Claudine – The Welfare Queen


In 1974, Diahann Carroll and James Earl Jones starred in the motion picture Claudine – a single Black mother of six children, on welfare, who finds love in a garbage man. Claudine is one of the first movies to highlight the dynamics of the Black male/female relationship. It also shows the interference of the WHITE man and his ruling thumb as king of the Welfare Queen.

Introducing the Welfare Queen

The first dialogue exchanged between Diahann and the other Black maids taking the bus to work. She explains how she’s suffering from headaches and lack of sleep. The other Blackwomen exchange looks and conclude that it’s perhaps because she hadn’t had sex that morning. She’s a single mother with six children she exclaims! She can’t be putting out and “sleeping around”. A Blackwoman in the group pipes up, “when women fought for equal opportunities they didn’t mean voting – when you got needs, you got needs!”

Let me be so fucking crystal clear on this: when WHITE women were fighting for “equal opportunity” is DID NOT include the Blackwoman. I know this is a hard concept for many Blackwomen to grasp. Gloria Steinem doesn’t give a damn about your BLACK RIGHTS. This so-called “women’s liberation” movement never sought to include the Blackwoman. WHITE women sought to be liberated from WHITE men. She wanted the same equal opportunities as the WHITE man!

The majority of Black folks in Amerikkka fought for CIVIL RIGHTS yet along comes a blonde bimbo telling you to leave your man because she wants to leave hers. The Blackman wasn’t holding the Blackwoman back – what the hell does she need to be liberated from? You say you got needs? Well, tell me what else you want from a Blackman other than an orgasm – if that’s all you’re looking for why should he be the one searching for more?

It Must Be Her Fault

James wants to know what the hell happened to her to be thirty-six with six kids. The Blackman longs to understand how this “keeps” happening to the Blackwoman. “Oh [I must be one of those] ignorant black bitches who always got to be laid up with some dude; grinding, having babies for the taxpayer to take care of”. Slavery and designated Sex Farm Plantations treated Black people like cattle! Blackmen were desired for their big, strong, strapping – “Sambo” physique as he would produce “good stock”. The Blackwoman didn’t make too much of a difference to the slave-master. The Blackwoman would lie around and layup with the various, strange men master brought for her to have sex with. Later he would soon separate every member of that BLACK family.

We, as Blackwomen, have learned that the only value we possess is being able to produce children. Often you can hear a Blackwoman proudly saying, “at least I get paid for what I do now”. The Blackman has been conditioned to believe that his worth is measured by how many children he has. His genes must be worth something is master wants more like him. We were taught these concepts by the WHITE man. Conditions of slavery have stayed with us generations later. Today, Blackwomen still measure their worth based on who wants to sleep with them. Today, Blackmen still measure their worth based on how many women they have slept with.

White Supremacy Holds on Tight

Single with six children – the Blackwoman has been down this road before. She prepares herself for the moment the Blackman will not want to bear the burden of being a husband and a father. She can’t see herself with things no woman around her has yet to acquire. From birth, Blackwomen are emotionally and psychologically prepared to go through life alone. She tells the Blackman, “let’s just enjoy each other until it’s over. Nice goodbye. Nice memories.” The Blackwoman sikes herself out before she ever goes to bat. 

How could she ever see a life without her husband – Mr. Welfare. He is the nosiest husband in town! What does he do? He sends his tired WHITE woman to your door for information. Quick – hide the toaster! Hide the iron! Hide the man! Don’t you dare get caught with another man in HIS house!

He damn near starves you and makes you beg for pennies at his feet. If you can’t feed your children then you don’t d-es-e-r-ve them he tells you. You get a part-time job without telling him you are a sneaky, lying fraud! Decide to stay home and “raise the children” you are lazy. You no longer desire to be the Welfare Queen of this racist castle. You want a divorce but he refuses to sign the papers. Therefore you teach your daughters that any Blackman worth loving “will bring the groceries instead of eating yours”. But how can he?

The System is Rigged

The Blackman wants to take Mr. Welfare’s woman? How much money you got? Every dollar the Blackman makes must be reported to Mr. Welfare. Every purchase, every gift. If you marry the single Blackwoman and her children they become your sole financial responsibility. Blackmen often feel like if those aren’t HIS children then HE shouldn’t be financially responsible. Let’s say he goes through with it and marries this Blackwoman. Mr. Welfare says the Blackwoman don’t need money if the Blackman is working. He’s over forty! He’s a garbage man!

Mr. Welfare doesn’t care. He’s bitter and wants his woman back! The Blackman now has to PROVE that he is MAN enough to take care of his family without foreign assistance. No handouts! But what if he loses his job? The law states the unemployed, married Blackman MUST apply for welfare. All the reporting, deductibles, interviews and home-visits will drive that Blackman to drink. He concludes that it is better to love her from a distance or give up the idea of loving her at all. Now papa’s a rolling stone.

Nothing Has Changed Today

James leaves Diahann because it’s just too much! Just when things couldn’t get worse her eldest son has a vasectomy. He figures being a father or a husband is the worst thing to be. It’ll never work out because the WHITE man isn’t playing fair. Also, her eldest daughter is now unmarried and pregnant. Begin the cycle. “Momma if you loved me why didn’t you kill me like they did on the plantation?” her son asked. You see there was once a time when Black mothers would kill their infant child because she knew the future ahead of it. Diahann replied, “I guess I don’t love you because I wanted you to LIVE” – she sees a better future now. Unfortunately, when slavery ended the WHITE man had no use for Black babies. He stole the concept of welfare from Black communities, coined the term “eugenics” and formulated Planned Parenthood.

Blackwomen want husbands for themselves and fathers for their children. The Blackman sees his only possible opportunity as making money – BUYING FREEDOM. However, don’t be so easily moved. Money ain’t everything. Learn, study and educate yourself – for yourself, by yourself; no foreign assistance! All the money in the world means nothing to the BLACK NATION if you don’t have the knowledge on what to do with it. The biggest house on the hill and the nicest car in the driveway carries no merit if you are one day from the unemployment line. To Mr. Welfare the unwed Black mother and jobless Black father are…

P.S. James marries Diahann.

Photo Cred: “Story of O.J.” by Jay-z,,, &

It’s Not “Just” Pepsi…

For This Case:

Imagine after a long night or early morning, you start the day off with either a canned Starbucks drink or an energy drink like Amp. Be that as it may, however, today there is time to whip something up. Everybody loves Quaker – oatmeal, granola; easy peasy. Consequently, from the thickness, you have a glass of Tropicana or a Naked juice. It is probably midday and time to hit the gym because, well – you know, “summer’s coming”!

If you are a gym head I suppose you drink Gatorade?

Eco-friendly? Life Water.

Broke? Aquafina.

Above all, you aren’t that gullible, are you? You don’t actually pay shipping and handling for IG tea, do you?

Brew Lipton‘s. Buy Brisk.

Seeing that you’re exhausted, by now you have showered, rolled up and now have the munchies, yes? As a result, you head to the corner to cop quarter bags of that good: Doritos, Cheetos, Fritos and Lays. You despise Ruffles. Right! So! It is the weekend and you intend to get litty (in the house, obviously). You also buy cans of 7UP for the Vodka, MistTwist to go with the Gin and then a Mountain Dew for tomorrow’s hangover. Ooh, ooh! Are those Tostino‘s pizza rolls on deck for the 2 for $5? All right, all right, now – you are back in the house. You check social media: #PEPSIisTrending.

I’m perplexed —

  1. Are gentrifying pale women the face of this modern-day revolution?

  2. Is it specifically Pepsi that humanizes military cops?

  3. Ain’t no POC’s working at that company to have disputed this concept?

You a Cola fan, anyway, shit –  Boycott Pepsi!!!

Suddenly, you become conscious of PEPSICO. the company and not just “Pepsi” — the brand.

