- Not really….
- Not really….
Dear White People (2014) dir. Justin Simien
An advocacy group has released images which claim to show an NYPD officer putting a seven-months pregnant woman into a chokehold for illegally grilling on the sidewalk in front of her apartment.
NYPD officers have been banned from using the chokehold since 1993, but an officer can be seen in the pictures wrapping his arm around 27-year-old Rosan Miller’s neck in the Saturday incident.
Her young daughter is also in the pictures, watching the arrest unfold.
Illegally grilling on the sidewalk! What a hardened, dangerous criminal! And I bet that little girl now has a very solid grasp on who she can trust and what’s ok to do to women and/or people who are physically weaker than you!
NYC is so extra. I don’t understand how anyone from up top can complain about anything down south when y’all have to put up with this shit daily. I am so fearful of being black while having to exist in NY.
Eid Mubarak to all the Ethiopian Muslims who made it through another Ramadan in a nation state that criminalizes their existence and actively seeks to tarnish their holy month with its violence, to all the Eritrean Muslims whose bodies suffer the consequences of the USA’s inhumane sanctions against a government whose corruption is not their fault, to all the Somali Muslims whose prayers are sometimes drowned out by drone strikes.
Yet ppl don’t understand how white privilege still exists in brown n black countries
And pooooor Europe doesn’t want any immigrants in their country :’(
See dis face? See dis mouf all twist over here so’s I can’t shet it? See dat eye? All raid, ain’t it? Been dat way fo’ eighty-some years now. Guess it gonna stay dat way tell I die. Well, ole Missus made dis face dis way.
Wanta know ‘bout slave days, do you? Well, set on dat chair. I’ll tell you what slave days was like. Marsa was a well-meanin’ man, but ole Missus was a common dog. Was twenty-some o’ us slaves, an’ dat was one house where de men workin’ in de fiel’ git mo’ to eat den de house servants. In de house ole Missus was so stingy-mean dat she didn’t put enough on de table to feed a swaller.
— page 191 —
Well, here’s how it happened. She put a piece of candy on her washstan’ one day. I was ‘bout eight or nine years ole, an’ it was my task to empty de slop ev’y mornin’. I seed dat candy layin’ dere, an’ I was hungry. Ain’t had a father workin’ in de fiel’ like some of de chillun to bring me eats—had jes’ little pieces of scrap-back each mornin’ throwed at me from de kitchen. I seed dat peppermint stick layin’ dere, an’ I ain’t dared go near it ‘cause I knew ole Missus jus’ waitin’ for me to take it. Den one mornin’ I so hungry dat I cain’t resist. I went straight in dere an’ grab dat stick of candy an’ stuffed it in my mouf an’ chew it down so quick so ole Missus never fin’ me wid it.
Nex’ mornin’ ole Missus say:
"Henrietta, you take dat piece o’ candy out my room?" "No mam, ain’t seed no candy." "Chile, you lyin’ to me. You took dat candy." "Deed, Missus, I tel de truf. Ain’t seed no candy." "You lyin’ an I’m gonna whup you. Come here." "Please, Missus, please don’t whup me. I ain’t seed no candy. I ain’t took it." Well, she got her rawhide down from de nail by de fire place, an’ she grabbed me by de arm an’ she try to turn me ‘cross her knees whilst she set in de rocker so’s she could hol’ me. I twisted an’ turned till finally she called her daughter. De gal come an’ took dat strap like her mother tole her an’ commence to lay it on real hard whilst Missus holt me. I twisted ‘way so dere warn’t no chance o’ her gittin’ in no solid lick. Den ole Missus lif’ me up by de legs, an’ she stuck my haid under de bottom of her rocker, an’ she rock forward so’s to hol’ my haid an’ whup me some mo’. I guess dey must of whupped me near a hour wid dat rocker leg a-pressin’ down on my haid.
