Being black can be exhuausting

When
i first saw the Pharrell’s album cover on Instagram I immediately
noticed that there were no black women and thought in my head, here we
go again. Do black artists really not understand that they are in a
position to give a different perspective to the standard of beauty?
Imagine if every rapper only used girls with natural hair in their
videos or if the “main chick” tended to be on the dark side more often.
Imagine what that would do for our entire community. Imagine being able
to look around and see people that look like us everywhere and not just
in black media. Imagine if a black woman who had not lightened her skin
and thinned her nose over time appeared on the cover of Vogue and it
wasn’t a big deal. I am taking nothing away from our lighter skinned
sisters, but the fact of the matter is your beauty is celebrated, not
because you are a beautiful black woman, but because you are a beautiful
black woman who is closer to a standard of white beauty. Imagine having
a black actress win an Oscar and it wasn’t a big deal. Imagine not
having to shop in the “ethnic” section of the hair aisle, imagine if all
hair products were just consider hair products. Imagine if in book
stores all American authors were grouped together rather than having
fiction, non fiction, self-help, african-american authors. Imagine if
innocent black men did not feel their heart pounding in their chest as
soon as they see large groups of cops or when they are pulled over.
Imagine if a minority of your black friends rather than a majority of
your black friends had a story about a run in with police (Mine starts
with “Miami PD pulled a gun on me”).

What is it about this skin?

I must say, the recent dramas during the last year around blackness,
e.g. George Zimmerman and Micheal Dunn, coupled with everyday racist
shit, topped with the exclusion of black people from all forms of media
and honors (e.g. no black people topping billboard last year and
macklemore winning rap album of the year), blackness is becoming
exhausting. The constant hatred and othering that we are faced with on
such a regular basis is not only mind blowing but it is EXHAUSTING.

Having lived in the US and now lived outside for six years, every time
I return to the US I realize how much shit, as a black person in
America you put up with on a regular basis, much of the time unbeknownst
to your conscious self. In order to survive, the brain begins to ignore
so many of the daily microaggressions so you don’t become aggressive.
For those who are not familiar with the term microaggression please
google it and after you do STOP DOING IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

During
the last few months in Rome while I have tried to ignore my constant
othering by strangers and people I know alike, I have found myself
becoming angry. I am tired of being stared at by men. I am tired of
people telling me it’s because I am beautiful. It is because I am an
OTHER. When I am alone in this city I use my headphones as my shield.
Though I see the lips of men moving I ignore them. Perhaps not all of
them are being annoying perverts. Perhaps some are being polite and
greeting me with a “Buongiorno”. I have been so damaged by the rudeness
towards me that I have become rude to others. Rome is beginning to
change who I am because I am allowing it to.

When alone at
night in areas of the city that are not full of people, I fear sexual
assault. There is the prevailing idea of the black woman as a prostitute
and I am honestly afraid that one night someone drunk may try it. When I
am alone I do not feel comfortable walking in restaurants because I
know that more than half of the patrons will stare at me, as it always
is. When I go out with my fellow dark-skinned friend we actually take
note EVERY SINGLE TIME someone is nice to us because it is a rare
occurrence.

People I know constantly touch my hair and make
jokes about blackness and I say nothing. I am too tired. And my words
have fallen on deaf ears all too many times. So now, I have become a bit
of a recluse. I do not go out much. If you know me, you know this is
not me. Rome is changing me. But on the positive side, I am reading
more, blogging more, writing more, cooking more and enjoying my own
company.

Sorry to write a manifesto here on facebook but it
just came out since its been on my mind. Some say that the real problem
with social media is that you are comparing your life documentary to
everyone else’s highlight reel. Well here is a slice of my life
documentary. Overall I have a great life and I will not sit here
pounding my fists on the floor, but sometimes it is tough.