Being in college is, by far, probably the best time of every person’s life. You get to start over from all the dorkiness and loserdom many of us reigned over in high school (not me, I was a cool kid, but yeah). In addition to having this ultimate chance to redefine yourself from high school, it seems like the perfect time to try all of the things you’ve had an itching to do since your hormones kicked in around 16, but couldn’t do (because you lived with your parents). And most of those things involve drugs and sex. I want to talk about sex.

Getting it on without sneaking around.

Drinking and then driving it into that puddy.

Figuring out how Karrine Steffans does that “thing” with her mouth that took Mr. Marcus down in 30 seconds.

Whether we admit it or not, we’ve had some pretty freakish anticipation about what to do in these four years that we might not get a chance to do after them. As a junior, I have had two full years of scratching just about nothing off of my personal list (damn my committed heart!) and have witnessed two years of freaks cover all of the acts on my checklist times five. In their first quarter. Especially the freshman sistas.

Football players. Basketball players. A quarter-to-half of the campus NPHC orgs. A club/org president or two. And their LINKS (freshman) adviser. Damn. Some of my sistas have already hampered their chances of any respectful or honorable reputation on campus before Thanksgiving. They are giving upperclass-men everything to be thankful for. These young women walk around with their heads held high as if they have achieved what no others could or have. They don’t take advice from upperclass-women and their warnings about them being fresh meat. They believe they are getting hated on. And they don’t want to hear anything about “he’s this girl’s boyfriend” or “he Facebook stalks chicks right out of high school.” I have heard my fair amount of boasts about having sex with “men” who they can only identify as “that dude on the football team with the locs.” Really? You can’t get a name before you let him slide himself into you?!?!

THAT IS SICK.

I can only off-handedly call girls who condone the objectification of themselves “bops.” I picked this term up from my people from Cleveland, which is a loving word for what I would usually call a “hoe,” “slut,” “skeeze,” and overall “trifiling bitch.” I try to refrain from calling my sistas these terms, but if is fucks like a duck and sucks like a duck, well, quack quack.

I seriously understand that it is in NO WAY none of my business who individual girls sleep with, but when the Black community at a school is less than 3% of the school’s population, there is no way that a chick boasting about her skeletons is going to stay in the closet. And besides, Black people love to talk. About everyone. Especially ourselves. So if Mr. Black-and-Blue starts listing off who he’s knocked off to all his boys, and someone “overhears” what “knowledge” Ms. FreshMeat’s been giving out, not only will she be the undercover gossip, she’ll find herself with droves of wolves trying to be her “friend” or “buddy,” but really trying to tear that hide to pieces.

My bias seems to get the best of me when it comes to situations like this one. How does one separate the females who are just “sexually liberated” from the hoes? Is it possible for a college sista to have some good lovin’ without being seen as “wide open”?

When I look at a 19-year-old sista, fresh out of high school, I can’t look at her as a “liberated” woman. I see a naive child; an orphan to a world her parents never prepared her for. College is NOT the real world, as some people may think. It’s missing many real-world concepts that are substituted by a hell of a lot of free time compared to the lower years of schooling, a lot more attractive, seeming mature men (that we’ve been “waiting to date,” because high school dudes are BS), and a mind that is free from parental discipline. It’s a big adult playground and all the toys are set out in front of you. But when being “free” means suddenly losing your virginity to the big name on campus, and sleeping with three more of his closest friends (and three of his worst enemies), it’s a sign of hoodrat-ness. And hoodrat-ness does not equate adulthood. The drama that some women create by sleeping with men who have set relationships with each other is enough for me to call someone a slut, because a slut is only about self-satisfaction and thinks with her puss, not her brain. Why would ANYONE want to find out their best friend and them are sleeping with the same girl?

HOW MANY SONGS MUST BE MADE TO GET THE POINT ACROSS THAT THIS IS NOT ACCEPTABLE!?!?!?

 If only JuicyCampus had never been shut down…. Yeah, I said it. We all know what they said was true.

All in all, I think it’s unfair that women are often considered sluts for sleeping around. But damn, WHAT ARE YOU THEN!?!?! We women say that this view of us supports a double standard because men are never judged for their excessive, often just-as-trifiling sexual activity and behavior. But is this really something we want to be equal on? Sleeping with as many men as the biggest man-hoe on campus is not going to earn us respect as women. If women are trophies, shouldn’t one set the highest standards for presenting one’s rewards? Because it’s never going to be seen as an accomplishment that you slopped up the best stepper on campus. If anything, one should be suprised that you “finally” awarded someone with that kind of special prize. No one should be rolling their eyes or sighing about it. Except the billions of other men who thought you were like the rest when you weren’t! 