Nex’ thing I knew de ole Doctor was dere, an’ I was lyin’ on my pallet in de hall, an’ he was a-pushin’ an’ diggin’ at my face, but he couldn’t do nothin’ at all wid it. Seem like dat rocker pressin’ on my young bones had crushed ‘em all into soft pulp. De nex’ day I couldn’ open my mouf an’ I feel it an’ dey warn’t no bone in de lef’ side at all. An’ my mouf kep’ a-slippin’ over to de right side an’ I couldn’t chaw nothing’—only drink milk. Well, ole Missus musta got kinda sorry ‘cause she gits de doctor to come regular an’ pry at my mouf. He git it arterwhile so’s it open an’ I could move my lips, but it kep’ movin’ over to de right, an’ he couldn’t stop dat. Arter a while it was over jes’ whar it is now. An’ I ain’t never growed no mo’ teef on dat side. Ain’t never been able to chaw nothin’ good since. Don’t even ‘member what it is to chaw. Been eatin’ liquid, stews, an’ soup ever since dat day, an’ dat was eighty-six years ago.
Here, put yo han’ on my face—right here on dis lef’ cheek—dat’s what slave days was like. It made me so I been goin’ roun’ lookin’ like a false face
In this excerpt from Weevils in the Wheat (1976), a former slave, Henrietta King of West Point, Virginia (b. 1843), tells an interviewer about the disfigurement she suffered at the hands of her former mistress. Weevils in the Wheat, edited by Charles L. Perdue Jr., Thomas E. Barden, and Robert K. Phillips, collects all the interviews of former Virginia slaves conducted during the Great Depression by theVirginia Writers’ Project. Many of the interviews, including King’s, were published inThe Negro in Virginia (1940). The original interview transcriptions often rendered African American speech phonetically.
Children in the front door (literally) of their southwest Washington, D.C. home. November 1942.
Gordon Parks, photographer
Library of Congress
Your not any less of a black girl if you don’t have a booty.
Your not any less of a black girl if you can’t dance.
Your not any less of a black girl if you don’t have any curves.
I find a lot of black girls feeling complacent if they do not have these certain attributes, that almost seem synonyms to Black Women. Your blackness is not and should not be defined by this.
I also see a lot of people, black or non black, who help perpetrate these stereotypes and it needs to end.
“I’m an adult” I whisper as I try not panic while I’m filling in all those forms that I don’t understand.
So you mean to tell me I don’t have to wait 8 long hours no more?
^right, like this makes me really happy
Whaaaaat TF 😳😳
Black women stay fucking up the hair care game!
I can just hear the collective praise breaks happening in reaction to this gif set.
Ladies gonna be strolling the streets with on point braids.
That is stunning.
-burn them all to the ground
- sacred museums telling the actual history of slavery not glorifying the lives of slave owners
-genetic testing/ ancestry mapping sites for Black Americans
Katt Williams on Dave Chappelle: “But Dave Chappelle was decapitated in front of us. And until we deal that. Until we deal with the fact that a devout Muslim was accused of being a crackhead. And until we establish the fact that they said he went to Africa to smoke cocaine when we know they don’t have running water and food over there. When they don’t have paved roads over there. You saying he flew past Chicago and Miami and LA and New York and Detroit, you saying he went past Cleveland and Fort Pierce, Florida, and he went past Okeechobee and Oakland, you saying he went all the way to another country where they not eating? You talking about somebody who has a wife and children, five children, and lives on a farm, he doesn’t live here in Hollywood. You saying you convince people that person was an insane crackhead? And he hasn’t been on movies and TV for eight years is that correct? Ok then don’t tell me about what you wanna tell me, I just watched you decapitate him in front of me… Then when he made 500 million dollars, even though his contract said he was supposed to get half of it, they said he made too much for the contract to be valid, so we’ll offer you 10% of what you made. You mean he made 500 million and they offered him 50? Yes. And he said, “what do you think my fans are gonna say? When they find out you offered me 10% of what I made you.” And they said, “your fans will believe that you’re a crazy crackhead by the time you get home. And my nigga got on a flight in LA and by the time he got to Ohio it was so. And eight years later he hasn’t been in a movie or television and is just now trying to do his real comeback in Radio City Music Hall. It’s bees like that sometimes.”
White supremacy is meticulous, and people think shit be happening by coincidence. This has pissed me d fuck off