"Black People Don't Do That..."

There are times when I hate being black... And it's not because of the double standard of being a black woman (though that has come up in the past). And it's not because of the higher risk of diseases and being misdiagnosed (though that has come up in the past). And it's not because of my hair (though that has come up the past, but more recently than ever before). And it's not because of my ancestry (though that has come up in the past). And it's not because of my skin color (though that has come up in the past). No, these aren't necessarily the reasons why I hate being black, despite being confronted by others or told these things from the news, polls, or general conversations in-person or online. And they are very valid reasons why I could hate being black. But those reasons aren't the primary reasons why I hate being black. No, if I have to be honest with you (and I'm getting better at this every chance I get)... The reason why I hate being black is because of how I'm expected to like, do, not do, or not like certain things. Like just because I'm black I'm expected to know all of the black artists in rap, hip hop, R&B, and gospel. Or even all of the songs in these genres, or even how to sing these songs in these genres. Like just because I'm black I'm expected to like, even crave, foods like fried chicken, okra, ribs, macaroni & cheese, chitlins, trotters, sweet potato pie, and collard greens. Like just because I'm black I'm expected to watch black-centric shows and films 24/7 like Good Times, The Cosby Show, Girlfriends, Waiting to Exhale, How Stella Got Her Groove Back, The Color Purple, Set It Off, Empire, The Chi, Moesha, Atlanta, or A Different World. Like just because I'm black I'm expected to be a loudmouth, be running my mouth every second I open it up to speak, or even talk with a slang or drawl that automatically says "black." Like just because I'm black I'm expected to wear excessive amounts of makeup, have excessive amounts of fake eyelashes, have excessive amounts of open skin from head to toe, and have my hair in outrageous colors, weaves, braids, and everything in between. Like just because I'm black I'm expected to know how to rap or sing excessive high notes and overdo my performance by objectifying my body and get applause. Like just because I'm black I'm expected to do all of the "black" things that's expected of me to do... Because if I don't, I'm automatically deemed a white person. I'm deemed a white person for liking ballads and oldies and classical music and musical theatre and jazz and Irish music and country and every music that makes me happy and allows me to feel. I'm deemed a white person for dressing in jeans that aren't ripped or show of my derriere in a sensual way, or even wearing clothes that are colorful and aren't always black all over or have a favorite pop or rap artist on the front of a T-shirt. I'm deemed a white person for speaking well and enunciating my words. I'm deemed a white person for enjoying a healthy mix of classic and mainstream films, Disney films, staged film versions, and even some international films more than just watching black film and TV shows. I'm deemed a white person for not hearing a single song by Doechii, Dua Lipa, Beyonce, Missy Elliott, D'Angelo, Nas, 50 Cent, Drake, Lil Wayne, Nicki Minaj, Eminem, Kendrick Lamar, and others that are so mainstream to black culture. I'm deemed a white person for enjoying fashion history, British history, film history, Disney history, theatre history, religious history, world history, and art history alongside U.S. history that does include black history. I'm deemed a white person for eating plant based foods and doing my best to eat healthy, and not eat fatty foods that's so prevalent to black history. I'm deemed a white person for enjoying Renaissance festivals, cottagecore, tea parties, trips to galleries and museums, traveling to Europe, and reading cozy mysteries. And the list goes on and on and on... Because there's no other way around it. Even though I'm black, to some black people, I'm always white because of who I am, and my very existence is a reason for them to look at me in a strange way, talk behind my back, and even call me out for being "on a plantation." And I'm supposed to be expected to be "black" by some black people, because if I'm not, I'm automatically white, which in their eyes means I'm better than they are, and that makes them feel inferior, which causes them to be jealous and resentful towards me, and in turn causes them to call me white and a traitor to the black culture. Or worse still, they call me out for doing the things that aren't "black" to them. "Black people don't go to classical music concerts to see Yo-Yo Ma." "Black people don't eat plant-based foods." "Black people don't go skydiving." "Black people don't do yoga." "Black people don't go ice skating." "Black people don't go hiking." "Black people don't do cottagecore." "Black people don't cook scones." "Black people don't listen to Carrie Underwood or The Beach Boys or Carlos Santana or U2." "Black people don't go to therapy." "Black people don't go see Broadway shows." "Black people don't go to the theatre." "Black people don't watch Breakfast at Tiffany's or Singin' in the Rain or Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid or Top Gun." "Black people don't travel to Japan or Malaysia or Italy or France." "Black people don't listen to Latin music or opera or ballads or inspirational songs." "Black people don't watch Saturday morning cartoons." "Black people don't go to Renaissance festivals." And so much more that's either said or implied with odd and even disgusted looks. Well, there's just one thing I have to say about that... Who says? Who says that black people shouldn't do all of those things? Who says that black people have to be a monolithic race? Who says that black people should only just feel trauma and pain and rage? Who says that black people can't be individuals within their own race? I never knew there was supposed to be a rule book on how to be "black," and I'm certainly not going to be following it anytime soon. And neither are some of these black people, for that matter...

