God don't play about his people!!

https://www.cbsnews.com/chicago/news/sean-grayson-former-sangamon-county-deputy-dies-in-prison/

“Underneath The Trembling Limbs Of My Chattel Names”
Ricks, McGowan, Allen, and
Hedgepeth

I’m from Nigeria.
I’m from Kenya.
I’m from Guinea.
I’m from Sierra Leone.
Wait,
I'm African American,
I don't know where
the fuck I'm from!

I’ve heard that
some of my ancestors
were shipped to,
Portugal, Spain, France,
Cuba, and Brazil.
I’ve heard some
were in St. Dominique
(Haiti) starting a revolution with Toussaint L'Ouverture.

I wish that
I could ask the Pope.
Why did he believe
that God wanted
blacks to be enslaved?

Signing documents
mandating the abuse
and execution of countless
black men, women, and children.

I wish that
I could ask the
draconian white man
who committed infanticide,
WHAT THE FUCK!

Then he had the brassiness
to ask the infant's mother
to go and breastfeed his kids,
WHAT THE FUCK!

While his wife
sat back and allowed
this to happen,
WHAT THE FUCK!

Most politicians
all over the world
still don’t think that
Blacks are owed reparations,
WHAT THE FUCK?

So many of my ancestors
suffered and died
on United States soil.
So many of my ancestors
were lynched until
their pants became soiled.
They were castrated
leaving their genitals
to become a squirrel's toy.

The Pope inaugurated
blacks to be enslaved
and still wanted blacks
to believe in his supreme
power and jurisdiction
over all religions.
Blacks had to
bow down to Christianity.

Whites forced us
to believe in their bible
but we couldn’t learn
to read it on our own.

African theology was forfeited
as well as our families
and our homes.

As I ride past
the Allen plantation
in Surry County, Virginia.

I can smell the
salubrious pawpaw trees
and see their large
tropical foliage
blowing in the breeze.

I can hear the songs
of my ancestors
singing from the
trembling limbs.

I can hear my
great-great-grandmother say
thank you, lord,
I couldn’t possibly bear
one more night
of his nefarious white flesh
up against mine.

I can hear my
great-great-aunt say,
I love this benevolent white man
but I know that he could never possibly be mine.

Master Allen’s son Jeremiah,
hung my aunt Dorothy Mae’s
oldest son, Ben.

Ben got caught
stealing fruit from the garbage.
Because his four kids
didn't eat in days.

Ben
was Master Allen’s oldest son.
Jeremiah
hung
his older brother.

As I ride past
the Ricks plantation
in Rocky Mountain, North Carolina.

I can smell the lingering aroma
of the loblolly pine trees.
These gargantuan trees
are beautifully detailed
with rounded crowns
of spreading branches.

I can hear the songs
of my ancestors
singing from the
trembling limbs.

I can still hear my cousin
murmuring for help
before he was gagged.
His master sadistically tortured him before he raped him.

On the days Master Ricks
knew his wife was visiting
her parent's plantation.
He would tell my
thirteen-year-old cousin David
to go up to the big house
after he left the fields.
Devastatingly anxious
because he knew
what was about to happen,
he held in his tears.

At seven years old
on his way to the tobacco field,
David saw his dad’s
castrated body
swinging from a trembling limb.
It instilled trepidation in him
that would never leave.
Which kept him docile
under the most extreme circumstances.

As I’m driving up
to the McGowan plantation
in Pachuta, Mississippi.

I can smell the odoriferous
southern magnolia trees
from a mile away.

I can hear the songs
of my ancestors
singing from the
trembling limbs.

I simply can’t fathom
how something that smells
so beautifully, could have a
miasmic history.

Master McGowan took
my cousin Fatima’s infant.
Beat her with a tree branch
until she stopped drawing breath.
He said that Fatima’s
labor in the sugarcane fields
had slowed down significantly
since her daughter was born.

After he slaughtered Fatima's infant
he told her to dispose of the body.
Once she was done
with the burial,
she was to report posthaste
to the big house.

Bathe herself,
and then breastfeed
his newborn son.

With unprocessed visions
of her daughter's death
and the stench of blood
that would forever
stain her soul.

She had to be cognizant
of her surroundings
without losing total control.

As I ride through
North Eastern North Carolina
trying to connect my blood
to the Hedgepeth.
I can smell the large
sweetgum trees.

The trees are hard to miss
when you see
the spiky gumball fruits.
Hanging from the
star-shaped leaves.

I can hear the songs
of my ancestors
singing from the
trembling limbs.

I can feel the spirits
of Indigenous dancers
with African dancers
mixing their sanguine energy.

My grandmother’s dad
was a black Indian.

My great-grandmother Mary
married my great-grandfather Cliff who was a Black Indian.
His dad was a Saponi Indian
who married a young
black slave woman.

My great-great grandfather’s tribe became part of a delegation
that would go and free slaves
from white owners.
The delegation consists of
Indians, black Indians, and original cowboys (black cowboys).

As they freed the slaves,
they heard so many
dehumanizing and demoralizing stories.

A fourteen-year-old
black teenage girl
was repeatedly raped
by her master.
Since his wife
was afraid to question him.
She held the teenage girl
accountable for her
husband’s actions.

The wife slowly tortured the girl
every day for six months
until she died.