Photo Cred: Youtube &



Abstractly-Defined Artists Restore Humanity

Artists Restore Humanity

Recently, I had the pleasure of speaking with both an old college professor and a local artist. Comparing both conversations I found some striking similarities; both came from backgrounds with troubled family dynamics which is arguably the foundation of every artist. Independently, yet simultaneously – they have taken their personal experiences and embedded them into ridiculous institutions [by way of teaching] with the objective being either to entertain or report possibilities in real-time.

Collectively, all three of us are teachers, writers, and visual artists; captivated by distorted truths attempting to integrate them with genuine realism. One believes the creative process is individualized with hopes of gaining perspective. The other is steadfast at creating safe spaces for P.O.C’s regardless of their gender identification.

The Professor who Restores Herself

I remember being a sophomore at Augsburg College and enrolling in Sarah Myers Improv Theater class first semester. One of our first assignments was viewing the stage play “Neighbors” featured at Mixed Blood Theater in Minneapolis. To be frank, the production blatantly and [to some] disrespectfully discussed racism. The show was so captivating I saw it nine times! As a young creative, I both intrigued by the artistry of the writers but also offended by the intolerable stereotypes that cowered over the actors.

The healing that Myers offered me as a young, Black woman has forever indebted me to her. For the first time, at 19, I had my first real conversation on race with a middle-aged white woman. Unbeknownst to me, then, Myers had her own share of discrimination by simply being Jewish. A bisexual Jew.

Sarah Myers, a native of Chicago, IL, and active professor at Augsburg College, utilized expressive are in her stage play, ‘I Do Today’. Myers, a self-proclaimed “Bi first – queer now” woman of Jewish faith said that writing the play was a healing process for her. She is an introvert and doesn’t share specific moments of the play publicly because, well – “people make assumptions”. Myers “draws from personal ordeals” with something she has a strong emotional connection to for her creative process.

Whether it’s in front of or behind the stage (she prefers to be behind the scenes) Myers battles with internal issues that would surely perplex her professional community. What are Jewish laws for being bisexual? Can you be bisexual and have a heterosexual marriage? That’s one for the theologians.

The Revolutionary who Restores the Culture

I had the pleasure of meeting Keno Evol 3 years ago in a kitchen, on the south-side of Minneapolis. Ganja blew on the balcony and hood politics discussed in the kitchen. A room full of Black people is so poetic; influenced by recreational substances harmoniously engaging in the most relevant conversation of their lives. 

Keno Evol is a local artist, performer, spoken word artist, dancer, and director. He spent 3 years in the foster care system as were his 8 siblings. Evol now sits as the founder and executive director of Black Table Arts, an arts-based organization centered on conjuring other worlds through Black art, connecting creatives and cultivating volume in Black Life.

He is also the founder of Black Lines Matter [sharing the same acronym as Black Lives Matter] a “writing arena where social politics meets the poetic”; centered on producing historical and contemporary protest projects by Black poets awhile building Black comprehension. An atmosphere that is “free to the public yet highlights and produces premium Black writing” is the mission. His personal goal is to “constantly hold a free space for us to invite more folks to the table, sharpen our swords and lead with love”.  *Black Table Arts meets bi-weekly on Saturdays from 6-8 pm at The Loft Literary Center Room 303

She Who Restores Life

After speaking with both artists I reflect on the times I did something creative to counter pain. It’s effortless to get something either over-the-counter or “under-the-table” to reduce the imposed upon melancholy. Artists are never normal because we are too complex like a contradicting oxymoron. Writing, however, keeps me sane, sober and solvent.

I recalling leaning on my pen more than my pipe to inhale forgiveness and exhale domestic violence, sexual violence, and low self-esteem. I’ve been molested, physically assaulted and raped. Uniquely, I have a tattoo, orbiting my ankle, that reads ‘Dance, Laugh, Sing’ – a daily dose of remedial acts.

As artists, where do we lie down our vulnerabilities when our audiences want silly little anecdotes about love and relationships. A reader once actually told me to write more about my romantic relationships. Perhaps if she knew what all I was still applying Preparation-H to she wouldn’t be so eager to exploit me all in the name of creativity. How ironic is it, though, that my personal pain cleverly disguised as creative works shall be the remedy for her ailments.

My responsibility as a creative is not just to honor humanity but dammit to restore it. Often times it is a tedious expense to invest in humanity but to give up would leave the wound uncovered. In the words of the Notorious B.I.G. “we can’t change the world until we change ourselves”. I say we can’t heal the world’s problems until we hear our own; the cure

is ART.

Photo Cred:, & Pinterest



13th Amendment: Reinvented Slavery

13th Amendment

Last night I watched Ava Duvernay’s, Netflix Original documentary, 13th. The film exposed the inconvenient truth about living and being black in Amerikka today. The alternative to factually abolishing slavery was to reinvent it instead. The 13th Amendment indeed does away with slavery and indentured servitude. Unless, however, it is the punishment for a crime.

The War on Drugs

Ava takes us back to 1971 when President Nixon declared a “war on drugs.”

Bob Fitrakis and Harvey Wasserman, in a 2015 commentary in Free Press, wrote:

The Drug War was officially born June 17, 1971, when Richard Nixon pronounced drugs to be “public enemy number one.” In a nation wracked by poverty, racial tension, injustice, civil strife, ecological disaster, corporate domination, a hated Vietnam War and much more, drugs seemed an odd choice.

  In 1973, New York Governor, Nelson Rockefeller passed  The Rockefeller Drug Laws  which included mandatory minimum jail sentences for possession of drugs and made it impossible for judges to be lenient in certain cases.The bullshit ideology behind the campaign was a means of suppressing and punishing Black Africans for having survived slavery. The “war” sought to systematically exploit us long after official slavery had been outlawed.

The Devil Himself  and His Epic Fail

After the Watergate scandal we they brought in the devil: Ronald Reagan. Public concern over illicit drug use during the 1980’s was largely due to media portrayals of black people addicted to crack-cocaine. Black men were in the forefront.


The prison population quadrupled between 1980 and 2000 due entirely to stiffer sentencing policies, not necessarily more crime. More than half of Americans in prison are being held captive for drug-related offenses –  possession. Minorities make up a disproportionately large part of those in prison for drug offenses despite the fact that they don’t use drugs any more than white Americans.  Enter the mass incarceration of Black African’s – Slavery 2.0.

Slavery 2.0

Documentaries, movies, books, and television shows direct our attention to the issue of mass incarceration in this country. Donald Trump and his posse of pussies state that the economy is failing because jobs going to Hispanic immigrants. These “jobs” that he speaks of are being given to those in prison.

Many of the top retailers in the Amerikka take advantage of prison labor. Those organic potatoes or fancy, lack panties are products of prison labor. The likes of Whole Foods, McDonald’s, Wal-Mart, Starbucks and Victoria Secret are making millions off of prisoners – slaves. Prisoners are out in the field, or in the factory, for 8-10 hours a day and there aren’t any bathroom or lunch breaks. Could you imagine doing your job and earning a mere $0.45/hour? You probably couldn’t. An inmate working 8 hours a day, 5 days a week earns a scraggly $18.00 a week. Now imagine taking that same $18 to the commissary. A roll of tissue will cost you $5, toothpaste is $3.50 and food items cost $5 each.

The “workers” are not only cheap labor but are considered easier to control. Companies are free to avoid providing benefits like health insurance or sick days. They also don’t fret over unions, demands for vacation time, pay raises or family issues.

Something needs to and has to change.