Let me share with you two stories - one of them came from over five years ago, and the other happened recently within the past seven months. The first one is about the time I commented on a Facebook post about the 4th of July and I said something along the lines of how our ancestors wouldn't like us griping and complaining all these centuries later, even with the racism and discrimination. I'm the type of person who always sees things through a hopeful lens, and while I'm aware of the continued discrimination, there are glimpses and glimmers of hope from blacks who are rising above it, though not an easy task, not by a long shot. Several minutes later, I received a comment that somehow stayed with me all these years later: "Enjoy living on your plantation." And that was after being accused of not thinking like a black person or even respecting black history. And that was repeated twice when I tried telling that person that I'm not living on a plantation, not one bit. The second story happened more recently during a photoshoot. It was near the end of the photoshoot when we were all getting in our final shots, and there were requests for more music to play. Something upbeat and fun. Not one to pass up the opportunity, I volunteered my 90s playlist, and the first song that came on was "Slam Dunk Da Funk" by Five. That sounds like a pretty upbeat and fun song to me, right? Wrong. At least according to the fellow attendees at the photoshoot. I ended up getting some odd looks from others and they told me to play music by an artist named Doechii. I had no idea who Doechii was, and after that photoshoot, I never want to hear her music ever again. Because I left that photoshoot feeling very small and very ashamed of being black... And not being the black person that others expect me to be simply because of my music tastes not being up to the "black" standard. It's a terrible feeling to be an outsider in your own race, and not to mention wary and fed up by all of the stares and the whispers from others when you're not dressing like your race, or talking in the same dialect or accent as your race, or even doing all the things that your race does that brings a sense of community, like listening to music, going to parties, eating good food, and even going to church or following a faith-based religion. And it's bad enough that you're just trying to be your own individual while also being respectful to the racial history that came with it. But let me ask you this: What's wrong with being an individual in black communities? Or Latin communities? Or Asian and Pacific Islander communities? Or Jewish communities? Or indigenous communities? Whatever happened to "the one and only you?" Whatever happened to being okay with not following the crowd and paving paths for people to excel and succeed that have long been closed off to the races and colors that make up this country? Why do individuals have to be shamed if they like things that a lot of other people don't or understand? Why do individuals have to be constantly reminded of the pain and tribulations their families and ancestors endured when all they want is to be happy in their own lives? Why do individuals have to follow the strict codes and guidelines of being in a certain race or group in order to fit in or be included at events and gatherings? Why do individuals have to give up being an individual in their own race or culture in order to honor their ancestors from centuries ago? Have you ever given any thought that maybe the ones that are living on the plantations aren't those of us who are trying to be individuals and do what makes us happy... But the ones who stuck to the code of being in a race or culture without much thought to embrace individuality? Or even have an open-mind to accept that race does not equal a monolith, no matter what our skin color is? Before I go to far, I will say this: I respect black history, and I love learning about the pioneers in science, politics, music, dance, theatre, and more who opened doors for blacks to pursue those careers in the very fields I mentioned. Learning about our ancestry and the history of blacks in this nation and around the world has been both a humbling and an eye-opening experience for me. And I grieve with everyone who's experienced racism and discrimination over the course of the 400 years of racism in this country, and I am outraged by the continued racism and discrimination these years later at the hands of individuals who don't believe that "all men are created equal" applies to blacks. Our rage is justified, as is our anger that's been known to reach a boiling point these past few years. But here's a sad reality I've noticed as I've walked this earth for these thirty-something years... There are some people who are so stuck in that rage and endless cycle of racism and discrimination that they have a tendency to take it out on some blacks