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 the NABJ and Not All Skinfolk Being Kinfolk

I don't have much to say about yesterday's NABJ Conference debacle and the messy events that preceded it, mainly because Black folx across the internet and beyond have covered all the bases and then some. But one thing that frustrates my soul is the interviewers and the heads of the NABJ trying to put a positive spin on this sh—.

I've seen and heard multiple messages and sound bytes since yesterday’s 30-minute sexist, racist, fragile ego-driven, anti-Black shindig trying to spin this mess as “eye-opening for voters” and doing the service of “showing us who [name redacted] truly is.” But you see, NABJ, there is one problem with this news cycle-level spin job:

WE ALL KNOW WHO HE IS.

Who the f—- didn't know who this man was and what he believed about Black people, women, and intersectionality before yesterday’s hateful antics?!

He didn't need stage time at your conference. None of us needed to watch another round of him attacking women, chastising and harming Black women in front of an audience, and being an absolute racist and white supremacy-driven sack of human excrement. Unless you've been in a coma or trapped in an underground bunker like Kimmy Schmidt for the past decade, this raggedy felon the NABJ scrambled for days to get on their stage for clout and headlines has shown us exactly who he is, to the point that you don't even need him to open his mouth to know how he feels. Did y'all think the public and your association members would buy that this was some altruistic venture, especially when all the behind-the-scenes shenanigans came to light?

Spin that nonsense somewhere else, NABJ.

Take your L. Make amends. But don't sit there acting like this all went pretty well unless you're referring to that well Buffalo Bill had at his house.

Don't act like you created a learning moment for us unless the lesson was that some people are still shocked when a leopard bites their face off.

And don’t act like this all pretty much went according to plan unless you planned to harm Black women.

It looks like the NABJ needs to learn that misogynoir and anti-Blackness can easily be stoked and fomented by Black people.

How about y'all research and investigate that, then get back to us with your findings?

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.