#NOSPOILERALERTS‼️‼️‼️‼️#orangeisthenewblack is a show about the ever growing problem here in #Amerikka and that's #MassIncarceration. Fuck a #piperchapman – it stopped being about her two years ago. I applaud the #writers and directors of the show #jenjikohan who are using an #international platform, such as #Netflix to bring light of this serious issue. It's not about the "criminal acts" but rather the inhumane and selfishness of the those "at the top". ✊🏾✊🏾 ___________________________________________ #theother1percent #SheLived #BrittneySmith #fightthepower #strongerinnumbers #ointb #prisonpipeline #slavery #13thamendment #america #amerikkka #sharecroppers #chaingang #libya #prisonisslavery #prison #prisoners #mcc #writer #poet #artist

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Photo Cred: Shelived_blog instagram, the Atlantic Black Star,, and Youtube

Me, Them and Y’all

And It Never Fails

Sexism and colorism while working in a professional kitchen emphasized the reality of me, them and y’all. Six to eight hours surrounded by those who neither looked like me or spoke the same language. At times could be emotionally draining and detrimental to my mental state. Frustration collided with incompetency more times than men lie. Sharing them with management met no prevail.

The First Sit-Down Taught Me:

I remember the first meeting I had with the higher-ups. My 30-day review had come up and it was time to discuss the job and my performance thus far. By now, they too had become aware of the tension in the kitchen. I expressed that as the only Black individual employed and the only woman in the back-house was a cause for complications. As passively aggressive pale men in their mid 30’s and 40’s they had answers for everything. They matched my statement by acknowledging the older women who prep in the mornings. I responded that they do not work in the blazing heat on the line nor during the dinner rush hours. Those women also don’t stand on the same field as me for they speak the language – Spanish.


In the field is Team Spanish versus Team English. Them against me. I am a woman enclosed with knives, blood, fire and frail egos. Some of the Hispanic males speak English and all the pale men know some jargon. I, however, am solely devoted to one team. In the field, collectively, we play defense against the quantity of orders coming in. Often it is a trial attempting to communicate intricate and fairly complicated food orders with a language barrier. As a result, we are constantly on the offense with each other.  I can say I wouldn’t have been extremely particular of another woman’s nationality. Preferably an English speaker.

Everything You Are You Owe to A Woman

A woman, regardless of her race, could have able to tell me what to expect from who. Which of these guys throw curve balls? Who also plays for our team? Which ones have slippery fingers? Who thinks he’s goddamn Danny Zuko? As a woman I have must be stronger, louder, faster. A routine showdown with sexism. Given that my emotions cannot compel me yet firmly stand my ground.

The threat of a capable woman results in the labeling of the word “bitch”. The inconvenient truth of the matter is had my vagina been a dick there would be nothing to discuss, no matter what color it was. The pale men say it’s because of their strong Hispanic culture. Women are not recognized outside of being devoted mothers and caregivers. In other words, women are mundane broads. This truth is apparently not of too much interest to the pale men.

But To be a Black Woman…

Being the only Black African* on the scene often times causes me to second guess myself. I constantly am self-consciously considering my blackness: ‘Be aggressive but not ghetto. Speak loud and clear but don’t be too loud. Always show up on time. Is my natural hair presentable? Yo B, they don’t know you, you can’t go awf like that. The Chef and Sous Chef, along with the front of the house, are Caucasian. There are two mixed-race women, an African woman, and two unidentified men. To sum it up they enjoy bun-less black bean burgers, have unhealthy fascinations with cats and oddly placed geometric tattoos. The women dress like it is either 1972 or 1993. A clusterfuck of hipster, pale quagmires.


I recently engaged in yet another tedious and dramatically stale clambake to attempt to release some pressure. In uniform fashion, the majority of my narrative was met with rebuttals. I walked back to the kitchen and filled orders but eventually, I had broken down. Again faced with the adversity of being a Black African and a woman; filled with so much anxiety, fury and defeat I skidded to the bathroom, sat on the floor and cried. I gave myself 3 minutes to plummet grief into my lap then dust that shit off. I stood in front of the mirror and reminded myself why I’m here. This isn’t my dream, I don’t want to someday run this place. Get this money.

The Greatest Gift & Curse of All

For all these reasons I will never forget the first time, I sat down to discuss the job. I casually pointed out that this particular job has its controversy because of the inescapable “double negatives” of being a Black Woman. They looked at each other, looked back at me and spoke passively transparent in agreement that, “I guess I, or we, never saw it that way“.

Funny how that seems to be the only thing I see – me, them and y’all.

Photo Cred:,

Dear Soul Mother…

Dear Unapologetic Soul Mother

Do you remember me? I am your great, great-granddaughter and we sat next to each other on the train one late afternoon, sometime around three? I am not certain where you were going but I was on my way to work. We met during the metro’s passage through Collegeville. You looked to your left and turned to your right only to find no available seating that did not require you to share it with some pale-faced juvenile. You saw me and you smiled; I smiled back to my dear soul mother.

I moved over to make room for you sit and rest your tribal bones. Together we rode next to one another in complete and utter silence and it absolutely broke my heart. I am sorry and disgusted at my lack of culture that couldn’t allow me to engage in a simple verbal exchange with you.

A marvelously regal woman.

Ingrained in your skin was more knowledge than all the libraries in the world, more grace than the whitest swans. Your spirit and soul are certainly mighty forces to reckoned with. I am the humblest I have ever been in your presence. Your essence alluded that of my great-grandmother. A woman who had given birth to a tribe all her own, seen more death and dying that us all and who bore the weight of her faith so deep in her heart that it showed on her face.

However, unlike my biological great-grandmother, you come from Africa – the motherland to us all. I want to know what it was like growing up as a girl walking to the market to fetch water from the well. It is essential to my womanhood that I know what region you are from and how on Earth you got here. The only stories I ever heard are those of racism and segregation; slavery, poverty, and crime. Our people are abundantly superhuman and yet it seems that we are always reduced down to fleas.

Unapologetic Soul Mother, you would never tell those types of stories.

The wisdom, magic, and power invested in you are dying with you. We must capture it before it is too late! You deserve to live on forever through the legacy all the daughters that are to come after you. I want to bottle up your memories, failures, loves, and dreams. How did you treat a stomach virus? What keeps the children crying late into the hours? What is your proudest moment? And how many men have you ever truly loved?

I can admit that I haven’t always felt this way about my great-grandmother and I assume it’s because I took her granted. Subconsciously I always knew that I could talk to her and that was a sorry mistake. There are so many things I want to ask her and yet now she can barely even remember my name. I couldn’t even talk to you if I tried; I don’t know my native tongue.

And for that I am sorry.

Photo Cred: Pinterest

Brock Turner: We Are “More Than A Number”

Brock Turner, a Stanford University swimmer, was convicted of raping an unconscious woman on campus. Since athletes love statistics let’s talk numbers. Women are more than a number.

33% of girls are molested before the age of eighteen.

This is the time in her life where she should be young, care-free and fantasizing about being prom queen; watching reality shows and rocking the hottest clothes, not being taken advantage of by someone she knows.

1/3 of those cases involve children under twelve; babies who don’t quite understand what’s happening or big enough to shield themselves. Instead of enjoying their childhood and cavorting in the park they are now afraid of any and everything that goes bump in the dark. Ever wonder how many hold this confidential information – we’ll never know it because 65% of these cases go unreported. But to give you a hint 1 in every 4 girls is the noted statistic.

And much the same, 1 in every 4 women will experience domestic violence;

insecurities and frustrations being mourned in silence. Raised voices bring trepidation and you have nowhere to turn; fire in his eyes while he sits and watches you burn. 1 in every 5 teens gets told the “I hit you because I love you” lie. Well, I’m here to tell you that ain’t shit to love nor is it charming to have a black eye. People, places, and organizations exist to offer a safe environment but where are they when 3 women die every day due to domestic violence?