who don't necessarily fit the mold of who they consider to be "black" people. Or worse still, do things that they've accepted to be considered "black" enough by others who instilled the idea and beliefs that all black people are a certain way, so it must be true for them as well. There may even be an unspoken code about what it means to be black in some people's eyes, and that includes being a loudmouth, blasting hip hop or rap in your cars with the bass being especially high, wearing saggy pants that show your underwear, eating soul food every Sunday morning after church or at funerals or at weddings, having excessive makeup with false eyelashes, watching black TV shows and films on repeat, and the list goes on and on... And they seem to stuck with this code, and go after blacks that don't follow it. "If you want to be black and be accepted by us, you have to do all of these things because if you don't, you're not black at all. You're white!" And some blacks seem to be stuck with not accepting that individuality does matter in races, even going on borderline appalled if someone decides to do something that isn't necessarily "black" enough or even so different that they could be disowned by their own race. So why are some blacks so stuck in sticking with the unspoken black code, and deeming those blacks who don't abide by a lot of the rules of this code as not black enough? Well... In all honesty, it could be several reasons, all stemming from generational trauma and their current circumstances. Believe it or not, there has been a time when some blacks were wealthy, and that wealth passed on throughout the generations. There was also a time when some blacks were able to get a good education, whether at a historically black college or university or a public university that is predominantly white. There was also a time when some blacks were able to get good jobs beyond servants, janitors, maids, and other demeaning tasks. There was also a time when some blacks could afford to live in an actual home with plumbing, enough rooms for everyone to sleep in, and in a nice neighborhood. Unfortunately, it didn't apply to all blacks, and some of the blacks felt that those blacks who were wealthy, got a good education, and had a good job with loving, supportive families were considered better than those blacks who were poor, living in the wrong end of cities, didn't have good homes or grew up in loving households, and didn't even have the chance to have a good education. Combine that with years of prejudice and discrimination from the dominant white population, it's easy to say that some blacks have quite a bit resentment towards those blacks who had better lives, thanks in part to their wealth, good education, and good homes. And not only that, there are some blacks who grew up in less than loving households that has been passed down to the next generations without any chance of breaking the cycle due to the common misdiagnosis and distrust from healthcare leaders like doctors and therapists, let alone the stigma that mental health has never mattered or was even a thing to speak about in the black community. But then there's also the stigma against the different shades of blackness, where lighter skinned black people are more desirable than the darker shades of black people, and that disgust and resentment has been passed down through the generations. And then there's the years of black music being stuffed down or put away due to being too loud, too inappropriate, too ghetto (it's true that some people still use that word to this day), and not fitting the perception of who and what blacks are in this country. So... It's only natural that there are groups of blacks who only understand the trauma, the struggles, and even the "why do I bother" band together and form groups, even cliques, to breathe life into the unspoken code of being black and causing further division and resentment towards those who they consider to be better than them because of their skin color being lighter, or having a good education, or being wealthy (whether that's through passed down wealth or through hard work building that wealth). And it's also only natural for them to believe, even accept, that blackness is only a monolith, and anyone who disagrees with that is not black or even not black enough. It's also ingrained into their cranium that there is no such thing as black joy, and all the years of distrust, racism, rape, using white people names instead of their own, not having proper medical care, abuse, and the overall perception of black people being lazy, unintelligent, violent, and worthless is all they're supposed to know and expected to be because of the unholy actions of slavery, acclimating with the general society, and the continued fear against blacks is the only thing that they should know. Because no matter how hard you work, no matter how big your dreams