Some women believe that you don’t have to be in a relationship to have sex, and that all one needs is attraction, a certain amount of trust (which seems to be gained quite easily after Thirsty Thursdays or a party held by Greeks). I don’t understand how one can trust someone without having a relationship with them. With chlamydia as popular an STI as it is around ALL college campuses like it’s a fashion, and gonorrhea, herpes, and HIV not trailing too far behind, one would think that women had more respect for their bodies and avoided meaningless sex with strangers. But I guess athlete’s muscles prevent them from being able to transmit SEXUALLY TRANSMITTED INFECTIONS AND LIFELONG DISEASES, and wearing Greek letters does the same. *cough* And condoms DON’T protect against everything, including your rep on campus from being destroyed before people even connect name with face.

Leave “Sex and the City” to old bats that are making money and aren’t surrounded by people who can learn of all of their biz.

And you aren’t Trina or Lil’ Kim, either…

So stop acting like a hootrat and open a damn book, not your legs.

Let me know what you think.

Brothas… don’t THINK you got away from me. I’m grilling you all next!

 A little more study…

A little less ass….

                                                                                …And a complete abolition of messing with little girls!

This post is in response to “All Men Love White Women, Black Women Cannot Date White Men, All Men Hate Black Women… and Why“.

I really loved your post. I am glad to have a friend as bright and intelligent as you and loves her race no matter what.

I am Jamaican/Antiguan/Asian/British(white) but I am recognized as a black male. I love my race and I would never trade it for anything in the world to be recognized as a Black “brother”.

I am a man…and I love ALL women especially black women. My mother is a successful black woman who is the division manager at the world bank, My grandmother who resided in Jamaica with my grandfather, always taught her kids to allow their kids to dream big….and that’s why I am staying true to my goals in life (because I was told to).

I am fortunate to have a father that has been married to my mother for 23 years and hasn’t run out on our family for no other circumstances. Even though he was previously married he knew that it wasn’t his time to settle down with his previous wife (back when he was 25).

Your entry opened my mind up gradually and I saw that you said that Black women are only used “for sex” and white women are the “wifey ones”. If that is what you believe I understand but as an African American Male I disagree. I personally find my female race counterparts very devoted and committed and honest in a relationship. Whenever I go online to update my facebook status I tend to see statuses (from usually black girls I am “facebook friends” with) saying “I am in love with him! <3″ or even “I am always thinking about him..” and sometimes “Why does he do this to me, am I too deep in love?” Just for fun, I once went to one “facebook friends” profile and clicked on her boyfriend she claimed to be in a relationship with (at that time) and I saw a BLACK Dude, but he was wearing a du Rag matching his big white shirt, with baggy jeans, and a grill in his mouth and stunna shades…..I was kinda laughing inside because I know that someone like her can do way better than that. If that’s what most woman want in a man, I cannot hate but that’s probably the problem there…most black dudes are acting like “boys” when they should be acting like “men” and treating there beautiful black girls with love, money and respect. Maybe some (black) men are too scared to have a bold strong black women by their side as a mate because they want full control. I am proud of my counterparts because you guys stand up for whatever is on your mind and you are always ready to keep us in check whenever our male egos get the best of us. Despite the fact that I am eclectic when it comes to choosing a girlfriend, just to put it out there my “sistas” are number 1 on the list.

Bottom line, maybe it’s just the brothas who have been encountered more. There are good successful black dudes out there who aren’t afraid of having an “even out” relationship with his fellow black “sista”. We do exist, just gotta find us a give us a chance. Instead of looking at us as the dudes vibing out with big shirts and oversize jeans in rap videos on BET, maybe tune the channel to us serenading a beautiful black girl in a r&b video on VH1 Soul or even tune to CNN and watch our President speak!

As the Undercover Brother said “Behind every strong black man is a strong black woman”…That is very true! We will give you love as long as you return the favor!

Chris Summers is a sophomore at Ohio University studying Audio Production/Music. He is a DJ and the mastermind of a local music label called 1Side. Check him and his music out at these websites:

www.djishineworld.com (blog)

myspace.com/djishine (music site)

It’s the reality that we must all face. It’s the truth that we will never accept. But there is reason… sad, demoralizing reason.

I have constantly been in search of myself and my goals for the future. Relationships tend to play a role in the way I think of my impending success, but in the guise of so much hatred and self-loathing (of others, not myself), I wonder how I will ever succeed. I am a woman of color who cannot get past race. I am in no means color-blind. And in the topic of love and relationships, I carry the preference of dating and associating with mostly only people of color.

I have never loved a white man. I say this, though I have, in my very young youth, had a very close friend that was a white male. Needless to say, we are no longer associates. I have always blamed race for our falling out.  I was a smart, talented Black female, and he was a lazy, drug-addict white kid. He rode my coattails from 2nd to 8th grade, and after we graduated from middle school, he dropped out of high school and I went on to graduate from the best high school in my city and accept a full-ride from an out-of-state university (sounds like it should have been the other way around to SOME people). His dreams were built on mine; for a long time, I thought he would be my life-long partner. But reality is a bitch, and he’s what white people would consider “white trash” and I’m what white people would call “an exceptional Black scholar.” Or “one lucky nigger.” Just depends on who you’re talking to and how well their brain is connected to their mouth.

