Melanin v.s. Melanin
This summer was a trying one. Black men got shot like shit was target practice. In the midst of our peaceful protests Police get the same in return. So with #AltonSterling and #PhilandoCastile freshly residing within my heart and mind I registered for my fall semester of school promising myself that regardless of all the failed attempts to transfer to Clark Atlanta University I wouldn’t give up on my education. It’s hard being pro-black in San Diego, CA where the only black people you see are in church who love you until you sing too loud o the microphone.. Or in Spin City night club on the first Friday of every month doing pelvic thrusts up on the next military man knowing his wife who traveled with him all the way from the south so he could serve his country done found himself a southern California mistress, is at home waiting for him. Thrusting pelvises on each other in the back of the club... the back of his car. That’s where you’ll find us. You might even find us on El Cajon Blvd in North Park chanting “no justice , no peace” but you’ll only find about 10 of us there.
I’m in my second week of the fall semester. I’m focused and ready to go. I’m gunning for a 4.0, no mercy and no excuses. All while strutting around campus with my heat-less curls wrapped in Kente cloth, my “All Black” t-shirt on and bumping Freedom by Pharrell in my ears to keep me going. What’s even better is I notice how there is more African American students on campus than there was last Fall semester. My mind begins to wander about why there’s so many black students on a campus in a predominantly middle eastern part of town. But I didn’t care! As long as we were being educated I basked in our glory. For apart of me felt as though I was in Timbuktu at the first prestigious Universities filled with ethnic people all through out Africa. But today my black life that mattered was shattered as I turned the corner and saw the most gorgeous Queen of fair skin, curly hair pulled in a bun, and emerald green eyes looking like she was about to go audition for Rick Ross’ newest video. She strutted around the corner glaring at me as I smiled at her. Not realizing that she was wearing a halter tank top with denim booty shorts on. In that moment I wondered “What are you here for?!”, “Do Black lives really matter to you?”,” Do you understand how we look as a unit?” I can take ignorance however, I’m beginning to feel like that is more of an excuse now versus an actually conclusion. I go to school to excersice my brain, to empower myself, to learn something new about the cards I was dealt each, and every day....and here you are Queen... the unfortunate reminder that some of us....most of us....could care less about our own lives. “Don’t show too much...Give the boys something to think about...” I could see the competition in her eyes. I was her competition...
Me....
... dressed down and no makeup.
But I was rooting for her as soon as I saw her olive skin.
Today I was discouraged...just a bit.