are, no matter your drive to want a better life for yourself and your future generations... There's always going to be that one person who doesn't want things to change or things to get better. They feel threatened by someone of a different skin color, or were told throughout history that black people need to be put in their place, or even kept in their place so that they don't get ahead because it would upend society as we know it. And that's the last thing they need if it means giving up their wealth, knowledge, and comfort. Are you starting to see my point? Generational trauma and giving into the perception of what blacks are expected to be after years of prejudice, racism, and discrimination can certainly do wonders for some black people. They've come to accept that they're lazy, they're no good, they're not smart, they're not worthy, and the only way to get through this world is to hold onto the trauma and the centuries of negative perceptions from others... And stick with those black people who somehow get it. Because others who are trying to move forward and live out their lives that isn't necessarily "black" are not worth their attention, not even their admiration for wanting a better life than just living through trauma. I was once told to "enjoy living on my plantation." For simply holding onto hope that things will get better and our ancestors not wanting us to live in the trauma for the rest of our lives. But I think the real people who are "living on the plantation" are the ones who give into the fear, the negative perceptions of black people, and are resigned to their fate. And choose not to fight back. Or give up. Or even embrace the negative perceptions of what most people think black people are and don't make an effort to be their own person. They don't make an effort to change, or to break the cycle of the generational trauma and mistreatment that was planted all those centuries ago. They only see the world through a black versus white lens, and not make an effort to try new things or ask questions or even fight back against years of prejudice and discrimination. Because all they've gotten is "no" and that is the only answer that will protect them and their loved ones. They believe that the only way to get love is through abuse, being loud, being out of control, and not make an effort to change or knock down the walls of the cycle of abuse because they wouldn't recognize themselves if they lives a life away from pain. They don't want to make an effort to work hard because of all of the times of being misunderstood and neglected took its toll and hard work will only make life harder for them, and it's already hard enough for them as it is. They believe that trauma and fear is the only way to live life. They believe that complaining and not making an effort to fix the problem together is the only way to get through life. They are resigned to their fate. They are living on the plantations of their trauma, brought on by centuries of fear, abuse, mistreatment, taking away their true identities and culture, and a resistance to change and accepting the world as beyond just black and white. You can't forget where you've come from, no matter what your skin color is... But that doesn't mean you have to live in the trauma from generations of pain all your life, either. Because those "plantations" you think some black people are living on for wanting a better life for themselves and doing things that brings them individual joy which isn't necessarily "black" aren't their "plantations" at all. They're yours. And they're stemmed in fear, resignation, trauma, unworthiness, and abuse. And sooner or later, those "plantations" will become your prisons in your mind and your heart if you don't break the cycle of generational trauma... And accept that blackness is not now, nor ever will be, a monolith. And that it's okay to be an individual, and not like the same things that blacks are expected to like or expected to be. And it's not just black people who need this reminder. It's ALL of us. (First of all, I'm not an expert on racial matters or identities, but as someone who is a black woman and grew up with the belief and feelings of unworthiness within her own race, these are my observations and reflections on growing up black. No matter what your skin color or ethnic identity is, you are welcome to disagree with me on anything I've said in this blog or my previous blogs. But I won't tolerate any hate speech, derogatory language, or divisive language from anyone, whether their white, black, or another race. We all have to learn to live with each other, and appreciate our differences. If you can't do a simple thing as that, I will block you.)

Blackness comes in all different shades and variations, but the one color that brings us all together is the rage from the over 450 years of racism, discrimination, and mistreatment we've experienced.