So I have decided that even though I have this higher level of education, that many of my Black brothas do not have, I will hang it in for a Black man with lesser education than a white man with equal to more education that I have. I cannot give myself up to a white man. Which is why I’m writing this, in hopes of seeing if I reasoning is similar of the same to that of a sista in my predicament.

THIS IS NOT FOR THE SHALLOW OF HEART. I AM NOT TRYING TO CODDLE ANYONE’S EGO.

Why I (A Proud Black Woman) Cannot Date a White Man

I love my people. I know my history. I know of the attempts white people have made to thwart my education (so that I hate myself and my history), which strengthens my desire to learn more about the people I love.

History. History has told me an angering story about how my ancestors, 100% African people, were kings and queens, prosperous landowners  and businessmen (sounds like a fairy tale now), and wise intellectuals and teachers, who were kidnapped from their fruitful land and piled into slave “castles” without water, food, space, clothing, and cause. The savages who took my ancestors were white men. These white men, who were supposedly good Christians and believed in freedom and representation, disregarded their values and refused to extend these rights to people who had skin tones darker than their own. (Hence, I am not a Christian!)

The women of my ancestry were RAPED CONTINUOUSLY and forced to bear children who would know no love from their master-fathers, and would be shunned and mistreated by these white men’s wives, because they were the evidence of infidelity. Infidelity with a BLACK WOMAN, a woman who was not supposedly equal to a white woman, yet their husbands desired. (This is where the ORIGINAL strain of the Black-white women realtionships begins.)

I think of this every time I consider finding a white man attractive (it tends to go no farther than this). History proves that a white man only sees himself engaged with a Black woman in a sexual manner. This is proven not only in the midst of slavery, but through the Blaxploitation films of the 1960s (and the 1960s in general), and by talking to any college-aged white male (“I’d love to mess with just ONE Black chick [before I settle down with my innocent white wife]“). She may be the twist of his sexual desires, but he instictively cannot desire her for intellect and strength. He cannot see her as a good mother or an equal partner (she couldn’t protect herself from his hands as a slave, nor could she possibly have the brains to entertain a white man’s superior  intellect [since she is mentally inferior]).

This is one of the reasons why many white men desire a certain type of Black woman when they claim to have a “thing” for Black women: These sistas are usually VERY dark, with natural hair (like the African slave), with slim “white women” body types and a “white” attitude (calm, supremely educated, and seemingly docile ["doormat" material, maybe?]). They are best of both worlds without really giving up any biases. They come from affluent families and have parents who are usually the “uppity” Black people all white people feel comfortable associating with. They love these women because they know these women have, for the most part, bought into the “equality” fantasy and are not going to challenge or even dig for those obvious prejudices the white male inherently carries from years of privelege and what I call “discrimination education.”

Why The Black Man (And All the Rest) Loves The White Woman

She is the epitome of beauty. Built like the 10-year-old Eminem, her coccyx is the perfect flatness to slide into those low-riders that show off… nothing. Her hair is so long and straight, she can wear it the same way for a decade and no one will be phased by her lack of creativity. And when she wants a new look, She (ooooooh) cuts/colors it. Wow.

It’s no big secret that there is nothing interesting about a white woman. Historically, she is the damsel in distress, the broad too dumb to work, and too weak and fragile to open her own door. She needed a “gentle”man so that her Barbie-esque ass wouldn’t break in half out of fragility or stupidity. And Black men, being the underappreciated, unneeded specimens that Black women have made them out to be (through becoming independant women who can support themselves and raise families alone) flocked to these creatures who couldn’t hop a street corner without assistance. Black men want to be men, and white women give them every chance to do so. They EXPECT a man who will make all of the decisions, give them all that they desire, take care of them, and they expect a certain dowry for their hand in marriage (“Show me the money”).

This is what the Black man thrives for. Control over himself, his future, and the welfare of his woman and children. These freedoms were taken away from the Black man during slavery (yes, it ALL comes back to this) and given to the white master. Black men were intentionally separated from their families during this time period. They have been forced to move and attemted to build home elsewhere. many slave men started several families throughout their lives due to their continuous selling. Time after time, he could not return to the home he just built and to the family he would have given anything to rear. These Black women went on without them and raised their children on their own. There was once a time where a male slave would buy himself out of slavery and them come back to buy his family. Slowly, a transition started where we saw the likes of Sojourner Truth and Harriet Tubman arise, where women took it upon themselves to lead escapes from masters and buying themselves and their families out of slavery. They became the breadwinners and protectors of their home, and have continuously strengthened this role to become the respect heads of thier households. They were the mother-fathers. For centuries, the Black man has attempted to win back his position as the alpha male, and has spited the Black woman for never turning control over to him again.

