On Tyre Nichols and Black Accountability Under the Spectre of Generational and Societal Trauma

Image Description: A picture of Tyre Nichols. He is smiling at the camera while wearing a lavender dress shirt, dark blue dress vest, lavender and dark blue tie, and dark blue pleated slacks. His hands are in his pockets.

T.W.: Murder, anti-Blackness, police brutality.

The murder of Tyre Nichols at the hands of five Black police officers in Memphis, Tennessee, is the intersection of white supremacy, policing, and Black self-hatred. The men that murdered Tyre were operating in a state of believing their police affiliation made them invulnerable to accountability, their Blackness be damned. They were feeding off the power they thought their positionality gave them and wielded that power to harm their own. And because they willingly disregarded the fact that badge or no badge, they're still Black men in the United States, this will likely be one of the rare times when police officers are held responsible for police brutality. And real talk?

They should be held responsible.

And Black communities should want them to be held accountable for murdering a Black man. Why?

Because accountability can't be a pick-and-choose situation.

Over the years, I've found that discussions of accountability for Black men who harm other Black people in Black communities often fall into the space of explanations pushing for why Black folx should forgive or disregard the harm they've caused. This is often frustrating for me to watch and engage with because too many Black people want to push forgiveness when Black people pose a danger to Black people or be outright quiet about it.

Regardless of the generational trauma we carry in our Black bodies, we cannot give a pass to Black people harming others while operating in spheres of white supremacist ideology. And we must stop providing Black men a pass when they harm other Black people. We've got to push through the discomfort and have hard conversations about accountability while respecting that trauma and self-hatred might be at play but not as excuses for murdering and harming others.

P.S., especially for Black folx: Please do not watch the videos of Tyre being harmed when they're shared with the public tomorrow. Don't do harm to yourself with this "Black trauma porn." You don't need to watch footage of a Black man being harmed in his final hours. No one does.

Why I Didn't Post Anything on MLK Day

A white "professional" who follows me on social media dropped me a line yesterday to tell me they were surprised I hadn't posted anything on Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Day. They're right: I didn't post anything on Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Day. Real talk?

I'm not obligated to post about Black sh—on a national holiday primarily created to appease Black communities by white politicians who wanted to feel like "good" white people.

I'm also not obligated to explain why I didn't post thoughts on Martin Luther King, Jr. Day, especially to white people. But you know what? I will explain why because I'm feeling generous enough to put the anxiety and weight that the white person who reached out to me tried to put on my shoulders right back on theirs and teach 'em something while doing it.

You’re welcome in advance.

So why didn't I post anything on MLK Day?

Why bother?

Look, white folx. We [Black folx] have the same discussion about how y'all misappropriate quotes and belittle the words and works of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. with y'all every year. We have similar conversations with y'all about Dr. King and other Black luminaries that your grandparents hated and that you've deified and misinterpreted the work of all year long. We have to check y'all all the time on treating Black people like your Great Value gurus and "your spirit animals" on the other 364 days of the year (someone's Lord, don't get me started on the spirit animal thing). To be honest?

I have nothing else to teach you about the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. that I didn't teach y'all last year, the year before, and every year for at least the last decade.

You've likely forgotten what I said about this day last year. I could post the same message on my social media channels on MLK Day every year, and most of y'all will respond to it like it's new to you. Every Black person in the United States could post the same post we wrote together in a Google Doc annually, and only a few of y'all would catch it. And that's the problem.

Most of y'all aren't paying attention, learning, and doin' the work until we stop doin' it for you.

Us telling you not to sully the name of Dr. King on MLK Day is your security blanket. Us telling you to do better, be better, and dismantle the sh—you created is like comfort food. And once we don't do it? Y'all be around here actin' cold and hungry when you've got on a winter coat and didn't finish the first plate you grabbed in the buffet line.

Maybe you should finish digesting what me and mine have been sharing with y'all for years before you expect us to give you more of ourselves.

Holla at me when you begin to remotely respect the legacy and work of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. and Black U.S. America in general without needing an annual prompt.

Drop me a line when you respect the Free99 labor and energy Black folx give y'all and start taking in and processing the hard truths we've been giving y'all for over a century.

And stop dropping me a line because I didn't post something Black on a Black holiday. I don't work for you.

Not a good look, white people. But y’all already knew that.

P.S.: I spent MLK Day resting my tired Black bones and avoiding white sh--. It was time well spent. If you're white and had MLK Day off, please understand that it's not a day of rest for you and yours; feel me?

On tWitch, Trauma, and Being a Black Man in Peril

Image description: a picture of Stephen "tWitch" Boss. He is wearing a yellow beanie and a red and green plaid shirt with rolled sleeves. He is smiling at the viewer.

TW: Discussion around suicide and Black trauma.

With the passing of Stephen "tWitch" Boss, I found myself thinking again this morning about the weight many Black men carry in their brains and bodies.

I think about depression, anxiety, and how Black men and Black bodies have been conditioned to "just deal." In concept and conversation, I'm reflecting on the taboo treatment of mental health in many Black communities. I'm thinking of how my family scoffed at me when I brought up my struggles with depression as a teenager and adult. I think about how I was a functional alcoholic from 15 to my early twenties to dull the pain of feeling inadequate and unable to help my family rise from poverty. I look back on how my family and parents reacted when I mentioned one or all of my siblings possibly struggling with depression and anxiety. I find myself in my teens again, watching my father block out his depression and childhood trauma with gambling and alcohol. I reflect on how my father was in a near-constant state of unhappiness for most of my childhood and adult life and finding out about his decades of drug abuse a few years ago. And while mulling over all of these things, I can't help but wonder how many Black men might still be here if our community cultures didn't deter Black men from being vulnerable and more open to taking care of themselves and asking for help.

