#BlackExperience

Today on Twitter, I started a hashtag. I didn't think anything big would become of it nor was I expecting a huge response. Boy was I wrong. 

#BlackExperience was that hashtag. 

Those of you reading this who are people of color know what #BlackExperience is. #BlackExperience is that series of defining moments that remind you that you aren't the same as "them", with "them" being white people.

My white friends, if you're reading this and it makes you uncomfortable, good. You NEED to make yourself uncomfortable to understand what the #BlackExperience is. It's definitely not comfort for people of color. #BlackExperience is living in a state of discomfort for so long that we don't know what "comfort" feels like. In some cases, that #BlackExperience comes so early in our lives that we never know what comfort feels like. 

What exactly is #BlackExperience you ask? #BlackExperience is the story of the first time you were called a n*gger. It's the first time you experienced racism from white people, likely being under the age of 10. #BlackExperience is what you go through daily in your predominately white work place. It's having racial epithets yelled at you by passers-by while you wait on the bus stop. 

Frankly stated, #BlackExperience are those daily occurrences black people have experienced since before we could even speak that remind us that we're black. 

On Twitter today, I asked people to share three things: "When was the first time you were called n*gger? When was the LAST time you were called n*gger? When was the last time you experienced blatant racism?" The answers, both in quality and quantity, blew me away. 

Some people experienced being called a n*gger as young as age five. For some, their first time being called a n*gger was by a teacher or person of authority. And for some others, they told stories of being called n*gger leading to physical violence. 

The story that broke my heart most was of someone who had their skin clawed at by a little white boy because he wanted to "scratch the black off." These stories were the catalyst for me starting the hashtag #BlackExperience. 

I want the hashtag to be a meeting place where we feel comfortable enough to share our feelings and thoughts regarding our racist interactions with non-people of color, as well as a well-spring of knowledge and learning for white allies and potential white allies to assist them in checking their privilege. I don't expect the conversations taking place under the hashtag #BlackExperience to change the world, but if they've changed one mind...opened one set of eyes, I feel good about it. 

My plan is to continue having these conversations about the #BlackExperience on my Twitter timeline, while possibly bringing the conversation to my Facebook timeline as well. I'd like to make this a weekly conversation where I ask prompt questions to get the discussion going. If nothing becomes of this? That's fine. But I'd like to try. 

Sister Assats Shakur said "It is our duty to fight for freedom. It is our duty to win. We must love and support each other. We have nothing to lose but our chains." It is my duty to be steadfast after the freedom of people who look like me. 

Let's start that discussion. 

When was the first time you were called a n*gger? Share your experiences in the comments below. 

When Will Black Men Stand Up For Our Black Women?

(This was originally a conversation on my twitter page. See here for a link to the posts.)

So...I have a blog in my heart I need to get out. The topic is how we as black men support our black women.

So when it comes to standing up for/beside/behind black men, women step up to the plate every time.Black men? We don't. And that makes me ashamed man. Why can't we be better about that? We have to be. 

Frankly, as black men we all should be ashamed at the collective effort to support our black women.You know how rough they have it? They are black AND women. Double whammy. Twitter is a perfect microcosm of what goes on in the real world. Black men stand by while our black women are drug through the mud. And I know this is a highly debated topic, but patriarchy is a big cause if this.

We've got to be better, myself included. It starts with standing up for our black women against other black men. So many black men are conditioned to mistreat black women to the point they are conditioned to accept it. Sad state of affairs.

It's...depressing.

Yet our black women are there right behind us...supporting us nonetheless. Take care of home. Black women are home. And we are leaving that house to fend for itself. I've spent so much time looking and analyzing...shaking my head and observing. I've pushed and supported the black women in MY life. I can and should be doing more.

Black women are out here putting their neck on the line in support of us. We may not be the ones cutting them off, but we damn sure sharpen the tool. And who is holding black men accountable? No one. When we should be self-policing. We outchea just standing by. When has that ever created change?!

Just...be better. And encourage other black women around you to be better. If enough of us start supporting our black women, standing up for our black women, it'll become contagious. There are not enough black men out here standing up. Black women do it all the time and it seems to fall on deaf ears. Maybe if more black men talk about it the message will come across.

As always...black women, you all are so damn wonderful. Know that.

Y'all be easy.

My Love Letter to Black Women

I was recently tasked by a Twitter friend to write a love letter to black women. I've actually been putting off writing this because I wasn't sure exactly what to say. It's not that I have nothing to say, it's that so much comes to mind that it's kind of hard to sort it all out. There's so much TO BE said, but I don't want to drone on and on. So...here goes. Nothing long...

Dear BW,

You are the most amazing of God's creations to me. Daily I see examples of women exuding the purest form of many adjectives we assign to people: beauty, strength, power, resilience. To me, you are the walking example of how God intended for woman to be; you're a walking example of those adjectives.

It saddens me that the world doesn't see you the same. The world sees beauty as Jennifer Aniston. The world sees power as Hillary Clinton. The world paints the black woman as ugly, irate, angry, needy, and undesirable. What's even sadder, is not only when black men start to believe this of black women, but when black women start to believe this of themselves.

Iyanla Vanzant once said, "Everything that happens to you is a reflection of what you believe about yourself. We cannot outperform our level of self-esteem. We cannot draw to ourselves more than we think we are worth."

It's up to all of us to reaffirm your awesomeness. To let you AND the world know beyond the shadow of a doubt that you are incomparable. So this is my pledge to you. I pledge to tell you that you are beautiful when the world decides you aren't. I pledge to be your support when the world has tried to knock you down a notch. I pledge to be a voice when the world tries to silence yours. And I pledge to fight for and with you. And when I'm lucky enough to be blessed with one of you as a life partner? I pledge to never take that for granted. I firmly believe that nobody loves another like a black woman loves a black man.

"We cannot draw to ourselves more than we think we are worth."

Together, the possibilities are endless and infinite. You are beautiful. You are strong. You are powerful. You are resilient. You are a beautiful black woman.

Love,

~Noble