Every 2 minutes someone in the United States is raped and that’s probably because the U.S. has the world’s highest rape rate. This is not something to go gloating about but this a message that we have to stop ignoring and doing without. 1 out of every 4 women in college will be raped. So when it used to be all about B.A.’s and PhD’s it’s now become getting d-r-a-i-n-e-d off liquor and GHB. We maintain a society where men still prevail because 15 out of 16 rapists will never spend a day in jail. 18.8% of rape victims are black women – we get sought out for our hips and thighs and how they fit in our denim.

Women and young ladies who bear hardship to those exploitations are:

3 times more likely to suffer from depression; 4 times more likely to contemplate suicide

6 times more likely to suffer from post-traumatic stress; 13 times more likely to abuse alcohol and 26 times more likely to abuse drugs. 90% of abusers know the victim that much is a guarantee and is case you disagree allow me to introduce you to me: at age 8 is was the older boy from across the hall, when I was 17 it was the bad boy who was so smooth he made me fall and at 18 – the boy that I didn’t really know at all.

You don’t know what kinds of survivors exist among you and we’re never supposed to talk about it because apparently, the topic is too taboo so something has to change because those experiences are horrendous to live through…but I’m just one person with one voice and one story that needed to be introduced with the optimism that my experiences won’t be reduced. It doesn’t characterize who I am nor does it station me beneath another. But for those who stand parallel to me – we are not victims who drown in our misfortunes, charity cases that require pity or statistics because the last time I checked I wasn’t a fucking number. We are human beings, diamonds, and exquisite pearls.

We are women – who rule the world.

By: Brittney Smith

Audio is Available – Press Play!

Photo Cred:

“Ssh…be quiet”

Ssh…be quiet

I can hear your feet drag across the floor; hear the door close from you checking the closet. I remember when I first met you. I was out Christmas shopping. The way you stood before me with pure confidence, striking poise and shoulders that would’ve even made the Gods jealous.

I was so mesmerized by the way you would say my name, hold my hand and at night – showed me how much you cared. I would lie in your arms and imagine our entire lives together. The house, the cars, the money and of course the kids, so many kids – but what I could never imagine was this…

Ssh…be quiet

Each stride you take up the stairs feels like a gun being shot in my eardrums I’ve never heard a sound so loud…I could never imagine the manipulations, the limitations, screaming contests, broken dishes, holes in the wall – the power.

…We grew up together. He was the first boy I’d ever kissed; we went to homecoming together – Prom. We even sat next to each other at graduation. If it hadn’t been for college we would still be together. If only I hadn’t been so eager to leave our small town then maybe – just maybe I wouldn’t have met you.

Ssh…be quiet

You open our daughter’s room! You have the audacity to think that I would put her in any form of danger? Leave her sleeping peacefully disconnected from this somber place she calls home.

….I remember the first time it happened. It was our anniversary and we had yet another one of our infamous blow ups. You told me that I would be nothing without you and that without you I wouldn’t be draped in such exquisite gems and couture garments. I vowed to never ask you for anything ever again and as I proceeded to remove the one thing that held us together, I felt the burning sting being planted on my cheek.

A sense of disbelief poured over me as the blood drained from my face. I told you I was leaving and never coming back, taking our daughter to go on and start a new life without you. It was in that moment that you looked so childlike and my motherly instincts kicked into high gear. I had to be there for you. You promised to never do it again. You gave me your word. You. 

Ssh…be quiet

You closed her door and, again, drag your feet ever so slowly calling my name. I’ve never been so intimidated in my life.

He came over earlier today to accompany me for my birthday – an intimate moment you stopped celebrating years ago. As the blended poison flowed through my body I expressed to him how I missed his touch, that I missed being back home – it’s been too long since I’ve last seen him and how if I could I would make a different decision. I hadn’t felt that loved in such a long time. He pulled me close; I inhaled his scent and in you walked…

Ssh…be quiet

I can hear you open the door to our bedroom; my heart begins to pound so violently that I feel a hole forming in my chest. I’m aware of my fate before it even happens. The look of death in your eyes, the vein protruding from your temples, the way your mouth is half-open as if you were breathing in my soul…You beat him away so bad to the point that his body would never be recognized. It was in that moment that I proceeded to hide and grab my only way out, now I sit in this closet…


Ssh…be quiet

My mind is filled with so many thoughts. How much I hate you, how much I need you, how much I love you. The voices in my head get louder and louder and I feel like they are screaming at me – you are screaming at me – making a mockery of me.

What happened to me?

I am not this woman.

This doesn’t happen to women like me.

I’m smart, sophisticated, attractive.

This is not what I imagined us to be.

The clinking sound of your belt coming off indicates that this will be one of if not the worst but it most definitely be my last. You walk slowly across the room to the closet where I am hiding and I know that it is all over.

Ssh…be quiet

I can see the shadows of your feet standing outside the door.

How did it come to this?

We used to be so happy, you and me – and it suddenly all went away.

But as I hold this steel in my hands, “be quiet” is what I tell myself. Stop thinking, everything will be over soon, there’s nothing more that can be done to me. I won’t give you the satisfaction of taking away my last breath. My pride won’t let you do that for I must do it myself.

The door has opened and I know that my life is over, but as these tears fall from my face and trail themselves down to my bosom, tell My daughter

I love her…

But mommy just couldn’t be strong anymore – my brain has stopped functioning, my heart is black and my soul is dead because I no longer love the way you lie…


By: Brittney Smith

Audio is Available – Press Play!

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I Was Fired on Martin Luther King Day

Two days ago, January 18th, 2016 – also known as Martin Luther King Day

I got fired; there was no legitimate reason. On Martin Luther King day, yall! I started working at a salon owned by two creative colored haired, tattoo-bearing white women. I saw the ad on Craigslist and almost didn’t go but I knew I needed a job so I met with them for the scheduled interview. They needed someone with self-managing experience, a customer service background and someone who was all-around fun. If you know me personally then you know that this is SO me. I was offered the position and needed to report to work the following Monday. I was yearning to start my first gig in the salon. Since the day I graduated from [massage] school I had been desperate to get a job in the industry. Now was my time to shine! It’s a new year and I’m off to a good start.

Ordinarily, in your first two weeks working a new job you take that time to familiarize yourself with the logistics. It’s too soon to be the social butterfly in the break room. As a receptionist, my core objectives are to tend to the duties specified for that particular day. I answered the phones, greeted clients, made coffee and did laundry. I remember when I met the head receptionist – she had been out of work that first week due to hurting her back and I covered her shifts. She was also pregnant and therefore incapable of doing any bending or heavy lifting. I asked her we how should divide the tasks each day and she said to do anything that she hadn’t checked off. She also told me that I was only scheduled for three hours that particular day as not to sweat it all.

White Witches

Personally, however, I knew that I wanted to do a stellar job because I genuinely fancied my work so everything needed to be checked off the list. Now in two weeks, I do believe that I’m allowed to make minor, and I do mean minor mistakes. During my first Saturday shift, the coffee had run out. It was close to the end of the night so I was asked to only make half a pot. I absent-mindedly used an entire pitcher of water resulting in weak coffee; first major offense.

My next violation came the second week when I accidentally put shampoo in a conditioner bottle and vice versa. Now even though I’ve never worked in a salon before I have a hankering that it’s something that happens at least every other month. The last straw for them, I assume, was when they noticed streaks on the floor that illuminated when the sun reflected off the floorboards. They conjured it to not thoroughly mopping or because the water was too dirty. The truth is that I forgot the dustpan on the bench and walked through to get it – remopping over my footprints; Martin Luther King day.

Martin Turning Over in His Grave

I went to work that day with a smile on my face, kush in my lungs and Mac Miller’s GO:OD AM in my ears. When I arrived they gave me “the talk”. They sat across from me, looked me in the eye and said, “we have noticed some inconsistencies in your work and don’t see the girl we interviewed, therefore, we have to let you go.”

