About Sonya

Sonya Massey.

I'm not going to watch the bodycam footage. I stopped that practice many years ago. I can’t keep watching my people die, so I refuse to engage in the trauma porn of our constant suffering.

Doesn’t make the reality of it all hurt any less.

I honestly have no more words for the ever-present harming and willful disregard of Black women. I have rage, sadness, deep sorrow, but no words that verbalize how jumbled it all feels in my brain, body, and soul.

I advise every Black person, every Black woman, to not watch the footage. Please don’t do that to yourself. That said, if you’re a Black person, especially a Black woman, and you feel like you have to watch, please do everything and anything you need to do to take care of yourself in the moment and after you’ve finished viewing it. Your mental and emotional health matter.

Black women just want to live without constant threats to their lives and livelihoods.

I don’t know why this is so damn difficult for people of pallor to want to understand.

Sonya Massey.

Say her name.

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.

A Quick Sit-Down on Juneteenth

Hey, people of pallor. It's y'boy, Pharoah. Not "your boy" - y'boy. Believe me when I say there is a difference.

But I digress.

We've got bigger fish to fry, so let me pull up a chair and straddle it like Commander Riker so we can have a quick chat.

You sitting down? You comfy? Alright. Awesome. Let's "rap."

I don't know the proper "greeting" or "well wishes" message that someone who isn't Black should offer to Black people on Juneteenth, but y'all wishing me a Happy Juneteenth does not feel right.

It gives "progeny of oppressors hoping you will give them a pass because, hey, you're getting a federal holiday for your ancestor's suffering, so why are you uncomfortable with me acknowledging the holiday that exists because of my ancestors oppressing your ancestors" vibes, which is not a good look.

So I'm gonna float a few alternatives your way so you don't have to insert your foot in your mouth on some fetish sh--.

Maybe you shouldn't say anything to the Black people in your lives outside of maybe hoping that today is a day of rest for them if they have it off from work.

Maybe you could not treat Juneteenth like a summer barbecue holiday and not diminish its significance like you've diminished Labor Day, Memorial Day, or even Independence Day.

Maybe you could take some time today to learn Juneteenth's history and significance while enjoying your unearned federal day off.

Maybe you could legitimately volunteer your time and energy to a cause supporting Black communities in your city while enjoying your unearned federal day off.

Maybe you could recognize that Juneteenth only represents the emancipation of enslaved Africans in Confederate states and that enslaved Africans as a whole weren't free across the United States until the passage and ratification of the Thirteenth Amendment in December 1865, so Juneteenth, while being a significant moment in Black U.S. history, isn't the "Black Independence Day" y'all have been led to believe it is.

...

You're gonna go ahead and ignore everything I said because it feels uncomfortable in your tummy and wish me a Happy Juneteenth anyway, aren't you?

Of course you are.

SIGH.

Well, I tried.

"Good talk."

[Image description: A cartoon of Star Trek: The Next Generation character Commander Riker awkwardly straddling and sitting in a chair.]

Image description: A cartoon of Star Trek: The Next Generation character Commander Riker awkwardly straddling and sitting in a chair.

On Resilience, Privilege, Catchphrases, and Affirmations

If you view resilience as something you can quantify as a "side quest" achievement that can be yours if you "work hard" and "dedicate yourself" to cultivating it, then you need to take a moment to acknowledge that you have led a privileged life.

A whole lot of us are resilient because we had no choice.

For many of us, it's about being resilient or perishing. Many of us come from lineages and ancestries that had to be resilient in the face of overwhelming oppression, racism, colonialism, elitism, classism, and white supremacy. Many of us carry the weight of our ancestors in our bodies while we navigate a world still using the same tools to oppress our communities 300+ years later. Many have identities that put us at odds with societal "norms" when all we want to do is live and thrive. Many of us tap into our resiliency daily because it's either fight or die.

There's no in-between.

If you're able to view resilience as a catchphrase, a watered-down yoga affirmation from your "guru" of pallor, or a "workplace value" for your company that you espouse to new hires with glee and gusto, you have no idea how privileged you are.

But hey, at least it looks "awesome" on that Etsy motivational poster you've got up in your house or cubicle, right?