She ain’t never lie Y’all. I watched her on the plane ride from LA and I must say that kind of made me look at her much different, in a good way. She is taking up her space and she is reclaiming all of our time. I am not a fan and I totally understand the power of fandoms. She might not be popular by popular demand, but homegirl is clicking on a lot of the things we feel inside and not really sure how to even process. Her stand up highlighted so many of the issues facing young Millennial Black American women, like myself and a lot of our Swag readers. I thought it would be a good idea to dissect a little deeper into some of the topics she touched upon.
When you grow up with White friends, you kind of feel like you has a hold on White America.
I find this statement more true in 2019 as far as inclusivity. Seales talked about being the token Black female friend back in High School. Is it a bad thing to be that one Black friend? I doubt it. President Obama was half White and everyone tried to look past that aspect. Coming to one solution from multiple colored-lens will surely help make America great like it already can be, again. She explained that there are two types of White Americans. White Americans, and then people who happen to be White. She explained how privilege can cut like a double edge sword. There are many who have opened doors for her and has given her space to be seen and heard. It was the first time in a long time the race conversation became something very real to me and relatable at the same time.
Code swapping in White environments.
Bye Lindsay! Instead of Bye Felicia because there were no Felicia’s in any of my college classrooms. I attended an all-White private school in the richest neighborhood in America. Brooksville, NY if you need to cross-check. Seales a fellow academic, graduated from Columbia Uni with a degree concentrated in Afro-American culture. To be seen as a successful Black American you must master the art of the swap. Yeah. We change how we want to come off versus fighting a stereotype that precedes us. Literally, we go high when they go low without letting them know we’re looking down on them, yes them as White people, which I started referring too as Europeans. A lot of Europeans are so stuck on privilege that they do not know what is insulting and what is a compliment, to us. But, no shade no tea we understand as the previously enslaved population that they really don’t know any other way. They are afraid of us. When one of us enters a space that was White-Only, it sends a shockwave throughout everything they believed about the Black American. Hello Serena, What’s Good Tiger. They were born to swap. Golf and Tennis had always been a White man’s game. Until we changed it. Cue Lil Kim, “If I was you I’d hate me too”.
The Black Hair Issue
Girl, please don’t touch my hair! For all my natural sisters working corporate jobs, I feel you. It’s nothing like snatching off the wig at the end of the day when you’re with your man or your peoples. You remember that one day you went in, au natural? Becky was really impressed and tried to touch it in the ladies room. Just chill Bec, don’t touch my hair. It’s like this thing that only we understand, there is power in our textures. I love the “European” women who admire from afar but with this crazed look like they are not sure if we are trying to be a field Nigger or just imitating Lauryn Hill. I especially like the museum version when they come up and actually ask “Can I touch your hair?!?” like it’s apart of some exhibit. SMH. It happens to the best of us, it happens to the worst of us. Just understand sis, she doesn’t know any better.
Remembering The Black National Anthem- I did you one better I’m closing off with the lyrics.
Lift every voice and sing
Till earth and heaven ring
Ring with the harmonies of Liberty;
let our rejoicing rise,
high as the list’ning skies, let it resound loud as the rolling sea
sing a song full of faith that the dark past has tought us,
sing a song full of the hope that the present has brought us;
facing the rising sun of our new day begun,
let us march on till victory is won.
Stony the road we trod,
bitter the chast’ning rod,
felt in the day that hope unborn had died;
yet with a steady beat,
have not our weary feet,
come to the place on witch our fathers sighed?
we have come over a way that with tears has been watered,
we have come, treading our path through the blood of the slaughtered,
out from the gloomy past, till now we stand at last
where the white gleam of our star is cast.
God of our weary years,
God of our silent tears,
thou who has brought us thus far on the way;
thou who has by thy might,
led us into the light,
keep us forever in the path, we pray
lest our feet stray frm the places, our God, where we met thee,
least our hearts, drunk with the wine of the world, we forget thee,
shadowed beneath the hand,
may we forever stand,
tru to our God,
Tru to our native land.