Ain't no friends here...

"White Americans have been raised to believe a). the police are always the good guys and frankly Black lives are worth less than White comfort. And until we deal with that, until we deal with the reality that ... what you are saying is 'my discomfort with you, right now, is worth more than the potential that your life could be snuffed in ten minutes'. Until you deal with that; nothing is going to change" - Tim Wise

Tim Wise is an American anti-racism activist and writer from New Orleans, Louisiana. He goes around the country to talk about all the ways America's systemic racism is embedded within the United States. (I can't even bring myself to say "our" country.) He, like so many others in the United States, particularly those of color have said this message since the first pilgrim landed on Plymouth Rock. However, even in the cruiel world of injustice, it is his words that are actually heard. Not the words spoken by people of color.

I've met Tim Wise. I've read his books. I even have his autograph and was completely starstruck when I met him. But, now I think I was intimidated by the man that people would listen to; because I never feel heard. A friend from work send me a meme this past weekend that says, "Black women will always be 'too loud' for a world that never intended on listening to them." I feel that in my bones.

I have learned, maybe out of survival, maybe out of traditional "Christian" religion, maybe out of American culture, that my voice has no place in the world. I am a Black female in the world that doesn't see me as a member of society. I was watching a Trevor Noah special the other day and he talked about his parents. His mom, a Black woman of South Africa, his father a white man. Their relationship was illegal and his mom would often get locked up because she had this bright skinned kid. He talked about how his mother had a full fledged maids outfit to go to see Trevor's dad. She was only valuable as a servant.

All this in my head, never seems to leave. I am constantly on guard to see what well-meaning (or not) person is going to do something that threatens my existence. I walk around seeing who is going to throw me under the bus next. I am a warrior of one. I cannot trust anyone... And so I walk around smiling on the outside and raging on the inside. I am the only person I can trust and even then, do I trust myself? The the war of survival, in the world of existence you cannot be left with your guard down. When people do me wrong, I now come to expect it. Cause in the battle for survival, ain't no friends here.