Both And

Sometimes I have to remind myself that many of the people in the United States pushing for gun safety and banning Critical Race Theory while attacking trans and queer communities are people who have allowed their trauma and familial and community influences to hurt them on a deep level. And hurt people hurt people. I have to make sure I'm considering that hateful views and bigotry are ingrained and learned behaviors often fostered in people from a young age by their families and communities. I must be cognizant of the trauma we all carry and how that trauma manifests as malicious weapons, especially for those with power, privilege, and positionality. I must acknowledge how white supremacist ideologies and societal norms influence how people overtly and covertly wield hate.

But I never have to remind myself that none of the above are excuses or passes for people to be sh—-y, hateful, and harmful to others.

It's both and.

Yeah, hurt people tend to hurt others, especially when they have the power and opportunity to do so. But just because you're unwilling to confront and unpack your generational and societal trauma and familial influences doesn't mean you get to place the burden of your hurt on those your skewed beliefs deem appropriate to oppress.

I can hold out hope for your healing and still hold you accountable for the harm you cause. I can acknowledge your trauma and expect you to work on your sh— and improve.

I will simultaneously check you and ask somebody to pray for your soul.

It's both and.

Why?

Because even if you're a hate-filled human being, you're still human. You're still worthy of love and care, even if you think me and my people aren't. You're still worthy of healing and support, even if you think other communities aren't.

Even though you may hate my people and me, I don't hate you. Even though you hate people and communities who have done you no harm, I don’t hate you. Why? I'm practicing living in health and joy. Practicing hate to respond to the hatred of harmful people stuck in their trauma does nothing for anyone. No person who has lived in a cycle of trauma and hate has ever been joyful about life.

I ain’t got time for that. Life is short.

Real talk? I hope you get to that place at some point in your life where your hate and trauma aren't your driving forces for the sake of everyone your unresolved pain harms. I hope you get to the point where you can be accountable for your words and actions and acknowledge your pain and the pain you create.

In the meantime, I'mma ask one of my religious homies to pray for your soul while praying for me to have the serenity not to want to lay hands on you while you sport your MAGA hat and act like you’re disappointed in me because I checked yo’ ass and you thought I was "one of the good ones."

Hey, I’m human.

Both and.

On Trayvon, Sandra, and Existing While Black

[Image description: pictures of Sandra Bland and Trayvon Martin. Both are smiling at the camera as their photographs are taken, which means they are smiling at the viewer.]

TW: police violence, murder, anti-Blackness.

This past Sunday, Trayvon Martin should've been celebrating his 28th birthday surrounded by friends and family.

Sandra Bland should be celebrating her 36th birthday today, surrounded by friends and family.

But they're not. They're gone because of whiteness, of white people, of a white society that has no issue with seeing Black people as a persistent danger for no reason outside of intolerance and hatred.

Blackness in the United States is simultaneously living in mourning and celebration. It's observing 28 scheduled days of Black achievement and pain in white spaces in front of white audiences looking to feel good about themselves while commodifying our existence as novelty and curiosity until we are deemed dangerous and expendable. Sometimes that expendability leads to reinforcing cycles of systemic and generational poverty.

Other times it comes in the form of trauma and death.

It is far too often the latter.

No matter what they tell you or what you've read, our deaths are never justifiable, especially considering how white domestic terrorists are handled in this country. Still, our harm and deaths are often unwarranted yet blamed on us as something we brought on ourselves. And yet we're expected to get up every day, put on a smile, and live with the fact that today could be the day we don't make it back home from a trip to the corner store or after getting pulled over for no damn reason. Somehow we face all of this and contribute to society and our communities in ways that help everyone, including white people, because that's who we are deep down inside. That's how we were raised, the descendants of enslaved people on unceded land. We were raised by people who, sadly enough, passed on the generational trauma they're carrying in their bodies and all of the "rules" that come with it. They didn't know they were; they were trying to protect the next generation. We've unconsciously embodied much of what was passed to us because we want what our parents, their parents, and their grandparent's parents wanted: to live without harm and without harming others.

To dream.

To live and love and achieve great things.

To not be murdered by white violence.

This is what it looks like to live while Black in the United States.

Trayvon should be 28.

Sandra should be 36.

But they aren't.

A Message to Black Professionals and Working Folx During a Moment of Trauma

TW: Murder, trauma, police brutality, and anti-Blackness.

Black professionals and working folx: it's OK not to be OK. I don't care what your employer says or how they feel about you needing time to grieve and heal after another high-profile murder of a Black man by the white supremacist system of policing civilians and its accompanying video footage. I hope beyond hope that you did not engage with that footage. If you did, I hope for peace for your mind, body, and soul. Regardless, you have the right to take some time today, this week, to breathe and center the health of your body and brain. You have the right to care for your mental, emotional, and physical health and navigate a new but familiar trauma this week.

F--- that spreadsheet. You matter more than anything going on at work this week.

You're experiencing the weight of a seemingly never-ending and constantly reinforced collective trauma that your ancestors endured and passed on to you through genetics. It wasn’t their fault they passed this genetic trauma on to you. They were enduring constant visceral harm that created the byproducts of familiar harm we’re enduring now. Your brain and body are exhausted. They've been exhausted because new traumas emerge every time they dive into healing traumas, and old traumas get reignited due to the explicit message that Black lives don't matter in the United States. Add to this the feeling of powerlessness that comes from watching white supremacy "empower" members of your community to wantonly harm and kill your people in the name of white supremacist ideology. That's why you feel heavy. This sh-- takes an almost immeasurable toll on our brains and bodies, and we've resigned ourselves to "pushing through it" when all we're doing is wading through quicksand with ankle weights while still processing the shackles of our ancestors. Don't "push through."

Pause.

Breathe.

It’s OK to call time out.

That meeting can be postponed.

That conference call ain't that important.

That "urgent task?" It wasn't that urgent before now, and it won't be that urgent later this week when you get to it.

Please do what you can to take care of yourselves, my people.

I wish you wellness this week in whatever form it may take.

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?