Which gets to…

Why All Men Hate Black Women

Black women have become so accustomed to providing for themselves, making their own decisions and being alone (“I don’t need anyone but M.E.”) that ALL men have begun to see us as an almost asexual group. And a spiteful group. Of course, we should KNOW by now that a woman’s place is behind a man, and if we curtsied and giggled at lame jokes and dreamed of being barefoot and pregnant, we would all be married. We’ve elevated our importance and role to that of a man, and that is why men are put off by us.

What have I left out? I know I sound a little angry… especially about white women. But tell ME… I could go into the legacy of Emmitt Till and how disappointed I am in Black men, but I tend to get very emotional.

Read more… Another Woman’s POV

 

Thanks to white men and their racist/sexist hatred of black women for over 450 years, black people as a whole are not a PURE-BLOOD RACE of people. Remember, it was white men who ran black women down, dogged them, raped them, and changed black people genetically and skin color wise. So, black people are really not black people. Black Americans are A mixed-blood, hybrid race of people. We have more genetically in common with American whites than whites do with Asians.

Children who are mixed blood suffer more from close family members who make life a hell for those children, and those so-called family members usually are the grandparents who do not accept the non-white spouse who married their white son/daughter.

Sorry for my harshness, but, millions of white men do not have the balls to consider black women as marriage material.

F**k-em material, yes, Wife–no.

For those who do not know who I am talking about, Henry Louis Gates, Jr. is an American educator, scholar, writer, editor, and public intellectual, sometimes called “nation’s most famous black scholar” (one could argue that Cornell West is, but we’ll let Gates shine for now).

Gates is the W.E.B. Du Bois Professor of the Humanities at Harvard and director of the W.E.B. Du Bois Institute for Afro-American Research there.  Educated at Yale and Clare College of the University of Cambridge, he taught English literature and Afro-American studies at Yale and at Cornell before joining Harvard in 1991.

Simply put: the man is an exemplary asset to the race. The human race.

Cops responded to Gates’ house after neighbor Lucia Whalen reported spotting “two Black males with backpacks” trying to gain entry to the home (Gates, returning home from a trip overseas, and his driver were contending with a stuck front door). The Cambridge Police Department reports, authored by Sergeant James Crowley (white) and Officer James Figueroa (Hispanic), quote an incensed Gates yelling, “This is what happens to Black men in America!,” and, when asked by Crowley to speak with him outside the residence, Gates replied, “ya, I’ll speak with your mama outside.” As Gates continued to yell on his front porch, a crowd of a few neighbors grew. A disorderly conduct rap was filed against Gates, but quickly dropped by prosecutors. Gates is rightfully considering legal action against the Cambridge police.

The start of this problem is with the neighbor. Lucia Whalen (a white woman) maligned the famous professor to be cast as a Black burglar with backpack and crowbar. One can assume that it was a case of mistaken identity, but would she REALLY think that Gates and his driver, in a high-end vehicle, in the middle of a bright, sunny day, would be attempting to break into another Black person’s house (supposedly one of the ONLY Black-owned homes in this quaint community)? Why could she not had called over to this suspicious Black man to see if it was her neighbor? She had to have known she had a Black man living next store, and neighbors in ALL communities are nosey. It seems fishy. And, would she had supposed the same thoughts if the man on the porch was white?

Next comes the pigs. Responding to a possible burglary is a cop’s job. Gates knows this, but was pissed that he was being accused of being a burglar. He’s the only Black man in his neighborhood, one of the most well-known and respected educators in America, a researcher of racism and profiling in America, and here he is with a white cop invading his space and making him prove that he could even possibly live in such a nice house. It is an expected attitude. But no matter how rude, obnoxious, or grumpy Dr. Gates had been acting, if he did not threaten the pigs, he should not have been arrested once Crowley was shown proof that the professor was in his own home. Crowley should have swallowed his pride and left.

[Dr. Gates] said he repeatedly demanded that one officer give his name, and that when he stepped outside of his house and demanded the information from six other cops, they arrested him. Gates time in the slammer was a traumatic experience. “I have mild claustrophobia. The jail cell was very claustrophobic,” Gates said. The city of Cambridge and the police department, in full damage-control mode, released a joint statement calling the arrest “regrettable and unfortunate” and said the criminal charges would be dropped. -The Daily Beast

Instead, he had to make an example out of this Black man. How dare a world-renowned, supremely more educated, exponentially wealthier Person of Color talk down to white man with handcuffs, pepper spray, and a gun? Accuse him of racism? Call out his mom? Surely, verbally denouncing a police officer is an arrestable offense. Especially if you are the member of a historically oppressed group which is targeted by representatives of the law.