And as sad as it sounds, black on black racism exists. And it sometimes comes in the form of "black people don't do that..." Centuries of generational trauma and an unwillingness to break the patterns can do that. But also, fear has a way of making that phrase so common. If we get to experience joy, hope, and happiness away from the universal trauma black people have experienced and maybe have ever known in their lives, who are we then? If the idea of different shades, journeys, and individualities of blackness can make us move towards change, acceptance of everyone's difference in a beautiful way, and discoveries of the different paths black people take, who are we then? Some blacks can't afford to give up that trauma because they can't bear to lose a sense of who they are, just like some blacks can't fathom that individuality matters in their race, and that it's okay to live a life that is not universally black. Fear has a way of doing that, hence the phrase "black people don't do that..." My advice? Get out of your head, the plantation of your mind, as it were, and see the world for not only as it is, but what it could be. There's something beautiful seeing the different shades and lives of blackness that isn't all just one cohesive thing. We're never meant to have a shared common experience, especially if we were all raised in different places, communities, and lifestyles. Each life is on a different path to make a difference in their communities, families, and even for themselves, and it doesn't necessarily involve hanging onto the generational trauma or the abuse or even the fear. Yes, there are still some walls that need to be torn down, like the idea of black people not speaking clearly, or how sloppily some blacks dress or look for the job or for school, or even what a black person can or cannot do. Or even what they're expected to be or do in their lives based on years of those thoughts and ways of life being passed onto generations of U.S. citizens, especially from white people. But all the same, don't be resigned to your fate as to what blacks can or cannot do, or even be expected to do, know, or be. You can't be a copy of someone else, and that applies just as much to black people as it does to everyone else. Many people are born to do great things, or if they're just content with being ordinary, make all of your tasks and what you set your mind to do great or fantastic! But most of all, be proud of what you like to do and what brings you joy, even if the vast majority of people in your race or ethnic group may not go along with the program. The truth is, you can't really force people to see things your way if they're not willing to work on themselves and look past their own limitations. And that especially applies to some black people. I have seen countless black people do things that brings them joy and purpose that doesn't necessarily fit the mold: Like going ballroom dancing. Or salsa dancing. Like being an archeologist. Like enjoying cottagecore or wearing vintage outfits. Like going to cooking schools. Like attending ballet classes or recitals. Like learning to play an instrument that isn't a saxophone or horn or drums. Like being a mathematician. Like going to school for health and nutrition and dietetics. Like being a professional swimmer. Like being a professional fencer. Like going to Comic Con. Like being an animator at the major studios. Like being a vegan or vegetarian. Like being a professional dancer to Irish music. Like going to tea parties. Like reading Jane Austen or Mary Shelley or Shakespeare or the other classics. Like enjoying anime. Like teaching boys soft skills as opposed to hard skills. Like owning a bakery. Like being openly queer. Like being a producer on Broadway. Like being a photojournalist. Like going to Renaissance festivals... and dressing up! And so forth... It's okay to be yourself, especially in the black community. Or the Latin community. Or the Jewish community. Or the Asian and Pacific Islander community. Or the indigenous community. Not everyone will understand why you do the things that bring you joy, but that's not on you. That's on them. And they're the only ones who can do the work of being changed and transformed, if they are willing to do the hard work of doing those things. You have every capacity to give into love and breaking the cycle of generational trauma, and being proud of who you are. And you also have all the strength and courage to prove others wrong about what they expect you to be, driven by years of misguided principals and thoughts about being black. Don't stay on the plantations of limitation brought about by generational trauma and resignation. Open your eyes, mind, and heart to what you're capable of becoming. It will be hard, it will be challenging, and you will have doubts and you will feel like giving up. Don't give the naysayers that satisfaction. KEEP. GOING. It is okay to be an individual in your own race and culture, while also feeling the rage of centuries of mistreatment. But don't stay on those plantations, especially if it leaves you with far more limitations and apathy than the world needs right now. You are worth so much more than just being what a race or culture "expects" you to be. Be proud of who you are as an individual. Just be yourself! I know I am, or at least I'm finally starting to.