There was never a moment prior where they wanted to know how I felt about my first two weeks. Never a moment before where they wanted to formally address their concerns and grant me the opportunity to properly correct them. None of that. It was simply, ‘we don’t feel like you should be here anymore’. And it hurt. They had already made up in their pale minds, together, to cancel out my black ass.

Lemme Get This Straight

Seriously?! I greeted every soul that walked past my desk. Every single client was asked their name, offered a beverage and showed a place to sit while they wait. Was that not engaged enough? It wasn’t my job to sit next to them on the couch and ask what magazine they decided on and why. Perhaps I wasn’t fully associating with the stylists? However, between me washing dishes, folding clothes and them cutting and blow drying hair who had the time for small talk? The salon did well for itself – I checked the numbers – not one stylist is just sitting around playing with their brushes.

Saturday was the holiday staff party and the distillery. Y’all know I love a great glass of Red or a hot-shot of Whiskey. That would’ve been the time to bond and join a sisterhood of friendship. I never got formally introduced to the team. I was friends with one of the owners on Facebook and shared a few pro-black posts and mentioned the site once or twice. Am I too black? My writing content is not for everyone, particularly white women, but I know they couldn’t have been that salty.

I don’t know what or why or who is behind these white women trying me.

I do, however, know that fixating on it will hinder my personal happiness and I’m not here for it. My life assignment is to take my existence, digest it and then rescan the menu to find something else worth ordering up. It is also to be conscious and attentive to my personal contentment. I allowed myself 24 hours to drink and drown my distress all awhile being elevated beyond the clouds. And I’m not going to talk about anymore.

Boy, I tell you – at the end of it all there’s no way they won’t be able to say that SheLived.

Photo Cred:
black lives matter

Who is Black Lives Matter Mpls?

On December 22nd, 2015, Black Lives Matter Mpls held their first official meeting

All Black folks and identifying POC’s were to attend and become enlightened on exactly who we are and what we do. A meeting for Black Lives Matter Allied Supporters took place at a separate site where they, too, could brainstorm how to aid Black leadership. Michael McDowell, Kandace Montgomery, and Miski Noor – all founders of the chapter, covered topics such as history, guiding principles, demands and leadership.
 Black Lives Matter (BLM) Mpls emerged after the non-indictment of officer Darren Wilson on November 24th, 2014 for the murder of Mike Brown. Black people started emailing one another, having the conversation about what could be done. In March of 2015, BLM Mpls organized a coalition march on Lake Street as a response.
At this time there was a national call to shut down highways where BLM Mpls occupied Highway 55; and I-35 to support the fast food workers strike. With solid connections with leaders in both New York and Ferguson, BLM Mpls became one of the 32 chapters making up the Black Lives Matter Movement Network – which has extended internationally.

What Do We Want – When Do We Want It

Since last year, and to the present day, BLM Mpls has been worked on building infrastructure and increasing Black power in Minneapolis. It has far too often been falsely reported that we do not have any demands. That is a lie:
  1. Release the Tapes – as we saw in the case of Laquan McDonald in Chicago there is a reason the tapes aren’t released until after the trial. We want the tapes now.
  2. No Grand Jury – this is where cases drive off to die considering there is only a three percent indictment rate. We want a special prosecutor.
  3. Invest in Black Future’s a.k.a. Reparations – stop funding private prisons and police and instead reinvest in our community. We want our money.

BLM Mpls is constructing a Black Agenda.

Current leaders would like to extend leadership opportunities to use every person, strength, and talent that will benefit the movement! BLM Mpls now consists of six departments:
  • Fundraising – meeting financial needs of the organization in ways of merchandise purchasing, member dues, door-to-door fundraising, etc.
  • Arts & Culture – building black centered spaces that show respect to digital art, theatre, spoken word and street art.
  • Communications – telling our story the correct way within our community and the media
  • Healing Justice – creating safe places to unpack issues within the Black community
  • Community Outreach – intentional and diligent community service
  • Youth – establishing service in and through education and creating youth-friendly spaces

It is our duty to fight for our freedom. It is our duty to win. We must love each other and support each other. We have nothing to lose but our chains.

You are now caught up.

Photo Cred:

#Justice4Jamar at the #4tPrecinctShutDown

On November 23, 2015

Late in the night, no more than two blocks away from the fourth precinct – five unarmed Black protestors were shot by three male white supremacists. Video footage of the incident surfaced on the Facebook page for Black Lives Matter Minneapolis (BLMM) as well as footage of the alleged men en route to the said crime. For the past week activists and supporters from the community camped outside of the precinct demanding #Justice4Jamar – Jamar Clark, an unarmed Black male shot in the head while handcuffed behind his back.

After the terrorist attacks, BLMM responded, “we need you out here…we will not be intimidated. #Justice4Jamar March tomorrow 2pm.”

I took to the internet

for more information about the terrorist attacks and threats imposed upon the civil rights group and their supporters. I had to be fully ready for any and everything that could face them us while we marched. I sat and pondered if participating was something that I even wanted to do. Atlas, it was the human being in me that realized this is life – history; and it’s better to have been present than hear about it in the future.

After the terroristic violence that brought toward BLMM the authorities stated that the longer they we were out here the worse it would get. Is that a….nother threat? Why should we have to go home?

Comments on the civil right’s group Facebook page, as well as other social media sites, depicts the Black Lives Matter movement as thugs, looters, and criminals. That’s the same thing they said about the Black Panthers…

And I can’t tell you how many times I have heard from young and old people alike, both black and white, that if only we cared about “black-on-black” crime…


Every great movement like this needs a soundtrack. Selma had one. As we marched forward Drake, Kanye and Kendrick rippled through the city. Why “rap” music? Well like the girl on the truck said: “this movement is being led by young people and if this is the music that gets’s us motivated – we shall play it.” When we die, each person who attended will become legends because we understand that no one man should have all that power and that as long as God got us, n*gga we gon be alright.

We hiked up hills and over bridges with our chants and praises; arms intertwined.

We proceeded until we came to the spot where a 10-year-old was maced by police:

Someone in the crowd exclaimed “All Lives Matter”. Someone shouted back, ‘take your ass across the way with that bullsh*t’. Message to the white people in the crowd:

  1. Do not tell me how to be black. A struggle that which you have and shall never endure because of white privilege, and
  2. Advocate that we do not require police supervision in our communities. It takes them hours to show up and yet you can’t get two blocks without being stopped and harassed.

I remember just last Christmas laying down in the snow, blocking traffic and police, in remembrance of Mike Brown and the several hours they left his body in the street. I turned to my brother and said that it could our city at any moment.

This time it was.

Where to next?


He Tried My Life


“You’re Hair is too Good for You to JUST be Black”

Yesterday, I was in a chicken and gyro joint waiting on my order when an employee comes over. He tried my life when he asked, “are you Jamaican?”

“No, why would I be Jamaican?” I said.

“Well, where are you from?” he asked.

I titled my head a little to the left because at this point I am confused and say, “I’m from America.”

“But where are you from?”

See, all I want to do is wait on my chicken with the jerk sauce on the side but I’m being harassed with geography questions. “I really don’t understand what you trying to ask me; I’m black.”

To which he replies, “so you’re not from Africa?”

“My ancestors….”

“Really, what country?”

Unfortunately, as a Black-American, my history, culture, and traditions were stolen, therefore, I do not know. However, I believe that statement was a light bulb moment for him because his eyes get wide as if he’s incredibly surprised,

“Oh, I get it. You are black. I thought you were either Caribbean or Jamaican”

“Cats out the bag. You got me!”

“….because of my hair?”


That Ain’t No Damn Compliment

First of all, let say that I all the way offended. Can’t you simply be black and simultaneously beautiful? You have to be something else, you have to need to mixed with something because — just black, nah. It’s so ridiculous that black women have to entertain these concepts and ideologies.