What this cop didn’t know is that Dr. Gates is pretty cool with The President of the United States of America, Barack H. Obama. President Obama was not too happy about this incident. He appropriately called it “stupid.” President Obama stopped short of an apology to Sgt. James Crowley on Friday for saying he “acted stupidly” for arresting Black Harvard scholar Henry Lewis Gates Jr., but said he should have chosen his words more carefully. The Cambridge Police had an even bigger problem with this “outside agitator” (as they would call it in the South of the 1940s-1970s) . They wanted him to apologize. (If this were Bush or any other white president, no one would have asked for an apology.)

Dennis O’Connor, president of the Cambridge Police Superior Officers Association, said…

“Whatever may be the history, we deeply resent the implications and reject any suggestion that in this case or any other case that they’ve allowed a person’s race to direct their activities. However we hope they will reflect upon their past comments and apologize to the men and women of the Cambridge Police Department,” O’Connor said.

President Obama was surprised that the media made his comment such a controversy, and stopped short of an apology to Crowley on for saying he “acted stupidly” for arresting black Harvard scholar Henry Lewis Gates Jr. He should have chosen his words more carefully. He did not call cops at a unit stupid. He did not call Crowley stupid (though he would have been right). He said the cop acted stupidly. He then called for a reconciliation of the situation, calling Dr. Gates and Crowley in to the “House” for a beer.

This is not the time for sit downs and beer. At the least, the Cambridge Pigs need to stop rolling the crap uphill and oink out their own apology for their rogue arrest. Cops that need to shoves their nuts in the face of a person they are vowed to serve need to be disciplined. This cop was supposedly known for “getting along with black cops” and being a police trainer for lessening racial profiling.

If a man like Henry Lewis Gates, Jr. can be thrown into a pitfall of discrimination that finds itself to the attention to the nations’ top leader, who can be spared? Not my 13-year old brother, for sure. Young, black, and ignorant, he has no idea of the injustices and tricks that will be placed in front of him to mislead and misguide him from being a Harvard educator and scholar himself. He and other Black men like him are facing a police force that hunts them like deer in season. They can be law-abiding citizens, gentlemen attaining a degree, or famous scholars, and they will not be immune to the disgust that is the criminal justice system. Anyone can be made a scapegoat, or example of. The Cambridge Police force proved this.

Any comments?

Last Comment: What Obama Said (which says it all)…

“But I think it’s fair to say, No. 1, any of us would be pretty angry,” Obama said. “No. 2, that the Cambridge police acted stupidly in arresting somebody when there was already proof that they were in their own home. And No. 3 — what I think we know separate and apart from this incident — is that there is a long history in this country of African-Americans and Latinos being stopped by law enforcement disproportionately, and that’s just a fact.”

Uh, I like a long hair thick red-bone…

 Nice hair! Not hers.

I like ‘em caramel skin long hair thick ass…

Nice and full… but not hers.

And I dont know how fake feels, so I gotta keep it real…

 HA! NEVER!

I always wonder what goes through men’s minds when they are watching TV (right now, I’m thinking, the video to “Every Girl,” by Trash-Ass-Lil’ Mistake-Wayne) and looking at these beautiful Black women we have been “blessed” with the media projecting them, period. Considering the fact that Black women are being shown as attractive, stylish, and wanted, I am trying to give producers and execs very limited credit. Very limited (yay, we’re not mammies!). The black women still have some issues that bother me… the airbrushing that makes many celebs look white, the cookie-cutter body shape that thickens the booty to compliment our distinct difference from white girls (but all us Black women on TV seem to still fit)… But I want to focus on what so many men desire of their Black beauties that we (as the Black beauties) tend to disappoint at time and time again…

HAIR.

Black women are blessed with a lot of things. Firstly, we differ from other races in the fact that MOST of us are not built like a little boy. We have nice, round butts and a bust that compliments it. We have juicy, full lips and a tan that the rest cannot duplicate. But when it comes to growing hair from our heads down to “there,” a lot of Black women find it to be a hard task. We offset this with wigs, glue, sewing needles and thread, tracks, hooks and whatever else is being created so that we can feel like a complete woman. My chosen poison is the lesser of them all: braids and twists.

All of this crap is KILLING OUR HAIR. We can grow long hair! It is not something Black women can’t do, but we choose to care more for our Yaki and Kanekalon dos than our neglected, determined growth! We are making whites and Asians RICH buy shoving our last dollars over for packs of SOMEONE ELSES’ HAIR in a BAG! No matter what we do, many of us seem to be ashamed of our REAL hair, that we do not feel beautiful without it!

