Tag Archives: self-esteem

Black Blue

Your skin, the perfect shade of

perfect

I like it

when it glistens in the sun too

But I love it

When its that dark black blue hue

but do you love your black blue too?

They called you black

and all the other kids laughed

and made you feel

inferior

but the joke is on them when

our own folk pretend that

their hate is your hate

Because they hate their own skin

To begin with

Your blue black has endured

the many evils of

this world tenfold

And yet and still, it upholds

Soft as cotton, bright as pure gold

not that bright like artificial light

but that dark and natural and brilliant type

like the best night of my life

When we fell in love

The type of night that make you wanna

sleep outside because

Only on the darkest night

Can you see all of the stars and

All of the sky

I want you

And your black blue too

But I need you

To love it

And love it fiercely

As I do.

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Perspective

student-vector-drawing-girl-preparing-exam-43417706

This piece is dedicated to the children who have lost their lives to school.

It’s not even worth it. I’m not gonna walk down the 10th grade hall. She’s gonna find me if I do. I hate that feeling when we lock eyes. I hate that she and her friends sense my fear, like a ferocious pit bull out for a kill. Being here is hard. Sometimes, I wish she weren’t here. Sometimes, I wish I wasn’t here. I’ve tried to not be here last year, and 6 months ago and just 2 weeks ago. Momma says my skin ain’t thick enough, but time after time, the knife says otherwise, because unfortunately, I’m still here.

I’m

still

here

Here we go again with these bad ass girls. They’re one in the same. They wanna fight. They wanna challenge authority. They wanna be “bad bitches.” Don’t give me that ADHD-special ed.- mental health bullshit either. If my history class was about slingin’ on the corner or where to buy the best Malaysian hair, they’d be all ears. They know how to steal from the corner store. They know how to open up their legs. Thinkin’ they know everything. Too bad they don’t know they ain’t gonna amount to not a thing. Give them what they want. If they don’t care, I don’t care.

I

don’t

care

I don’t care about nothin’ else but him. My momma don’t want me. My daddy don’t want me. He’s all I got and I’ll be damned if I let this little hot-in-the-pants freshman take him away from me. I hate that feeling when they lock eyes. I hate the way he lights up every time she walks by him. When he approaches her, it sets my soul ablaze in the worst way. Take, take, take. That’s all everyone does around here. My grandfather took my virginity. My foster father took taking my dignity a step farther that one day when he…One day. I’m gonna take from this world as much or even more than it has taken from me!

It’s not even worth it but the knife says otherwise I’m gonna take from this world it sets my soul ablaze in the worst way.

Let’s all take the time to talk to our children and other children we know. Let’s also take the time to read up on and acknowledge the effects of bullying, abuse, low self-esteem and mental illness on our youth.

What you see isn’t always what you get.

Rest in peace Amy Francis-Joyner.

Black People Don’t Tip (2014)

tipforsite

Picture this:

You and some friends or family go out to eat for dinner. After waiting for a table for however long, your party is called for the next available one. You are finally seated. Your throat is parched and you and the people you’re with are all ready to put those drink orders in. You look around at the waiters and the waitresses scurrying about, wondering which one will be taking care of you for the evening.

Five minutes pass, you start to look at your watch. You have somewhere to be after dinner, but you’re certain this meal won’t interfere with your plans. Ten minutes go by, still no waitress or waiter and the people that came in after you already have drinks and are about to place their food orders.

More time passes without any service. “Did they forget about us?” you wonder, even amidst the here and again eye contact some of the wait staff makes with you and your party. And amidst the laughter and jovial atmosphere of the restaurant, a half-enthused waitress with a fake smile dishes out the fakest greeting to your table. She takes your drink orders and goes into the back.

Several minutes later, you get your drinks and as you ask questions about the menu, her artificial smiles starts to fade and her she-can-take-you-or-leave-you attitude sets in. You’re ready to tell her a thing or two (if you know what I mean), but you don’t want to get ghetto and loud in the restaurant. You look over to your right, and the family that came in 2 parties after you is finishing their meal.

“If this food don’t come in the next few minutes, I’m going to miss out on my plans,” you think to yourself. You look around and see the other waiters and waitresses engaging in conversation with customers at other tables, looking lively and happy to serve. Your waitress is one of them. You look up and your food is (finally) at your table.

You eat in a hurry, trying to stay on your schedule for the night. You notice your mashed potatoes are a little cold. The manager is going up to each table, asking customers about their food and their experience. You wonder if you’ll literally be able to voice your complaint about your cold food, because your mouth is so dry. After all, your waitress never gave you a refill on your drink.

The manager walks by, skips your table, and asks the next table about their dining experience. You hear glasses clanging from the refills of other tables and as you look down at the ice melting in your empty cup, and as you begin to realize that the establishment has not deemed you a priority, the check is dropped onto the table.

Now you tell me, what’s that tip supposed to look like?

