Chuckle

I sometimes sit and reflect on my work, my career, the fact that white folx hire me and are shocked or turned off by me when I am the same person they interviewed for a position, and I didn't code switch or front in any way, and I can't help but chuckle.

I chuckle at how far a poor Black kid from Detroit who grew up loving comic books, action figures, and pro-wrestling has come in a world that doesn’t believe he should exist or thrive and how shocked so many white people are with these developments.

I chuckle at how I'll likely never get much further than I've gotten as long as I'm not working for myself.

I chuckle about how I used to find being labeled "dangerous" or "trouble" as demoralizing, but I now wear it as a badge of honor in white workplaces.

I chuckle about how often I've been called "unprofessional" because of how I dress, talk, and my overall assertiveness, while my white colleagues are applauded for the same things.

I chuckle about making a living off of sharing my pain and trauma to educate white people who are often more interested in the adrenaline provided by the stories I share and not the learning I'm offering them.

I chuckle about the audible and physical displays of anger white people and people of color with privilege, power, and positionality exhibit when I say something that hits a nerve and forces them to examine themselves and the things they believe.

I chuckle because there's a thin line between laughter, anger, and crying, and I'm done with crying and being in a constant state of rage.

The thing is, these "scary" systems and institutions of whiteness? They aren't so scary when you think about the amount of insecurity manifesting as narcissism and the good/bad binary that has gone into the conscious and unconscious perpetuation and support of white supremacy and its ideology for centuries. It's transparent. Its basis is paper-thin. It relies solely on white people, believing that they are "good" while often doing irreparable harm to people all because of the melanin in their skin. It's often comical to watch as whiteness scrambles to uphold itself and its grip in a world that is rapidly passing whiteness and white supremacy by in so many areas.

So I chuckle in the face of my oppressors, of white supremacy, because me chuckling is me centering me over my oppressors and their feelings. I chuckle because it ensures that I can do my work and live my life authentically and ethically while continuing my lifelong learning without feeling the urge to tell oppressors where they can go and how to get there every damn day. I'm gonna go ahead and keep shinin'. Y'all go ahead and keep being mad that you can't silence or oppress me. We'll see who dies from white-a-betes first. Something tells me it won't be me.

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Today I sat for a moment and reflected on my work, my career, the fact that white folx hire me and are shocked or turned off by me when I am the same person they interviewed for a position, and I didn't code switch or front in any way, and I couldn't help but chuckle. A nice, deep, hearty chuckle. The body-shaking kind.

Damn near spilled my La Croix.