Media does not make it easy for us to choose to go natural. When was the last time you saw a fly sista in a music video, commercial, or TV show with locs, a fro, or some natural braids/twists? Or even, with a nice shoulder-length head of real hair? With the exception of modeling shows, where the Black women are COMPLETELY bald, we never seem to get a break. (And let’s not get me started on those models…)

Our men have not made this reality any less painful. Black men want Beyonce, they want Ciera and Trina and video girls… but then they turn around and tell their ladies that they want a “real” woman. They don’t like weave; it’s disgusting. It’s fake/false/unappealing. Even really nicely done weaves get hated on. I agree that SOME weaves are treacherous. I cannot stand seeing a woman under 65 wearing a full wig. (I though wigs were for totally bald people!) And when I see visable tracks all around a girl’s head… it makes me tear. But, like TLC said, “you can buy your hair if it won’t grow.” And you definitely will buy it to feel sexy and wanted like Beyonce.

This has become a problem in our community which is delving into the wider community. Now everyone thinks Black women are incapable of growing beautiful hair. And by beautiful, it has to be long. TLC should have said, “you can buy your hair if it won’t grow quickly.” Or “…if it does not stay in the style you have dreamed of because your hair is too curly.” I personally hate how my hairstyles die with a hit a humidity/moisture in the air. Even still, Black hair does grow, but not how Beyonce’s, Ciera’s and Trina’s hair look in those pictures. None of that is theirs. Especially not Trina’s (she probably has more naural hair on her knees from all that… you know).

For the women out there who have that long, non-black type, blowy hair (with the RELAXER, stop lying! RE-LAX-ER!), the lyric should be “you can buy your hair if it won’t grow like a white woman’s, and I want to keep my hair natural and cover it with some weave every one in a while.” I say this because I know the “Long Hair, Don’t Care” chicks. They throw their hair around more than ditsy blondes. Let it be known, no one is congratulating you on selling out your natural hair type so you too could look like a white girl. Some women don’t mind having curly hair when the time calls for it. We all know the long haired, relaxer girls have issues, too. Most of you can’t keep a crimp anymore…sad. But I digress…

 I have heard Black men who have wrote off Black women as the fakest, self-hating race of women on Earth.

To this I say: “N*gga, please.”

For CENTURIES white women have admired the beauty of the Black woman.

From   to . They love my junk in my trunk.

The “bustle” has always been my favorite attempt of the flat-assed to have my “donk.” And this was the ‘ish in the 17-1800s, when slaves were all the rad. It has not gone away… I’ve seen ads for slip-on bootycheeks. WTF.

Then there’s all the obvious strides to dupicate my hide: Tanning (and getting skin cancer), lip/breast/butt implantation surgery, perms (to THICKEN their bone-straight hair, get this) and it goes on. It’s ridiculous how white women are supposely the EPITOME of beauty, yet all they want is to be Black, and all we want is to be white! But for their “realness,” some Black men think that they are better than the real thing. I know (and lack respect) for many Black men who date outside of their race, and many say that the HAIR of white, Latina, and Asian women is the way they want their woman’s hair to be. And it has to be from the root. I totally don’t get this. Can I not have MY type of hair seen as beautiful?

Ladies: Why can we not just accept ourselves as women who have perfectly wonderful hair, bodies, and skin tones and stop getting hated on by (at least!) our Black brothas and OURSELVES for not being who we really are?

To ALL: Will we ever go back to a time where Black women could look foxy with a fro and good-looking with locs? Will we ever look in the mirror and at TV and see US for who we REALLY ARE?!?!

Let me know.

And you should already know why…

Mark Sanford

John Edwards

Eliot Spitzer

William “Bill” Clinton

What do all of these fine gentlemen have in common (other than their whiteness)?

They are some wack A$$, old A$$ CHEATING MUGS!

And, for the most part, they all lost their jobs when they lost their pants. Somewhere.

Whether it be by getting some fellatio right in the Oval Office, or flying to Argentina to make love to your side-jawn, they always get caught. It’s amazing.

On March 10, 2008, The New York Times reported that Eliot Spitzer was a client of a prostitution ring under investigation by the federal government. Two days later, he announced his resignation as governor of New York, effective March 17, citing “private failings.”

No snooping around on your behalf…

                      …no hiring of private investigators….

Does it get any better? And then… when he is found out, he loses his JOB!

WOOT.

I find it even funnier when it’s a Republican. The party of “family values” really knows how to get it in.

From June 18 until June 24, 2009, the whereabouts of Governor Sanford were unknown to the public, including to his wife and State Law Enforcement Division, which provides security for him, garnering nationwide news coverage. Lieutenant Governor André Bauer announced that he could not “take lightly that his staff has not had communication with him for more than four days, and that no one, including his own family, knows his whereabouts.”

Several hours after arriving back in the US, and upon learning that incriminating evidence was being swiftly mobilized against him by the press, Sanford held a conference, during which he admitted that he had been unfaithful to his wife. Sanford met Chapur at a dance in Uruguay in 2001 and admitted having sex with her starting in 2008. Sanford’s wife had become aware of his infidelities around five months beforehand, and the two had sought marriage counseling. She said that she had requested a trial separation about two weeks before his disappearance.