Often, black people are assumed to be non-tippers and are treated accordingly before they even get to the table…heck, before they arrive at the restaurant — which often translates to no treatment at all.

Numbers don’t lie, but they don’t tell the whole story.

(2014; from the TBTB archives)

Livin’

livin PIC EDIT
He does whatever he wants and carelessly spreads his seeds
Tumbleweed the way he rolls around bed to bed, town to town as he please
But he don’t care, kids here kids there kids everywhere, animalistic breeding is in season
He thinks he’s on TOP, he ain’t gonna ever stop…and think to think he has no reason

Look at him, he’s the man, he got it goin on, he’s that guy with all those women runnin after him…
Givin no real value to the lives he’s bringing in…this world…and he really thinks he livin’

She is content when she gets her ends from the men
The different baby daddies that fathered her different children and
even though she’s left building up the kids’ home all alone
She picks up that phone no matter where the men roam, for the money for the school clothes…for the Air Jordans…for the Nike Foams


Her kids get to floss, she thinks she’s a boss…not giving a damn about the costs of a family spent from being bought
The men are forgiven for the wrongs done on her kids…and as long as she’s spendin’ with the little they givin’…she livin’

He sees his momma struggle and fight to keep the ship tight
but he thinks she’s supposed to do it, ain’t nothin to it, she’ll be alright
She just has herself cuz she don’t need no help
When WIC is their health and food stamps are their wealth

When the tumbleweed’s seed grows a tumbleweed tree
The cycle continues, what a sight it is to see
Oh the plight it is to be the seed falling down beneath
You can’t help but ask yourself…are you livin’ when you breathe?

Reflections

“Sending love to all the girls out there trying to love themselves in a world that’s constantly telling them not to.” — Quinta Brunson (via Twitter)

reflections pic

Reflections

Butt injections

Pills that promise a smaller size

Surgeries to shrink stomachs, minimize thighs and straighten slanted eyes

The tangled web we weave

When what we see in the mirror don’t look like tv

Infections

Undetected

When the blood boils and burns to the bone

With foreign bodies like plastic, fix-a-flat and silicone

How looks can be deceiving

When the body we’d kill for kills us while we’re sleeping

Affection

It’s what’s expected

Because imitation is the new expectation

Self-hate for the love of our butts, our breasts and our pigmentation

The challenge of truth…being true to ourselves

When the reflection in the mirror mirrors plastic itself

For Lyric

My niece is experiencing some discrimination in the county schools here in Richmond, Virginia. The other day, a teacher told her that she won’t amount to anything. I’m taking this time to tell her quite the contrary.

black girl writing

Source: Blerdy (Pinterest)

It’s been said but it hasn’t been finished.

“You won’t amount to anything” she boldly insisted.

Her words so vile, her mind so twisted

And she’s so sure and I’m so livid…because she doesn’t know what your black is.

I wish your teacher would have never said those words

I know that pain and I know that hurt

But you know yourself and you know your worth

And you know what makes a diamond — the pressure and the dirt

But you’re HURT.

But your black maintains.

It’s used to the pain, it’s used to the rain

Your black is resilient. It never backs down.

But heavy is the head that wears the crown.

Your head may be heavy, but your brain is intact

Remember her words and watch your back

Stay in your books but don’t be timid

Although it’s been said, it hasn’t been finished

For the Ladies: “Her Brown Body”

woman looking in mirror EDIT
 by Kiara Lee
Her brown body – rich in history and in melanin, endowed with girth
Surrounded by infatuation and contemplation, yet still, devoid of worth
Fingers point at her in the streets, eyes stare at her with thoughts under sheets,
A soul so tender, a soul so sweet, reduced to nothing…nothing more than a piece of meat.
Her Brown Body
But she likes it, it’s the only attention she really gets and attention is really her only wish
All eyes are on her, this — this is only as good as it’s ever gonna get
She does everything under the sun thinking, she’s thinking that she’ll find the one and she’s
Devaluing herself and her plan is to sell her body and her soul to a man
Her Brown Body
Society teaches her everything she should know
How to treat him like a king, how to let him treat her like a hoe
Her brown body accepts it because…her brown body feels neglected
If she’s not treated this way, because somewhere along the line, she forgot what respect is…
 Her Brown Body
Oh how dignified she should be and how tall she should stand
Because back in the day, her brown body was an exhibit, just look at Sarah Baartman
A South African slave, her body parts were put on display, European men made her dance butt naked ball and chain and in a cage
The twerking and the clapping of today ain’t nothin’ new they say…it was FORCED on her brown body back in those days…
 Well today, her brown body is just the same
Playing HERSELF cheap this time, all pain, no gain
A queen caged and ashamed, too afraid to let her true royalty reign
Exploited and displayed, a new age slave chained to an age old game
Her Brown Body
Her Brown Body — all hurt and no worth
A list of insecurities as long as her weave, her love for self as short as her skirt
Beautiful brown skin and a beautiful spirit within — things to adore
or things to deplore, an all-out war, where only a MAN can even out the score.