I know someone who is preparing to go natural and they said, “going natural ain’t for everybody…like me”. Here’s the skinny: when you go natural you are so liberated and free that you will be getting your complete and utter life! I love this shit. I’m getting better with it, learning new things and I think going natural is an experience that every black woman should have.

Stay With It

Getting back on track – Some might take it as a compliment that he thought I looked ‘exotic’ or another type of bullshit. Bish, what you mean? Honey, I’m a black woman and let that be all the information you need.  You don’t know a nann ‘nother species with more beautiful women than those with that melanin. I’m sorry, [No I’m not] I said it, [Yes I did]. Don’t even care, [Nope!]. What you gon do? [Shit].



February 12th: NAACP

The  NAACP is the nation’s oldest, largest and most widely recognized civil rights organization.

With more than half a million members and supporters around the world the NAACP advocates for civil rights in communities, equal opportunity, and voter mobilization.

The race riot of 1908 in Springfield, Illinois signaled a plea for help in the community and called for a sit-down. 60 people, including W.E.B. Du Bois and Ida B. Wells, signed the call. The NAACP’s primary objective was to ensure the political, educational, social and economic equality of minorities in the United States.

In 1910, the organization established its national office in New York City where Moorfield Storey, a white constitutional lawyer, sat as president. At the time, the only African-American among the executives was W.E.B. Du Bois who established their official journal, The Crisis. Today, The Crisis is one of the oldest black periodicals in America and continues to be a respected journal of thought, opinion, and analysis.

Laying the Foundation

By 1913, the NAACP had established branch offices in Boston, Baltimore, Washington, D.C. and Detroit. By 1919 membership had grown to 90,000 members with more than 300 local branches. During the Great Depression, they focused on economic equality as the decline had affected African-Americans more than others. The 1940’s saw a surge in membership as they continued to act as legislative and legal advocates.

The NAACP worked diligently during the civil rights movement and succeeded in abiding by their mission. In 1954, headed by Thurgood Marshall, the NAACP Legal Defense and Educational Fund saw victory in winning Brown v Board of Education.This outlawed segregation in public schools, as well as the passage of several Civil Rights Acts and the Voting Rights Act of 1965. Despite all the victories, these were very trying times for African-Americans and especially for members of the NAACP. The unsolved house bombing of Harry T. Moore and the murder of Mississippi Field Secretary Medgar Evers were in retaliation. During this time the NAACP continued to offer legal representation, aid and even posted bail for Freedom Riders.

The Legacy Lives On Today

As millions of African-American’s continue to live in poverty, are preyed upon and face racial segregation throughout the United States, the NAACP is still needed and relevant. I could never truly capture the essence that is everything that the NAACP stood and stands for. I hope you know more than you before through my commentary or the links that I have provided.

Photo Cred: Twitter,

Happy Birthday Trayvon Martin

Trayvon Benjamin Martin was born today in Florida to Sybrina Fulton and Tracy Martin in 1995.

On February 26th, 2012, George Zimmerman, stalked and preyed upon Trayvon. Zimmerman called the police at 7:09 PM and was instructed not to follow. However, Zimmerman proceeded to engage in a physical fight and ultimately shot Martin in the chest. Trayvon Martin did not carry a weapon and was less than 100 yards away from home. On July 13th, 2013, George Zimmerman was acquitted of murder. Today, Trayvon Martin would have been 20 years old.

Rest in Power

The media painted Trayvon out as a “thug”, “gangsta” and troublemaker. News outlets stressed his school suspension, he smoked marijuana and posed in pictures with his middle finger. Regardless of whether these things are true: wearing a bandana doesn’t automatically make you a banger. I do believe Rosie the Riveter wore a bandana, was she cuz or blood? Flicking off in a photo doesn’t make you reckless. Celebrities flip the finger all the time just so their picture can’t be used by paparazzi. And smoking a little weed damn sure doesn’t nominate a life up for the taking. Present me with a human being, dead or alive, that has never actually smoked weed OR caught a contact. Don’t worry, I’ll wait.

In recent months since the death of Trayvon Martin, we have seen the senseless, careless, racist, slaughtering of young, unarmed black men and women by racist bystanders and police forces. Mike Brown, Tamir Rice, Eric Gardner. It just really makes you wonder who’s side is God on because if it ain’t us [black people] then hell really is here on earth, in Police State, USA.

Trayvon: May you rest in peace. May you rest in paradise. We will never forget you.


February 3rd: The 15th Amendment

Did You Know?

On February 3rd, 1870, the 15th Amendment to the American Constitution was ratified. The right for citizens of the United States to vote shall not be denied or abridged by the United States or by any state on account of race, color, or previous condition of servitude.

Trivia Time!

One day after the ratification, Thomas Mundy Peterson became the first African-American to vote under its authority? That same year, Hiram Rhoades Revels became the first African-American ever to sit in the U.S. Congress?

Rock the Vote – Does it Count?

Unfortunately, despite the amendment, southern states effectively nullified the 14th amendment thus stripping black people their right to vote. To prevent them from voting, southern states exercised discriminatory practices including poll taxes, literacy test and, of course, violence. This is AmeriKKKa.

It wasn’t until racist President Lyndon B. Johnson signed the Voting Rights Act on August 6th, 1965 to save face after the historical march to Selma, Alabama led by Martin Luther King Jr.  Participants attacked with nightsticks, tear gas and whips by Alabama state troopers were on national television.

Make Your Voice HEARD

The act banned the use of literacy tests; provided federal oversight of voter registration and authorized the U.S. attorney general to investigate the use of poll taxes. Southern states dispersed weak state and local law enforcement guaranteeing African-Americans the right to vote. This, however, did not prevent black citizens from challenging voting restrictions and voter turnout improved dramatically.

Today, African-American can vote, however, much like Ferguson and modern-day lynchings, black men are still being kept away from the polls – mass incarceration.


Police State, USA

I just watched Fruitvale Station for the first time tonight and….

May God forever be with Oscar Grant and the millions of black people who are murdered by the hands of a police officer. For a police officer, 11 months in prison “justice” for taking the life of an innocent man, however, a black man is sentenced to 5 years just for having a dime bag; taking away his human rights and options for survival as a convicted felon. Where is the justice in that? There is no justice when you live in a Police State, USA.

Omali Yeshitela Said…

“But the reality is…the police become necessary in human society only at that junction in human society where it is split between those who have and those who ain’t got.”

Tonight, I also watched Nelson Mandela starring Idris Elba. It’s completely disgusting how white people all over the world have a deep-rooted hatred for black people. You know, it severely makes my ass itch when people, either black or white, say, “well, that’s not all white people”. Yes, it is.

Under their judgment we are all thugs; lazy bums who will rape their women, kill their children and rob their homes. You’re going to tell me that I cannot stereotype a white person because of the color of their skin?

Long Ways Back to Africa

White people have a taught hatred because of how powerful they know black people genuinely are. If only black people, especially in America, would join to fight off the oppressor. We will never do anything or get anywhere on this long walk to freedom if we are not organized.

It was Africa that which life originated from but your history book doesn’t say that. It was the Africans who invented math and had already explored the stars; they forgot that part too. They have established cities, universities and paved roads in Africa; indoor plumbing, thriving communities and beautiful scenery. Yet the only images they show you contain starving children, drinking murky water, in tattered clothes, swatting away mosquitoes infected with West Nile Virus. Why is that?

Everything You Know is a Lie

Why is it that the only images of Jesus show a blue-eyed, blond-haired white man? How are Egyptians considered white people when Egypt is undeniably in Africa? Is there a reason Annie why can’t be black? Is it because the religion that slave masters forced fed the slaves had an image that which resembled the master; because black people couldn’t possibly be kings or queens. Are you saying little black girls should not have a positive role model in their age bracket?