I wish being a Black man could include being a human being grappling with your trauma and emotions and seeking help and support from other Black people without being looked down on and being called a "sissy" or "punk."

I wish being a Black man didn't come with the spoken and unspoken shackles of "just deal" ideologies.

I wish being a Black man came with the option to believe in self-care and therapy and talk about it out loud to show other Black men, Black people, that you don't have to be afraid of being a multi-layered being.

I wish being a Black man didn't come with so many ingrained and societally-driven ways to die.

To my fellow Black men: it's OK not to be OK. It's OK not to "be hard" and walk around with a facade masking your pain and trauma. It's OK to ask for help. It's OK to prioritize your mental and emotional health. It's OK to be vulnerable and open and honest. It's OK to believe that you deserve to feel better because you do deserve it.

If you need help, please do not hesitate to seek help. Go to https://www.sprc.org/populations/blacks-african-americans for resources and information. Call the Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 800-273-TALK (8255) or text the Crisis Text Line at 741741. Find a Black therapist in your area at https://www.psychologytoday.com/us and schedule an appointment as soon as possible. Get the help you deserve. Your life and health matter.

Black Mental Health Matters.

Rest well, tWitch. Rest well.

[Image description: a picture of Stephen "tWitch" Boss. He is wearing a yellow beanie and a red and green plaid shirt with rolled sleeves. He is smiling at the viewer.]

On Fresh Baked Bread and Finding The Medium of Identity and Career Aspirations

Image description: A picture of fresh-baked herb focaccia bread. The bread has been sliced into squares.

As a melanated person, a Black person, in white-centered workplaces, I speak from experience when I say a great deal of energy and a sense of grounding and peace comes from not caving into the "norms" and demands of white supremacist workplace culture ideology as a means of survival. It is liberating to work toward finding the medium in your career that allows you to maintain your identity while thriving personally and financially. With that said, I can also say that by doing so, you open yourself up to a great deal of uncertainty in your future employment opportunities.

Everybody isn't going to be too keen on you maintaining who you are, even those who claim that's why they hired you. They'll expect you to be someone different, to change yourself, and make yourself "acceptable." They will verbalize these expectations, putting your job on the line and leaving you feeling like you're inadequate or a "bad" employee. There will be times when you decide to change yourself to protect yourself. Those moments will hurt, and you might find yourself harboring some resentment, anger, or disappointment toward yourself because you won't feel as protected as you thought. You might not feel protected at all. You may feel more unsafe than ever in your workplace. You'll feel alone.

But you're not alone, far from it.

So many people are flipping that same coin every day because of the world we live in and the workplaces our society has cultivated.

Please know that you are not alone. Please know that I do not judge you because I've been in your shoes and see the weight you carry with your decisions. If anything, I wish you the space and energy to find ways not to shrink who you are and what you bring to the workplace into a trail of crumbs instead of the fresh, robust focaccia you genuinely are. It's not easy, but I promise it is worth it.

Sending you energy and love as you navigate the quagmire of career employment.

P.S.: Yeah, I just compared you to bread. Focaccia, to be exact. Your future and needs are decadent fuel for your soul, like focaccia. You know what? Maybe you should have some focaccia and dipping oil and call it a day. You deserve it.

On Melanin, Mermaids, and Well Water

The white folx out here mad about Black elves, mermaids, and extraterrestrials in television shows and films are the same white folx who are also mad whenever Black folx, Black women, in their workplaces get leadership roles, promotions, and salary increases.

The waters of their hate and intolerance in both instances are pumped from the same well.

Don't act like this hate is about "preserving the source material," "honoring the original novels," or anything like that. It's about white folx preserving what they think is theirs, what they believe is owed to them. It's about believing their identity is the only identity that matters at work and in the media they consume. It's about the unwillingness to sit with the belief that heroes and leaders can be green, orange, pale, have face ridges, pointy ears, fangs, tails, and a whole lot of other incredulous things going on, but them being Black? That's "too much." Why?

Because they believe Black people aren't heroes or protagonists, they believe Black people can't be leaders and experts in their fields. They can't be heroes. They can't be the main character of the story. They can't lead industries and shape workplaces. Why?

For many white people, Blackness being anything more than chattel slavery and centuries of systemic oppression is unbelievable. For them, being Black and a leader and protagonist is more of a fantasy than hobbits, elves, mermaids, explorers, leaders, and superheroes. For many white people, Black folx are and will always be less than, which means that we're not worthy of being heroes, leaders, protagonists, or new interpretations of stories and characters that whiteness has deemed white classics.

Some white people need to own that they want their workplaces, television, films, and literature to prescribe to 3/5 Compromise logic. Own who you are and what you believe. You'll still be foolish and hateful, but you won't look as silly as some white person on the internet raging over a mermaid being Black when their ancestors threw my ancestors' deceased or weary Black bodies off of slave ships to the bottom of the ocean.

Never mind. You'll still look just as silly.

Your white supremacy is showing. Might wanna tuck that in.