On June 25, La Nación, a Buenos Aires newspaper, identified the Argentine woman as María Belén Chapur, a 43-year-old divorced mother of two with a University degree on International Affairs who lives in the upscale district of Palermo and works as a commodity broker for the international agricultural firm, Bunge y Born. The State published details of e-mails between Sanford and a woman only identified as “Maria”.

Resignation as Chairman of the Republican Governors Association

Sanford resigned as Chairman of the Republican Governors Association, (HAHA) and he was swiftly succeeded by Mississippi Governor Haley Barbour. In a June 29 email to members of his political action committee, Sanford said he had no intention of resigning as Governor. (COME ON, NOW)

Reimbursement for his private use of public funds

After his affair was revealed in June 2009, Sanford first claimed, “There’s been a lot of speculation and innuendo on whether or not public moneys were used to advance my admitted unfaithfulness. To be very clear: no public money was ever used in connection with this.” (SURE) After a reporter used the Freedom of Information Act to seek records of what public funds were used to pay for Sanford’s trip to Argentina, Sanford eventually chose to reimburse taxpayers for expenses he had incurred one year earlier with his mistress in Argentina. He said, “I made a mistake while I was there in meeting with the woman who I was unfaithful to my wife with. That has raised some very legitimate concerns and questions, and as such I am going to reimburse the state for the full cost of the Argentina leg of this trip.” (Liar, liar!)

I’m obviously enamored. Soon to be Ex-Governor Sanford should be an inspiration to us all. Cheat, and lose it all.

Firstly, if you think this title was over the top in any way, shape or form, you probably don’t deserve to have your amazing Black woman.

 BEFORE SHE LEAVESYOUR WACK ASS!

I consider myself an expert on the Black man. I have studied him from all angles. I have known him as the sister, (step)daughter, (god)daughter, friend, friend-with-benefits, girlfriend, ex-girlfriend, unsuspecting girl on the side, enemy, mentor and witness to others in these positions. I have love hime, hated him, feared him, scared him, trusted him, lied to him, accepted lies by him, and all the rest.

I hope this is enough credibility for you as the reader.

I have also been in a 4-year-long relationship with a brotha. It has been bittersweet (sometimes more than the other). But, as a determined woman, I find myself in a struggle to maintain this bond. I love my Black men, and I love my Black man. So, out of this deep-rooted love, I am going to share some of my learning on how you can contribute to the happiness and continuation of your relationship.

Communicate with us.

The day I realized that I could not get any straight answers to questions I asked my man was the day I started to question my trust with him. Women are communicators. We love to talk, because we like to know what is going on. The less you talk to us, the more we begin to make up answers to our questions for ourselves. For example, I used to ask my man, “How was your day at work” and get a nice little 5 minute overlay of the inter-workings of the airline he works for, what he did on break, what he ate, funny stuff that was said and all. After a while, the answer to my questions was “Fine.” Just “fine.” It leaves a lot to the imagination. “Fine” could be, “There was this fine chick who came over to me and gave me her number, and a tight spot around my zipper,” or “it was a pretty boring day.” In general, giving a one-word answer to any question asked by a woman shouts “I’m hiding something.” Feeling blocked off makes women feel insecure, and leads to a slew of other problems. Assume that when a woman asks you a question that seems simple, she’s attempting to start a conversation.

Also, your friends do not need to know about our issues. Duly noted, women do this. But that’s a female trait! I should not know that your friends know when I’m on my monthly, and that’s why I’m acting whatever way. They should not be mad at me all because you’re mad at me. that makes no sense. You are a grown man.

Don’t slack at swag.

All because you have this wonderful woman (finally) does not mean you get to start being a lazy, uncaring ass. Everything that you fronted as a benefit to being with you still needs to shine. What are you, a false advertisement? I don’t need for you to go from Prince Charming to Oscar the Grouch. If you held my hand out in public and played slow jams on the way back to your place after a nice night out to get me in the mood, you can keep that up. It’s not expensive, it does not hurt. I may not expect a dinner out every other night anymore (because I understand that it’s expensive), but simple sweet things done while courting are expectations in the long haul. These are the unique things that your girl/woman took from you to make you desirable!

Let’s Not Be Jealous

Another thing I see as a female trait… but played in a modest way can benefit your relationship. So… I have a lot of male friends. I was a tomboy as a youth, so i can’t help it. I don’t need you going through my phone deleting people at will. Who is my brother/uncle/family member you have not met yet? OK, then. I personally don’t mind if my guy (after 4 years) goes through my phone occasionally and asks who a few people are (guys and gals). It’s all in the attitude, though. I don’t want to hear, “Oh, who the &^$* is THIS! You cheatin’?!?” Rather, one or two unfamiliar names are easy to explain. I don’t need this to be some accusatory jump-off, though. I would say that this level of privacy should be a conversation in the early parts of a relationship. Some people would not be cool with their partner going through their phone, and some would not want a partner who, say, locks their phone with a code (ex: my hun locks his pictures/videos, I lock my phone altogether). This can cause some insecurities as well.