The reality is white people are actually the minority. The reality is that white people are in fact the inferior race however as long as black people remain divided, white people will continue to enslave Americans through capitalism/white supremacy. Back when Christopher Columbus vacationed in the western hemisphere ( he didn’t “discover” shit) there were about 70 million white people on the planet and well over 200 million Native Americans and Indians. However, by the late 1800’s, 98% of them died due to disease-infested blankets offered as gifts.

Fight the Power!

There is no regard for black life as we saw the accounts of Oscar Grant, Trayvon Martin, Eric Garner, Mike Brown, Tamir Rice, John Crawford III, Yvette Smith, Kimani Gray, Shantel Davis, Aiyana Jones and far too many more. Murderers are free to roam this bloodstained land while their beautiful, black bodies lay rigid on the ground.

The police, the courts, the states – the country, doesn’t offer black people an explanation, therefore, we have no power. They want us marching peacefully. Perhaps, they suggest that we should not sag our pants or play our music so loud. They tell us that possibly we should stay in school, go to college, get careers and become model citizens. Well, we can’t do that when senseless rap music is on constant replay. That will never happen when the schools aren’t teaching you shit and modeled after the prison system. We aren’t “model citizens” in a society that is now not yet designed for our success.

No, my black people, the system didn’t fail – the system worked and that is exactly what the problem is. I don’t know about you, but I’m not singing not a nan-nother negro spiritual trying to overcome in this racist country. Fuck I look like convincing the klansman and all the other men who took part in the kidnapping of my people that they should like me? Miss me with the Al Sharpton bullshit.


Photo,, &

It’s Not a Conspiracy if It’s Not a Secret


I’m on social media frequently to observe and there one word that keeps coming up in these conversations is “conspiracy”. Unfortunately, it used entirely out of context. Let’s start off with some working definitions:

Conspire (v): to agree together, especially secretly, to do something wrong, evil or illegal.

Conspiracy (n): an evil, unlawful, treacherous, or surreptitious plan formulated in secret by two or more persons; plot

Top 5ish

  • Was Lee Harvey Oswald the only shooter? Perhaps even the shooter?
  • Were American government agencies behind the 9/11 “terrorist” attack?
  • Is there really life on Mars?
  • Is Shakespeare a fraud?
  • The Bible?

The above questions are examples of a conspiracy. White police officers are not indicted, or even arrested, for the slaughtering of black people. It is not a conspiracy. It is a blatant disrespect and disregard for life, therefore, making it inhumane. It’s racism at it’s finest.

You Already Turned the Other Cheek — Now Turn It Back

Let’s be honest, ladies and gentlemen, most black people, after the original civil rights movement, looked the other way when it came racism in AmeriKKKa. They “let” us eat in their restaurants, they “let” us move into their neighborhoods, they “granted” us the same education as their children. Black people took their 40 acres, mule and truly believed that they had made it.

Inconvenient truth: we should have stayed separate. Why? Malcolm said, “segregation is that which is forced upon an inferior by a superior – separation is done voluntarily by two equals”. Why did we fight so hard to be apart of their society when they made it very clear that they never wanted us in it? To this very day, they don’t want us shopping in their stores, date their children – they don’t want us ALIVE. White AmeriKKKa has brainwashed a substantial amount of black people into buying into the concept of “new black”. New black, old black – black is black. White AmeriKKKa will never let you forget it; so don’t.

It Could Be Any One of Us

Can you believe you will be shot for rushing your daughter home because she has asthma? It can happen while riding the train on New Year’s Eve. You can be shot for walking home carrying snack from the corner store. You will be shot for simply being ALIVE.

The KKK wasn’t a secret; they want it to be known that they hate black people; AmeriKKKa really wants you to believe they all just perished. As in completely fell off the face of the Earth. No, no, they just took off their white, pointy hoods and put on $5000 suits. They became our teachers, congressmen and, of course, police officers. Currently, in AmeriKKKa a white man can be recorded killing a black person and still make it home in time for dinner.  Your victim lays dead in the street.

What I want to know is how the white man, with the blood of black people dripping off his fingers, can have the audacity to be asking black people, “Do they hate him?” That takes a lot of nerve. – Malcolm X

Photo cred:instagram

108 Days for a “Not Guilty” Mike Brown Verdict

It’s yet another sad day in AmeriKKKa for African-American citizens

Mike Brown’s death won’t be avenged by those who sit on Capitol Hill but rather in our communities. 108 days. We aren’t playing checkers – this is wizards chess. When the national guard can make it to Ferguson before they made it to Katrina you know something’s up. They would let us drown and starve before they arrest a white officer for murder; it’s time for a REVOLUTION. They say the Black community needs a voice – keep reading.

Racism in AmeriKKKa:

The country built on the genocide, rape, and murder of hundreds of millions does not have a conscious. We look to them for justice? A white male officer slaughtered a young, black male in cold blood in broad daylight; they don’t give a fuck. This is the same country that wants you to focus on the riots happening in the Middle East and China. They distract you with the Ebola outbreak and the disappearance of North Korea’s dictator Kim Jung Ho.

This is the same country that teaches young children how terrible it was for Hitler to kill thousands of Jewish people. This is the same AmeriKKKa that claims to spread justice worldwide and it doesn’t exist in its own country. When it’s time to speak on the negativity that has governed AmeriKKKa since the beginning of time they will silence you.

They shove cameras in our faces, stand in foreign countries and shout, “look at what’s happening in China!” or “did you see the terrorists in Iraq?” There are no soldiers in Ferguson standing with the community but instead, they were in Clayton surrounding white people and their businesses. No one protected the peaceful protestors from the tear gas getting thrown at them or the protestors from rubber bullets. This is supposed to be a country for all the people by all the people. Unfortunately, all I see is a country for its’ white citizens governed by its’ white citizens sending whitewashed black people out to the masses. These people work in our schools, live next door to us, run our libraries, sit in Congress – racist white people did not vanish, they simply learned how to blend in.

Black on Black Crime:

I’ve seen so many ignorant people on social media say, “well, blacks kill black all the time” and I really loved this one, “people in Chicago dying every day and nobody cares”. Let me explain something to every person who dared spew those words from their lips: Black people kill black people – white people kill white people, please have a seat; we care about the Black men in Chicago, we really do, have another seat.

The hatred, frustrated and problem lie in the unjustice system. If a black man shoots another black man you can expect him to go to jail. If a black person does any bodily harm to a white person, you can rest assured that life is over for that person. Darren Wilson’s life is not over – Mike Brown’s is. He will never live a day working his dream job, he will never get married but Darren Wilson was able to do all of those things and never pay for his crimes.

Black lives have always mattered and they always will – just not to the people who sit at the top of the pyramid. We are outraged at the message they are sending that at any given time and for any reason at all, a white person can kill a black person and face no consequences. I don’t want to hear another black person say that we don’t care because we have cared for all our time in this country. This isn’t new to black folks.


Black people are being slaughtered at an alarming rate and it’s making history. After hearing his speech, I am a firm believer (my mind won’t be changed) that Obama spoke like he’s running for a third term. Well, what more could he do? How about the same executive order card you pulled on immigration – arrest Darren Wilson. Do not stand for this! As the most powerful BLACK man in the world, make it count! Make it count otherwise you’re just another co-conspirator in the hypocrisy that is the democracy.

Black Culture:

They tan to be darker, they get dreadlocks to look like us, they attempt to enhance their bodies to match what we were born with. Our clothes, dancing, music, and dialogue was stolen by them and used to feed their agenda. We, Black People, created everything, however, understand that black culture is popular – black people are not.

Macklemore dominates at the Grammy’s! White folks winning shit that’s SUPPOSED to pay homage to Black people? How is he essentially a better musician, with a better rap album that Jay-Z or Kanye West? Macklemore – an Irishman from Washington state? Next Iggy wins the award for best rap album at the AMA’s? A white woman from Australia? Motherf*ckers never loved us!


No cross-examination of Darren Wilson? They rested before they even got both feet out the bed.

