I have something to say! Although Sandra Bland’s autopsy ruled out no sign of suicide, I must offer an alternative perspective. We were so quick to dismiss suicide. Why? Because of the black woman super woman complex. That black women are so strong bearing the weight of the world, that they’re the back bone of families, buttered and provider to all. That we are SO STRONG & UNBREAKABLE … As we are expected to be… But do u see the problem here? The stresses and expectations set upon us. It can wear you down! We get tired and it’s ok to break down and be broken! Where’s the balance? Sandy Girl I know you were tired and broken and that is okay too! May you rest in peace!
Funny thing is that everyone keeps questioning what type of imminent threat she could’ve possibly presented to have compelled the officer to escalate in that way, as she had no physical weapon or action of assault against him, but she had the mightiest weapon of them all. She presented herself as an educated, well informed, & intelligent black woman. In his eyes she was ARMED & DANGEROUS! Now think about that! It’s not guns and machines. It’s Knowledge… To think I could be arrested & dead consequently for being black and educated that scares me. It’s hysterical -That I’m the one to be feared… But this has been such a profound inquiry! That I am feared- a force to be reckoned with! … What a beautiful nightmare 😐
Now Some of you won’t understand, but this one hit home for me. This could reaaaaaaallly be me, my mother, aunts, cousins, or closest friends. There are so many similar characteristics/ traits / circumstances between she and I that it scares me. I know my rights & I would’ve done everything she did in this same situation. Exercising my rights (& Yall know I’m a pistol)…
About two months ago An officer was flirting at me at a light. I disengaged as I wasn’t interested. He pulled up next to me again at another light and I rolled my eyes. So by consequence he tail gated for a few blocks then turned on his sirens and signaled for me pull over. He pulled up next to me made eye contact with a stern face & then laughed in my face. I was terrified like what the heck did I do. He drove off. I got so angry… But whatever!
I have a break light with a broken fuse that I’ve paid to be fixed 3x already! God forbid an officer pulls me over for this and this happens. I keep thinking of the odds of this happening but in reality there hardly are any. This is happening ordinarily. It’s like an open season on blackness! Racism and police brutality are at the forefront and has been a steady source of economic profit in America. Think about that for what it is- my BLACKNESS Is profitable but Hardly for my own good!
#CaniLive #SANDYspeaks #iSpeak #SayHerName #SayMineToo #SandraBland #KimberleeKing #KindraChapman #iAmSandraBland #SandyBland
To my superwomen & supermen, have you ever gone by that saying? – that – “God won’t put more on my plate than what I can bare.” Certainly, you have, but I hope you’re also asking yourself whether He put it there in the 1st place! Too often we use this idiom to justify a vast majority of “multitasking” we habitually find ourselves in. We like to be saviors and superheroes saving the day. Many of us carry the weight of the world & a pathology that deduces that “well if it’s here on my plate then God must have put it there” but my darlings, that’s not always the case. There are some things that God put there for you and there are others which are disguised distractions. Learn to wean the distractions out. Know your plate. Know your portions and know which ones to push away. Discernment is key. How clear is your vision?
“Falling in love with yourself 1st does not make you vain or selfish. It makes you indestructible.”
Granted Valentine’s Day, is a rather socially superficial holiday. However my hope is that in the essence of love of that you take advantage of the hyperawareness of love of Valentine’s Day and orient that overwhelming love and awareness towards yourself! You are the most deserving of your own energy and attention. Before you can ever truly connect or simply acknowledge another person you must first acknowledge yourself. You are worth loving & knowing, and no one can love you, or desire you, or work on you, as passionately as you can – for yourself. So love on to every aspect of you…The light and the dark. Acknowledging the complexity of your good and bad makes you all the more beautiful and strong. Remember that in order for the light to shine so brightly that there has to be darkness & that this recognization and tuning into is due to you. So this is me advocating for you- so that you would take advantage of the day- so that super strong energy of hate and aggravation is manifested into something more beautiful and valuable. I’m not disclaiming how annoying the day can be- especially the superficiality. I definitely understand your sentiment; but channel that energy towards yourself in a more conducive way that will actually do you some good. Why expend your energy on someone or something else when you can be spending it on loving you!?? Think about that. I love you all✨🔥😻😽💫
Never be lazy about your feelings. If you feel them, then explore them! Try and tuck them away if you want to & They’ll be your worse nightmares… So what’s more frightening – the conditional fright of facing and feeling what you’re uncertain of or disabling yourself into emotional paralysis, where you force yourself to feel nothing at all? …. I am sensationally passionate and sometimes hypersensitive, but that’s how I know I’m alive. I might overthink something but I’ll never “over feel” because There’s no such thing. My feelings are uncapped and what I feel is valid. This is a superpower and “in my feelings” is honestly the best place for me to be! Just my thoughts.
Originally posted on Black Space:
We are Black professors.
We are daughters, sons, brothers, sisters, cousins, nieces, nephews, godchildren, grandfathers, grandmothers, fathers, and mothers.
We’re writing to tell you we see you and hear you.
We know the stories of dolls hanging by nooses, nigger written on dry erase boards and walls, stories of nigger said casually at parties by White students too drunk to know their own names but who know their place well enough to know nothing will happen if they call you out your name, stories of nigger said stone sober, stories of them calling you nigger using every other word except what they really mean to call you, stories of you having to explain your experience in classrooms—your language, your dress, your hair, your music, your skin—yourself, of you having to fight for all…
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