Image from highbitmusic.blogspot.com
To: People That Work So Tirelessly to Disrespect Me Simply Because I’m Black
Let me first start by saying that I do know I’m expected to show my superior maturity by saying you do not bother me, but that would be a lie. You actually do often make me angry, though I always opt to refrain from telling you exactly what I think because I don’t think it’s wise to play into the stereotypes you obviously hold so near and dear to your hearts. I try not to let the whole racism thing bother me but I have this whole weakness of being human that I keep battling with.
On the laundry list of things that are done to show me how inferior I am for being Black, regardless of my family background, education, home, or any other shallow thing society uses to determine class and worth, one of the most frustrating things must be that you actually think so little of me and my intelligence that you genuinely believe I have no idea that you’re racist. Surprise! I actually do see those long indiscreet glares you give me. I know you think I miss them because I smile back, but that’s just me being polite. But not to worry, on the off chance that I do miss the glares, you can always rely on the negative comments you make about me to find their way back to me and my clearly untouchable feelings.
Though I can’t get enough of the contempt shown to me in your body language, one of my favorite past times would still have to be when I’m pitted against random White girls and their stellar 2.0 GPA’s because of how much you prefer them to me and my lowly ability to continuously be an honor’s student. Damn me, I really need to step up.
It’s usually totally understandable when I’m criticized and attacked for my liberal political views because I too have no idea why I wouldn’t support the GOP, you know, with their love and continued support for minorities and all. The nerve of me. This is really no different from me thinking I have the right to be upset when you tell me I need to get used to the world hating me for being Black. I’m really starting to wonder just who the hell I think I am.
Rap music. Yeah, you knew I was a fan. I really don’t know what to tell you man, I’m sorry. I tried to fight it but I just can’t act like even the shallowest of rappers don’t say some clever shit. Exhibit A: “I’m drunk and high at the same time, drinking champagne on an airplane”. You don’t even need The Blueprint or some other rap classic to see me act a fool, put on Let the Beat Build and prepare to hear me shout when I realize that Weezy actually has the beat building throughout the song. I’m sorry, I just don’t have the strength to snap my Biggie’s Greatest Hits Album in replace of some Beatles album just so you could have slightly more respect for me than you’d have for the rest of my fellow rap loving race-peers. Hey Jude’s nice and everything but it just doesn’t do it for me, no disrespect.
I could go on and on about how grateful I am for your continued reminders of how much you loathe me illegitimately, but I fear that you’ll start to think I’m not being serious. All in all, I just really wanted to say Thank You for giving me that extra stress to deal with every day of my life as you remind me of my inferiority, it’s just what I needed since life’s already so easy. Keep doing what you do.