Who are our leaders:

I commend the NAACP, Al Sharpton and Jessie Jackson for their contributions to the movement but they need to retire. Every. single. time. that there is racism in AmeriKKKa we call upon the same two people to fight the same battles and have yet to overcome.

We are being hunted down like animals and they want peaceful boycotts and marches. Hold on now, weren’t we doing those same, exact things in the 50’s and 60’s? Where did it get us? Martin Luther King died for peace. We cannot have the same, tired (I had to do it) leaders leading us.

Dear Al Sharpton, don’t tell me to be peaceful and march and protest and boycott when it that shit don’t work. What is a vote? What is a march? Slain victims have their character and humanity put on trial, like being a person wasn’t enough. A “peaceful” march is not the answer.

When black people literally have to prove that we are worthy of life – protests are simply not the answer.

Photo cred: Youtube J-Jon,,, &

Thirsty Ass Catcalls – #YouOkSis?


At this point, I’m sure many of you have seen the video of Shoshana Roberts that depicts what it’s like for a woman to walk alone in New York City. The video showcased how difficult it was for a woman to walk down the street without being harassed. After 10 hours, she received over 100 forms of verbal harassment. Men, however, did not consider it harassment. I watched three male reaction videos and was not only disturbed but disgusted:

Where Yo Daddy At??

  1.  I will not give away the sources because they don’t deserve any further attention – his main point was that she [Roberts] wore extremely tight jeans with the sole intention to attract male sexual attention and that perhaps she should have worn “less flattering” apparel. He went further to say that they just HAD to use a relatively attractive woman because if she were unattractive no one would speak to her. In conclusion, he believes that feminists either tear women down (which has some truth) or ruin sex for men who do not find them attractive by trying to turn male sexuality into a crime.
  2. Video 2 starts off by saying, “there’s not a man alive who wouldn’t want to be…receive 100 comments in a day.”
  3. Video 3 claims how “for men, it’s not harassment but rather a compliment” and she is simply being unappreciative that someone felt the need to compliment her. Also, it’s not like freedom of speech doesn’t exist.

Lemma Holla at You Real Quick

Women do NOT dressed in the morning for male attention. Instead, it’s to feel good about ourselves and to express our current mood. I have to assume that the male in video #1 doesn’t do his own shopping because the art of buying clothes is to express YOUR personality. Roberts’ could have been a lesbian, therefore, your comments are unwarranted. Not to mention his logic is anything but – “she wore those pants knowing it would get her comments”. If a little girl wears pigtails is she begging to be molested?

You Sound Stupid and Undeserving of the Vagina

Men would love to receive that many compliments? Lies!! Women often ponder if they should keep walking with a group of men at the corner.  If said woman is extremely uncomfortable she will cross the street just to avoid the men entirely.

Not a woman alive needs to be “accustomed” to bullshit by insecure ass men – it’s harassment. Insecurities and pure thirst, bruh, will have you shouting across the street, saying “Aye shorty in the blue”. A compliment is when you APPROACH a woman and say, “Excuse me”. I don’t leave my house to talk to you; instead summoned to indentured servitude. I do not feel obligated to give you my number because you want to speak to me, later on, tonight. Fuck you, I’m trying to cash my check – not checking for you, scrub.

You So Thirsty — that’s Not Cute

Women don’t owe you shit. I don’t owe you a hello, smile or conversation. As a grown ass man, if you can’t handle rejection – it’s just better that you don’t speak.  Don’t make me feel like less of a person since I am uninterested in you. Sounds like a lot of your problem. It’s not my problem or hers.

If you really like that man’s jacket are you pointing that out? If you like his shoes are letting him know? Do you say, “Hey bro, your haircut is so fly now”? So to feel like you have an urgent and dire need to express the fact that I have a fat ass….I woke up with a fat ass and you weren’t in the bed with me, so I am well aware of that – you pointing that out is unnecessary and just plain ol’ #thirsty

Photocred:;; Vision Poet – “Thirsty”

Modernized Jim Crow

This morning I woke up, sought out both my 5 and 18-year-old brother’s, hugged them and cried. Everything I do in life is for them and everyday America reminds me that no matter what, I cannot protect them from the terrorists police.

This is modernized Jim Crow.

Last night marked the two-month anniversary of Mike Brown, the 18-year old, unarmed African-American male who was gunned down by terrorists police in Ferguson, MO. Last night was also the night where an off-duty terrorist police officer tasered and shot yet another unarmed African-American male. Was he shot 16 times for…holding a sandwich? They don’t lynch us anymore: we don’t dangle from trees like strange fruit but instead, they shoot us down and leave us as speed bumps dead in the road; “Modernized Jim Crow”.

I am not here to educate you on this epidemic, Google is your friend, but to talk about the “news” stations in America. I woke up at 8:24 and rounded up all the major players for coverage on this incident: CNN, MSNBC, FOX and HLN. It goes without saying that no one gave a damn about Vonderrit Myers Jr. and the fact that his life was cut short like so many other UNARMED young BLACK men in this strange land.

As I watched the “news” I wrote down everything that they covered for an hour and a half:

CNN – NFL Domestic Violence Education, Ebola, ISIS,  Kim Jung Ho

MSNBC – Kansas Senate, NFL Domestic Violence Education, Ebola, ISIS, Eva Longoria Interview

FOX – Kentucky Senate, White House Prostitution Scandal, Kim Jung Ho

HLN – ISIS, 7th Heaven Scandal, Mountain Lion’s, Ebola

Out of an hour and a half of legit bullshit, the hateful shooting and senseless death of ANOTHER black man received a joint 7 minutes of airtime from ALL stations. Instead, they focused on things that are important to the white folks. On CNN, Joe Ehrmann spoke about the 40-minute video educating NFL owners/players of domestic violence. They encouraged those watching to envision a woman close to them being assaulted at a party.

How bout this —

How about a video dedicated to everyone who is not African-American where they envision their fathers, brothers, boyfriends, and husbands being slaughtered for simply…existing? Ehrmann stated that the media shows negative football players and it gives good players a bad rep. Bruh, they do it to blacks all the time; quick to show images of guns, marijuana, and half-naked women but fail to show:




You Asking All the WRONG Questions

CNN reporters ask, “how will the NFL handle players accused of this heinous crime?” and “who should discipline players?” Let’s instead ask, “how will the nation handle terrorist police officers who are FILMED conducting a heinous crime? and “how are we disciplining terrorist police officers for unauthorized, illogical murder?” Child abuse is never okay but Adrian Peterson beats his child and gets fired yet terrorist police officers SLAUGHTER children every day and get paid vacations. C’mon son.

FOX news filed the hooker scandal under its’ “Special Report: Alert” category. Is it really important that a presumably rich, white man allegedly paid for the meow mix than an average, black KID being shot 16 times? Fox wants to know why the White House is opting to protect this staff member from this scandal but why is the country as a whole protecting terrorist police who kill because they can? FOX labeled the reaction to last night’s massacre as “angry” and “violent”. What should it have been? Quiet and peaceful?

More Bullshit

HLN brought a TMZ correspondent to discuss the divorce of Stephen Collins and his molestation confessional. Child molestation is never a joking matter yet famous white men have slipped their fingers in holes they don’t belong in for centuries, fam. Those children did not die but one did in St. Louis and no one cares. What they do care about, however, is whether or not a dog can spread the Ebola virus to humans. Let’s look at the DNA of terrorist police officers and see if they too are capable of spreading a deadly virus.

Martin’s dream never turned into a reality. Malcolm X tried to warn us. Marcus Garvey tried to warn us. They all tried. I stress to my peers today that you can’t just protest when someone is slaughtered. Don’t wait for another Trayvon or Mike. Your neighbor is next. You are next.

We protest every day of our life because they are killing us and no one cares.



Photo cred:,,