Also, say we are walking down the street and some guys happen to catch me in their glance (or stare, haha). The last two things I (as a woman) do not want you to do is cause a scene (over a look?) or get mad at ME for being attractive (should I cover myself with mud?). The best reaction to this is to address it jokingly, if I’m not offended. Something like, “They can look, lucky for me, I get to touch, too,” whispered in the ear, is a top choice for me. Now, if they are looking at something I would not be too happy about, say something is exposed (GASP!), I’d recommend that you hastily tell me and allow me/you to rectify the X-rated sight. The LAST THING I need is for you to say, “You’re letting THIS hang out and THAT hang out.” I probably didn’t mean it! Clothes adjust all on their own. Just say something, like a calm gentleman, and I will fix it. You aren’t my dang daddy.

I plan to continue this list… but knowing the men I know, I had to make it as short as possible.

Guys, let me know what you think.

Any additions, ladies? Feel free to comment.

I do not feel any joy on this day…

Today, I am 20 years old. It’s a sick realization…

I am too old to sulk in the ignorance of a teenager… too old to seem innocent and cute…

I am…. too young to do any real gambling, or drink…

I never understood that. What is the point of being 19-20?

At 18, you can finally have sex with everyone 18 and older, get a credit card (that will RUIN YOUR LIFE) and get (stupid) tattoos and piercings without parental permission (ew). More importantly, you can sign into (bad) contracts, sue (bad) people, get charged (unfairly) as an adult for crimes (you didn’t commit), change your (wack) government name, vote (like it counts), enlist in the (corrupt, terrorist-run) military and smoke (your life away)!

At 19, you’re already $2000 in debt from credit cards.  *sigh*

At 20, you are just being tortured. Only 365 days away from being an acceptable lush.

Honestly, it’s not the fact the point that I can’t drink. Of course, people do. But to me, turning 21 will be the moment when I can say “no,” because I just don’t want to. The day I can get that over 21 discount on the club entrance fee and not throw back my saved dollar or two on a Corona. Maybe I’ll take advantage of the free water from the cooler, not because it’s the only thing I can drink, but because I want water. I can get that free sip of wine at the Olive Garden and throw my ID out with trying to “act” older (but I guess I kind of look it…ugh). I want to be that “friend” every 20 years old wants to stay cool with so when they want alc, I can say, “uhhh, I don’t know, __________, have you taken AlcoholEdu?”

So, do not congratulate me on making it here. I’ve only been alive for 7,300 days. I have 365 more to go before we celebrate. Soberly.

I felt the devil’s breath on my cheek and it melted my chocolate brown skin

His lips were as red as blood and on them he wore a wicked grin

He was coated in vanilla and adorn with locks like God’s first child

His eyes as green as grass, combined together, drove me wild…

So long I looked upon him from afar, I sat in silence

The notion that he was docile was quickly overturned by violence

His head held several faces that were stolen, practiced, and learned

I pledged to find his true identity but he was unconcerned…

I knew it was wrong to feel this way about a snake as he

I knew his kind, but hoped to find a love akin to me

But as I dreaded, his sin embedded my soul and did me harm

So lethal the poison he fed to me, and so I sought it unalarmed…

I sensed a stroke inside my soul that blinded me from reality

Broke my hope for change and scarred my aim for love’s diversity

My spark lit his inferno and the heat gave me a first degree

I had burning desires but his apathy made it worse for me…

He looked me in the eyes and told me what I always feared he’d speak

I let myself get comfortable with falseness, tears rolled down my cheeks

Close enough to stab me deep, he did, too bold to pull a trigger

Slowly slumping on myself, he said he’d never love a nigger.

On the road to recovery, that’s what she told me.

Huge tears in her eyes, she screamed, “Hold me, hold me!”

My silly sister, always in a mess she can’t handle alone

That’s why, every other day I try to pick up the phone

And make sure she’s still breathin’, they see her around

Those gansters and johns, you know? One’s you see around town

She tells me she needs money, but they say they keep her paid

God knows how many of them she’s hooked up with and laid

But she laughs up on the telly like she’s the queen on the board

She don’t realize, in their eyes, she’s just some dumb whore

But she won’t leave them alone, my opinion is nil

She smirks, because she knows that they’re paying her bills

And I’m tired of supervising her, she’s pretty much grown

It’s hard for a Black woman to make it on her own!

Until that day I saw her with the black eye, crying

Trying to turn her life around, she’s slowly dying

Men that wouldn’t have it shoved her ‘round a bit

And now I’m feelin’ hurt, these the boys we grew up with

Sweet boys when they were younger, now rotten to the core

Silly sista, put your head up, you know you deserve more