Wednesday, March 20, 2013

Five Things I Learned Being Black


There's an old saying “Everyone wants to be Black until the police show up.” For those that don't know, I'm Black. Yes, there's some other stuff tossed in there but according to everyone that sees me and the police I am an African American male. I prefer the term Blacker. Makes me sound dangerous. Now, me being Black is up for debate. Most of my life my “Blackness” has been called into question because of the way I dressed, talked, and behaved. I stopped fighting that battle years ago.

I’ve come up with a list of The Five Things I Learned Being Black. I already know that being Black means different things to different people and that each of us will probably have five different things but since I am Black and this is my blog I’ll write what I want. Stop oppressing me!

1. Police Don’t Like Me



I’ve spoken before how I was once held at gunpoint, three guns, by cops because they thought I was a bank robber. A few months before that I was stopped because I had a jacket on in the summer. Every night when I am coming home from work they slow down and stare at me. I am fully aware of what I look like, but its funny when they slow down to check out the Black guy with the shiny shoes and clean clothes when ten feet away there’s a White dude obviously tweaking balls.

I know that Black people and cops have, for lack of a better term, a strained relationship. Particularly in Los Angeles. I love talking to people and hearing them talk about how respected the cops are in New York when here if there is a cop funeral people get mad because traffic is diverted. Hell, when Christopher Dorner started killing cops and wrote allegations against him most people were on his side. The police don’t like me and I don’t like them so we’re even.

2. People Make Strong Assumptions



Big penis. Kids. Criminal record. Anger issues. Holding weed. Angry with White people. Great dancer. These are the types of things people assume when they see me. The penis thing maybe not so much but its not hard for me to prove whether that’s true or not. I’m such a manwhore. I’ve had people ask if I were married or have kids and when I respond that I do not they then think that I am gay. Call me gay because I paint my nails, not because I have decided not to have a kid in this unstable ass economy and then there’s the whole not having a woman thing which it turns out I need to have a kid.

I have had people ask me if I’ve ever been arrested like they’re asking for directions. It seems to be a very common assumption that if you're Black that at some point you were locked behind bars. Sorry to disappoint you all but I have never been in jail. My lifestyle does not lend itself to things like jail. When I leave the house I have destinations and none of them are the booty house. I'm proud that I am in my mid 30's and have never been asked to spread my cheeks and lift my sack...unwillingly.

I grew up in South Central L.A and saw some crazy shit and experienced it. Somehow it didn't turn me into what is stereotypically depicted as a guy from L.A that is a gang member and talks like a dumbass. Yes, I have moments that are very South Central but they last just that: a moment. A small spark will appear and I'll extinguish it before it becomes a blaze. That's how riots start. Speaking of crime.

3. I'm Not Gonna Rob You



This one is annoying because it happens almost every time I leave the house. I'm just heading to the store to get some kale and orange juice or to cash a check. I need to get past someone because everyone moves too goddamn slow for me. Now, I like to make sure people hear me approaching on the streets. This doesn't count for when I am trying to scare some texting while walking. That's just pure fun. But I will drag my feet, make my bag or whatever make a sound, just something to alert them that someone is near and wants to pass. I'll be damned if they don't turn around as if I am waving a gun in the air! Or they like to spot a piece of dirt on the ground and clutch their bag as I pass them. This makes me want to do bad, by the way.

For anyone saying I look dangerous walking down the street you're part of the problem! Let's use another example. Let's forget that a 6 foot 1 Black guy is quietly walking behind you. How about when I am walking towards someone? There is nothing like looking up and seeing someone eye you as if you're about to attack them. I'm literally minding my business but now I do want to attack. I want to just stomp my foot or scream. Anything to make their fear real. But I don't because I like to pretend I'm civilized.

In all seriousness it really isn't fun having people afraid of you before you've even opened your mouth. I've had people afraid to sit next to me on the bus, cross streets and damn near get hit by cars, and clutch their purse or children as if I'm beating my chest and ready to fling poo. I'm sure there have been plenty of altercations started just because someone did that shit. Its not as fun as you'd think having strangers terrified of you.

4. I Am A Type



Pretty sure I've mentioned this one before, but its not fun for someone to tell me “My friend is really into Black guys!” I don't care. That statement doesn't make me say “Well, shit! Thank god I happen to be that! Now I can fuck her!” Just say they like my goofy ass. I'm into every girl...in my head. Hi-yo! I don't see how someone can pick one race and say “This is all I like!” That seems so weird to me. So when someone tells me that their friends are into me I wonder “As opposed to what?” Would they ever say to my face “Er, no. I don't like guys with your skin tone”?

I know what type of Black guy chicks are into when they are into them. Sorry, ladies. That's not me. If you are expecting some street wise roughneck that throws the n-word around and will take you on a trip through the 'hood, you're sadly mistaken. I'm more likely to smoke a ham than a muthafucka set trippin'. I am not and will never be a thug. I'm a 4 out of 10 that loves staying at home and talking to friends. The only way I'll be dangerous is if you trip and land on the knives scattered around my apartment. Sound sexy? Give me a call.

5. Its Not As Fun As It Looks


I have heard a lot of people say “I wish I were Black!” Usually so they can drop n-bombs or be “cool.” I blow the whole being cool and Black thing right out of the water so there's that. Being Black is about as fun as it is not. It evens itself out. One thing that sucks is family history. There are some Black families that can trace their lineage for more than 200 years. I can go back just over a hundred and that's it. They have those DNA tests you can do and they say “Your ancestors were from Ghana!” Uh, gee. Thanks?

Besides the whole having people scared of you, cops wanting to shoot you, and fighting for employment, there's the whole health issues that come along with it. There's the diabetes, heart attacks, high blood pressure, bullets...its not cool. All of those are things in my family by the way.

I know that at times it looks really fun to be Black. And it is. It totally rules...sometimes. The highs are great but the lows can honestly be deadly. Even though its 2013 Black people go through a lot of stupid shit you'd think we wouldn't have to. “But we have a Black president!” And? Ask me if that made my life any better. If anything that son of a bitch raised the bar too high! I'm kidding. But totally not.

Click here for previous Five Things I Learned.

2 comments:

Hoozle said...

Funny how assumptions about race can be country-specific. I'm often surprised when we're talking and you mention some stereotype about Americans who are Black. Some of them are the same here in Ireland/Europe of course but some of the American ones are just bizarre to me.

I really laughed, sadly, at your inclusion of bullets as being one of the natural causes of early death in Black people...

Dante said...

Racial things are just so damned bizarre to me. You'd think that by now knowing what we know about humans and such that we'd just go "Wow. I hated someone because what holds their insides in was different than mine."

And at one time I had a cousin who could claim along with his girlfriend that they had both been shot.