Hard In The Paint

via The Beautiful Struggler - Me, Myself and Eye

I have an alter ego that I cannot control, did not create. Actually, it's more like a caricature of myself that exists in the minds of some and I don't think it's fair. She isn't really me, even though she speaks the same way, thinks the same thoughts. She is the monster who exists in the minds of those who turn deaf ears to honest words, those who are decidedly blind to that which may shatter their well-appointed rose colored glasses.

Name: Angry Black Woman.
Aliases: "Annoying Bitch", "Another F*cking Feminist"
Charged With: attacking Black men, being "angry" and "bitter", perpetual oversensitivity, unmitigated gall to express one's opinion

When you speak words that you know represent the thoughts and feelings of many who are themselves afraid or unable to express them, you tend to speak louder. You try to channel the vocal power of many through the tongue of one. When you speak loudly in ways that challenge the comfort of people, they lash out at you to mask their inability to engage or understand. People develop crafty tactics for diffusing attacks to their privilege or ignorance or both. Common one used against me: cast the opponent as "crazy" or "bitter" or "angry".

When did we lose the right to anger? When did anger become some trait assigned to the irrational? Haven't all revolutions and movements been fueled by not simply love for the oppressed, but anger at the problem at hand? And why is it that people trivialize indignation, dissatisfaction, concern and write it of as "anger"? Why is it that Black women who express their anger publicly must become ANGRY BLACK WOMAN, instead of Woman With Strong Opinion? Why do Black men (and even some Black women) attack sisters who attack sexism the same way that White people attack Black people who challenge racism?

Like many women, I have taken a deep interest in supporting Black men and boys. On my bookshelf, you will find "The Assassination of the Black Male Image", "Black Men: Single, Obsolete, Dangerous?", "The Reconstruction of the African American Male" and other books designed to take a critical look at the problems facing our men. Throughout my time as an educational professional, I have given sometimes undue time and praise to my male students, trying to counteract the forces that seek to do them harm.

And yet, there are a number of "educated" and "enlightened" brothers who feel the need to constantly challenge both my need and my ability to express my feelings of discontent about the way in which Black women are treated by Black men. These men rarely ask "How do you feel>", " I'm sorry that you feel that way", or even "I may not understand or share your feelings, but I respect your ability to have them". I get disrespected and patronized and called "angry" and "bitter". Laughably, I get asked "You talking about the brothers again?" Um, I'm a feminist scribe. I talk about gender politics constantly. If you don't like it, leave it. Unfriend, unfollow, unscribe, delete my number. Won't hurt me at all, promise.

Actually, that is a lie. It does hurt. It hurts knowing the genuine disinterest and unwillingness to understand Black female pain that so many brothers have. I'm not talking about the masses, I am talking about those writers, pundits and thinkers who truly believe that they have the best interests of the community at heart and yet have little to no understanding of what the sisters go through. The men who blindly equate Black power and Black struggle with Black malenesss and never stop to ponder the person sitting on the other side of the table.

And I resent the sisters who stay silent in these matters, despite feeling as passionate as I do about Black misogyny. Not those who don't agree or who don't understand or who, perhaps, cannot articulate these feelings. But rather, those who do not want to be bogged down with the Angry Black Woman reputation. Those who rather be accepted by Black men. Now if you have a strategy to your silence and feel that you are effectively positioning yourself for action, rock on. There are many tactics needed in a large scale war. But if you hold your tongue so that someone may hold your body, shame on you. "Sister."

And so I often walk away from debates with close minded Black men initially feeling like a winner. Proud of my ability to block verbal jabs and think on my feet. Impressed with my refusal to back down at even a large scale attack. Cocky, because I can't help but to notice that I am a little smarter than some of the folks who try to come at me.

And then I realize that when you are arguing with a brick wall, there is no real winner. When it comes to discussing an issue so important to my heart, I'm not debating to see who's the smartest. I'm trying to convert sexists into supporters. I'm trying to save the Black community. And I'm walking away as ANGRY BLACK WOMAN in some folks heads because I don't sugar coat or dumb down my message for intelligent, otherwise reasonable people. Sue me.

So whilst I win the the intellectual battles, so far as I can see, the war rages on. You can't cuddle with righteous indignation at night, cannot start a family with justifiable rage. Perhaps I should invest in a mask that grins and lies to hide my cheeks and shade my eyes. Perhaps I should hide my real feelings and resign from the battle that I often fight alone or with a small army for the better of the masses. I'm 24 and I am tired of fighting for people who don't always deserve it. Who chose to bask in their pathologies rather than challenge them. My ANGRY BLACK WOMAN reputation will wither and die in time and I will have an easier path to marriage with out the stigma.

But then I will be a mother. A mother who may have to send out girls in to the world populated by the children of the sexist men she battles with today. A mother who may have sons who could be exposed to the poison of the masses, despite her best efforts to arm him accordingly.

And steady on I go. Fighting. Aiming high, shooting low. Feel free to take your best shots at me. You will lose.

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