BECAUSE BLACK WOMEN DESERVE REPRESENTATION AND NOT FETISHIZATION
You, your eyes and your skin and your hair black as the velvety fabric of space and time - you’re an apparition. An angel. You came from the sky clothed in dark matter, your head held high as you fell into the veins of light below. You can’t shake the stardust from the cloud that is your hair - and why would you want to?
Skin like topaz and hazel eyes like petrified amber and spring leaves and your waterfall of curls - you’re a forest spirit who wandered her way into this strange neon city. And when they look at you, they know - they just don’t know that they know.
Black woman, you inventor. You scientist. You witch walking that knife’s edge between day and night, between this world and the next. You’re crazy and you’re brilliant and your smile is dazzling. Alchemist. Fae. Poet. Pianist. Spirit from Elsewhere catching fireflies. You’re the voice in the choir and the voice on the subway and your voice must be heard.
You deserve to see yourself slaying dragons on the silver screen.
Your daughters deserve to be the Chosen Ones in their favorite novels.
Because she can be an astronaut.
Because she wants to be a princess, too.
Because she deserves to see another black girl who loves algebra and physics on TV.
Because you’re not a white man’s fetish. Because your skin isn’t “chocolate” and because you’re not “exotic.”
Because you deserve better.






















