When Checking out of Blackness... Means that You Can't.

These past couple of days have been overwhelming for me.

On top of getting ready to start a new job, re-organizing my personal life and priorities, patching things up with family, and trying to stay sane as a regular human being...here comes the more social media drama about what Kanye West said.

Here comes more news about another unarmed black man being shot by the police.
Here comes another crazy Waffle House story.
Here comes another Starbucks story.
Here comes another Alt Right march.
Here comes more news about black children being denied the right to wear their hair in braids or dreadlocks in school.
Here comes Donald Trump
Here comes black people defending black sexual predators because they're rich.
Here comes the Hebrew Israelites bashing black women and gay people.
Here comes the black feminists bashing all of patriarchy and black men.
Here comes the 40% statistic of black men being unable to find gainful employment.
Here comes another black documentary about the above said statistic and WHY
Here comes all the other statistics that come with being born poor AND black.
And so on...and so on...and so on...and so on...

These past couple of days, I just wanted the wheel to stop. I stepped away from social media and other media outlets for the most part. I feel myself getting agitated and depressed. There are honestly some days like today that I just want to take a break from being a "black" person. There are times when I just want to literally step away from this suit that every one sees as melanated skin, take a step back, and just take a long hiatus before putting my suit back on again. It is mentally and emotionally exhausting being a black person.

I hate having to think about how others may perceive me. I hate that blackness is always the topic of discussion and controversy within and outside of my community.  I hate that I always have to prove to myself and to others that I'm capable of doing anything that I set my mind to and that skin color doesn't have shit to do with IQ or intellectual ability. I hate all of the political drama that comes with blackness and having to explain myself EVERY TIME when someone of a different ethnicity asks me, "Why is there a Black History Month?". Being black means having to explain your very existence sometimes. As if you shouldn't even be here. Or that you're a mistake; a fluke that nature mysteriously allowed. And worst of all, BLACK PEOPLE TREAT OTHER BLACK PEOPLE THIS WAY but it's NEVER acknowledged. We will defend the predators and excuse the perpetrators of violence within our own communities, but absolutely refuse to support those that are trying to do the right thing. We perpetuate ignorance and superstition then claim to be "enlightened". Over 70% of black children are born out of wedlock. A high percentage of black babies are being aborted. Over 50% of marriages end in divorce. 60% of black girls are molested before the age of 18. 33% of black males will be incarcerated before the age of 35. And I'm done.

Nobody wants to come up with any type of solution to our issues and the rest of the world damn sure isn't trying to either. I'm tired of thinking about it. But I have to. I'm tired of being black some days, but I need to be. Because that is what I am. I have to take the good, the bad, the beautiful, and the ugly. I have to look deep within myself and find strength every single day. Because being a part of a community that has been sick and fractured for centuries is not a cake walk. It feels like a curse most days. Some days, it feels like an embarrassment because black people on a collective level seem to not WANT to get themselves together. And it also feels like the rest of the world doesn't want us to either.

I love my skin. I love my hair texture. I love my African features. But I don't love our stigma. I don't love our pain. And I don't love being one of many carrying the burden of having to be a representation of an entire group of people. I just want to be an individual and to be judged as such. But I also have a responsibility. And that responsibility is to stay black, and to proudly display that within my work and life. Even if through occasional frustration and tears.