On An Election and A Country's True Identity

I'm not surprised. I'm saddened, but I’m not surprised.

I'm unsurprised that 59% of men of pallor and 52% of women of pallor voted the way they did. I'm sadly not surprised that after everything he said and will do to immigrants when he takes office, he still got 54% of the masculine-identifying and 37% of the feminine-identifying Latine and Hispanic vote.

I'm saddened, but I’m not surprised.

I am disheartened but unsurprised.

I didn’t need a reminder, but for those who did, this election was a firm reminder that the United States is precisely what it has always been: a country steeped in individualism and fear of moving forward, unwilling to be progressive and care for all its citizens, and legitimately uninterested in trying to be the country it likes to claim it is.

He won this election, and it wasn't even close in the popular or electoral vote. A party with a platform of hate, oppression, and regression will be in complete control of the Government come January 2025, and it wasn't even a fight.

And I know so many of y'all voted for this man and this party while playin’ in the faces of the people in your life who you know their policies and governance will do extreme harm to. Most of y'all are quick to bust out a Black Lives Matter sign or bring up trans and reproductive rights just to have a smoke screen to vote against everyone’s best interests.

I loathe that most of y'all won’t own your hatred and fear of losing what you think is exclusively yours - rights, privileges, and safety from tyranny.

I loathe that most of y'all won’t own who you are in front of those your choices impact.

I loathe that most of y’all will be shocked when the people you elected do the exact things you hired them to do and you find yourself and your families adversely impacted and in physical, mental, emotional, and economic distress.

But I’m not surprised.

You're Americans! That's what Americans do, right?

I'm saddened. I'm disheartened. I'm not surprised, though.

This is the American way, y'all.

Note: This poll data is from a subsection of the voter base from 10 states.

On Blackness and Being A Team Player

Being Black is being told you're not a team player for not allowing a workplace to place a metric ton of work and stress on your shoulders while you watch your “affable” co-workers of pallor do the barest of bare minimums while being lauded as great people.

Being Black is being told you're not a team player because you don't want to participate in work parties and picnics and prefer doing your job, doing it well, then going home to live the life you've worked so hard to create in a white supremacist capitalist society.

Being Black is being told you're not a team player because you have boundaries that you enforce and reinforce with co-workers who have none.

Being Black is being told you're not a team player because you don't want to be friends with every person of pallor in your office looking to capture a “Black friend” to co-sign their racist nonsense.

Being Black is being told you're not a team player and being subjected to oppressive actions and attitudes in the workplace that aim to break you and push you into assimilation or conformity as a fraudulent means of survival.

Being Black is being told you're not a team player so much that you start wondering if it's your name.

But real talk?

Being Black eventually comes with the realization that most of y'all don't know what a team player is because y'all are too busy being mired in the nonsense of white supremacist likeability politics.

But you know, keep telling Black folx we’re not team players while we're some of the only ones scoring points for the team.

On Melanated Olympics for Survival and the Responses of Pallor

I don’t think people of pallor understand or grasp the intricacies of the mental, emotional, and linguistic gymnastics that most melanated people, most Black and Brown folx, most Native and Indigenous folx, and all Black women and femmes engage in to maintain employment and stay safe in communities and workplaces of pallor. I’m talking about Olympic gold medal-level sh—.

“But Pharoah, I underst - - “

No. No you don’t.

“Really, Pharoah. I think I get it - - “

Nope.

“I’ve read about - -“

Oh, no boo-boo. You don’t want to say that.

“But - -“

Shhhh. Less talking and defending yourself and more acknowledging your complacency and participation in white supremacist culture.

Ain’t nobody got time for your Olympic-level deflection and defensiveness.

Listen. Learn. Disrupt. Own your actions and words.

We’re tired of medaling.

[Image description: A picture of the rapper Mase. He is looking at the viewer while holding his left pointer finger up in front of his mouth, essentially making the universal gesture for remaining silent.]

Image description: A picture of the rapper Mase. He is looking at the viewer while holding his left pointer finger up in front of his mouth, essentially making the universal gesture for remaining silent.

On Black Jobs and Being "The Help"

One of the many things that people of pallor do that always hits a particular nerve in me is the seemingly unbridled desire or unconscious urge to automatically assume that Black and Brown folx, Indigenous people, and people of color are "the help" so they should be addressed as such.

A chunk of the generational trauma that people of pallor navigate the world carrying in their brains and bodies is built upon biases, stereotypes, and a belief that most jobs and tasks aren't worthy of being jobs people of pallor should have or tasks they should have to do. And there seems to be this innate inability to refrain from making jokes about people of color doing manual labor for people of pallor. Hell, chattel slavery was built on these ideals, so it's not surprising that this messiness is imprinted in the DNA of generations of people of pallor.

But just because it's not surprising doesn't make it any less oppressive or mean that people of pallor shouldn't unpack and unlearn this sh—.

This nonsense has happened to me my entire life. Most people of color, Black and Brown folx, and Indigenous folx deal with this in some capacity. I have been stopped while shopping dozens of times by people who think I'm "the help." It doesn't matter what kind of store I'm in or that store team members are usually in uniform with a name badge on their lapels – I still get pegged as "the help." I have been in shorts and flip-flops and still have people of pallor asking me where the Brita filters are.

It happens when I'm gardening and minding my business in my yard. I've had people of pallor ask me for my card because they "think I do good work." Many jokingly quip, "You can come down to my house and do my lawn next," "I've got some weeds you can pull," or some other "funny banter." These interactions occur at least once a week in the summer months and too many times to count throughout the year.

I can't even wash my car without dealing with this nonsense. I washed my car yesterday, and as I was detailing the tires and interior, some woman of pallor cheerfully said, "I'm going to pull my car up, and you can do mine next!" I looked at her, stone-faced, and quickly said, "No. Not today." She obviously didn't expect my response because she reacted like I spit at her feet before quickly complimenting the job I was doing and moseying her ass down the street.

Let's be real: there is nothing wrong with any job. All jobs have merit and are good jobs. I will never denigrate anyone's job. Jobs of all kinds keep the world moving forward. Thousands of jobs ensure our lives are collectively easier, safer, healthier, and a little more assessable at the behest of people's blood, sweat, and tears. But this inherent assumption that many people of pallor carry that some jobs are beneath them and that melanated people are always here to serve? It's preposterous.

There are no Black jobs, Karen. There are just jobs. Period.

Your white supremacy is showing.

You might wanna tuck that in.

Joy

I'm not going to sit here and say things like, "Everything's gonna be alright," while the world is literally and figuratively burning because I think that's a lie. Everything is not alright and hasn't been alright for a long time. I think many of us know this, and our families have carried this trauma for generations. So many of us are fighting for a better, safer world, much like our ancestors were, and we're feeling the weight of it all like our ancestors did.

None of that means we can't have joy.

None of that means we shouldn't love our families and communities and continue celebrating and elevating our people.

There's still a lot of life to live.

I get it. It feels heavy. In these trying times, joy might even seem like a privilege. But joy is not a privilege - it's a right. You have the right to love life, your people, and all the positives and happiness triggers in your life.

It's not easy to find joy when the world seems dim, but we owe it to ourselves to seek out and embrace the things that bring us joy. We owe it to our families to model how there's still joy and wonder in this world to engage with. Unbridled joy is one of the many things that stop us from mentally, physically, and emotionally breaking under the weight of our oppressors. Joy is fuel to fight for the things you believe in and the people you love. Joy is protest. Joy is rest.

The possible future ahead of us could try to take many things from many of us. Please do everything you can not to let it take your sunshine.

Embrace joy.