acceptscreditsanddick:

queennubian:

fatality

J

Wow lots of reblogs this morning.  But this, this this this.  This.  This is why it’s hard being a cosplaying geeky black girl, because this is the expectation.  Right here.  I once had a customer tell me to my face when I worked at GameStop, “I just assumed a woman like you wouldn’t have time for games.”  Woman like me?  You don’t even know me, sir, we’ve talked for thirty seconds, and that entire time was spent with you asking me, “Do you even play games?”  You think because I’m a black woman that I don’t know what a PS3 is?  Oh wait, you assume I know because of the children I obviously have, or the boyfriend, right?  (I’ve gotten this one a lot, too).

Even with the book coming out, I’ve been asked what it’s about and when I go, “It’s an urban supernatural murder mystery where animals come to life,” I get weird looks.  No guys, it’s not one of those “angry black woman” stories.  I’m not writing about how someone “did me wrong” because, honestly, I’ve never really experienced that to the point of wanting to add to the literature about it.  Has someone done me wrong in my lifetime?  Hell yeah.  But you know what my muses want to write about?  Birds coming to life.  Because that’s just who I am.  I’m weird and geeky and would rather write about an extinct species of animal turning into a hot guy than how my ex-boyfriend stopped talking to me because I wouldn’t sleep with him.

And before you ask, no, the murder scenes are not symbolism to some repressed memory of someone treating me like crap and me taking out my aggression on them.

It’s a double-edged sword, really.  If I don’t write about it then I’m weird because, clearly, all black women are “angry.”  However, if I do write about it it’s, “Ugh just another angry black woman.”  And that’s not just from the white perspective, but from the black perspective too.  My mom, my own mom, flat out told me, “I get so tired of those stories, I’m glad you’re writing something different.”  Now am I saying that there aren’t reasons for black women to be “angry?”  No, of course not, because there are – trust me, this post proves it.  Just don’t assume that every black woman you see is holding a grudge against someone and is going to set their car on fire.

Honestly?  All PEOPLE have reason to be angry, not just us.  But that’s the stereotype established.  It’s a blessing and a curse, I guess.  Don’t mess with us, yes, sure, that’s fine.  But at the same time don’t assume that I’m here to rip your head off, because I’m not.  Just like we won’t assume that all white men are out to get us.  Not all white men follow that stereotype of being on top of the world and being assholes.  And you’ve all seen those posts on tumblr, of the white guy posting about how he’s been discriminated against or hurt or pushed around and the responses of, “Oh cry me a river white boy you know nothing about pain.”  Guess what?  Pain and hurt don’t discriminate.  It could give a flying fuck about what color you are or what gender you are.  Anyone can be hurt, can be angry, can be whatever emotion they want, so just stop this nonsense already.