love is old as the cosmos, comes in all flavors, it’s flame indiscriminate. And I have seen a future that predates preconceived tendencies. Because we’re all in this fast sinking ship together.

Our sisters damn well should be free to walk proud, walk away without threat of violence, promote their own swag. I see you out there on the front lines even though some sit quiet or accuse you of exploitation, manipulation of the order because you refuse to stand down.

My apologies to you that many brethren shut down when we’re not put at the head of the discussion. I urge you though, continue your refusal, don’t let old notions of normality, monogamy or biblical, heteronormative contract shape how you live. Let your fierceness be an infection inciting fear in the heart of any enemy. Love as thou wilt, when and whoever. Let no man tear your soul asunder.

We have, despite all contrary reports, learned self love on a global scale. Millions standing firm, pressing for change. I have moved away from those seeking to tear us down from within. To continue a work long after it’s been proven detrimental, is sickness.

Glance backward a bit to the growth spurned by self reliance. We have honed so many of our skills in an effort to keep money in our neighborhoods. Sisters selling plates straight from their kitchens, doing hair in the living room to vibrant tunes. Cats laying tracks and keeping all the funds so as not to be pimped by the industry. Ingenuity, integrity, benevolence have always held true. What else was there outside of our bond, truth to power amongst ourselves? I feel in my soul the evolution still, how as a people we continue to fill our communal belly. Recall how when the general population was screaming about a recession and we rolled with it? Our economy thrives on more than just a common commerce. And common sense only dictates that we take necessary steps to consolidate, stop with the berating, cause a hard head can’t hear shit. And continue to swap knowledge so our future is secure on the financial playing field.

Right now we are standing at the gateway to the rest of our lives. Even I have popped off at mouth about what I’d do if I was alive when our ancestors suffered on this stolen soil.

Here’s that chance we never really wanted.

My homegirl is saying it loud: they coming for us. Not some. Not just a particular shade. Not just the poor. White supremacy has once again gained an overt foothold. Seig heil shouted aloud, echoing from five star hotels in Washington, blocks from where the black president sleeps. This is not a drill. They’re not giving passes to our biracial comrades, the disabled, the mentally ill, queer, transgender or transmaculine. All of us. Be it economic sanction, prosecution for civil disobedience or continued, callous assassination, we are forever marked. Purity can be found in the embrace garnered by acceptance of all our intersectionalities. To be black, poor/rich/straight/queer/androgynous/transgender/transmaculine and in love with the fruits of our continued evolution is radical, revolutionary, defiant. Dangerous.

Oh yes, we have miles yet to trod. I had to stop expecting perfection, stop settling for performance.

I can expect nothing else from our grandparents, fathers and mothers, who took blows and passed a torch whose fire we have allowed to burn low. I can’t blame them for being just as tired and disillusioned. I can however help strengthen the chain through constant self care and unshakable devotion. I have to. I am. I love you. And so, although I’m not looking to die, I do. Everyday.

Writ in blood, yours truly…

The Revolution.

Black Male Masculinity Isn’t Under Attack, Misogynoir Is

Originally published at on November 21, 2016.

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