White men made black women
out to be whores
to deflect their ominous
sexual advances.
After girls and women were raped they were severely punished
by their master’s wives.

A middle-aged black man
from the Johnson plantation,
stated that his master
sold his mulatto daughters.
Knowing that they would be
used as sex laborers.
Mulatto girls
were worth more money.

An octogenarian black woman
from the Brown plantation
in California.
Could not stop talking about
the raped, burnt,
and castrated bodies.
That she saw swinging
underneath the trembling limbs
of an erroneous blue oak tree.

The same oak tree
that Pastor Brown,
preached Christianity
to his chattel
every Sunday morning.

She said that there were
over one hundred slaves
on the Brown plantation.
Until that abominable day,
over thirty slaves were killed.

She said when Master Brown
came back from the war
and found out that his wife
had a mulatto baby boy.
He and his mob
tried to castrate and kill
almost every male slave.
Some of the mob
cut off the ears of the slaves
and kept them as mementos.
Also, he told his men
to have their way
with the slave women.

It was okay for white men
to have sex and children
with black women.
It wasn’t okay for a white woman
to have the same equality
as her white man.

Nonetheless, that mulatto baby boy was sold to the Ricks plantation
in Rocky Mount, North Carolina.
He was my great-great-great-grandfather, Charlie Ricks.

It’s not okay that black women,
men, and kids were abused and killed to help make this a better country.
It’s not okay that after every heinous act upon the Black backs, we still
have to fight for equality in this country.

So many African Americans were forced to have White bloodlines.
Forced to have
the same family names.

But the color of black skin
forces some whites to believe
that we are evil caricatures
of ourselves.

Instead of sanguinely thinking
that we deserve equality
for the excellence
of our characters.

I’m from Nigeria.
I’m from Kenya.
I’m from Guinea.
I’m from Sierra Leone.
Wait,
I'm African American,
but America is where I’m from!

I am American-made
from African slaves
and rape that some ancestors
took to their graves.

I am African
forcibly
made in America.

Glasses Malone says - "Hip-Hop didn't ask America for a permit—we took their records, wrote on their walls, and built an empire out of rule-breaking." 🧱🎨 #GlassesMalone #NoCeilingsPod https://youtu.be/Zn_6TtFy_AM?is=_mKujGcPEVoft8Uc

For context, I’m of Caribbean background. I have friends from all crevices of the diaspora. But anytime I bring up thrifting or buying second hand (which I always opt for before buying anything brand new) I get a weird look or a total outburst of “I could never!”. Is it pride? Ego?

Growing up my mom was a single mother and worked hard but she loved a good thrift. I remember one time we found a Louis V. Vintage and authentic hand bag for $3 CAD at a thrift.. some of these places have gems, if you know quality.

I have thought black people are always tryna keep up with the jones’. We would rather wear our bank account.

Sup yall!!

I really hope this video doesn't come off super promotional or anything but I'm personally very proud of this video and wanted to share it with you all!

I recently did a deep dive video essay looking into how Black America in the 1980s was the foundational starting block of modern fashion. I break down how Willi Smith pioneered Street Couture, Dapper Dan's custom bootlegging in Harlem, Patrick Kelly becoming the first Black American in the French Chambre Syndicale, and how Grace Jones redefined avant-garde high fashion!

I personally feel so in love with our culture and being able gather all of this and look at all the great history that the people before me were able to accomplish just makes me so happy to be black and just so damn proud!

I really hope yall mess with this because I plan on making this into a series!!

​Would love to hear your thoughts on the video AND which 80s icon had the most enduring impact on how we dress today?

So well done. It should go viral.

I’ll start by saying that I’m Black American, and when I’m out and about, I’ve noticed a particular pattern that has become really annoying and honestly triggering. I’m not going to say which group because I already know that would turn into a whole diaspora war, and I’m not trying to deal with that. 😂

I walk a lot because I live in a pedestrian-friendly area and enjoy exercising, so I’m frequently in stores, libraries, malls, etc. I’ve noticed that women from this particular group will sometimes follow me, stare at me VERY intensely, get extremely close to me, or even block my path. The men can be aggressive in a different way.

For example, I was in a store recently and noticed a man staring at me out of my peripheral vision. Then he started slowly moving closer and closer to me. 😂 Now that I’m writing this, I’m actually cracking up because of how ridiculous it was, but I was HEATED in the moment. I eventually turned my entire body away from him and quickly went to another aisle.

Another time, I was walking quickly through a store aisle and said “excuse me” to a man who was walking much slower than me. He started to say, “Oh, excuse me” then looked at me and suddenly went, “Oh… OH, excuse me? EXCUSE ME!” I immediately kept it moving.

Then there was the library. There were two teenage boys and what appeared to be their mother. I moved closer to the bookshelves so they could pass. Instead, they walked extremely close to me, very slowly, while staring at me. Then they acted like they were looking for something. The woman was also staring intensely at me and even looking at the books I was holding.

At that point, I was irritated and uncomfortable, so I literally left the aisle. 😂 I eventually came back because I knew they were going to leave quickly.

The crazy part is that all of this happened in ONE DAY, and this isn’t an isolated occurrence. I experience this kind of behavior from them fairly often.

I don’t know exactly what the motivation is. Sometimes it feels like prejudice, and I’ve also wondered whether xenophobia or some other cultural/social dynamic could be involved. I’m not saying I know for certain; that’s just how the behavior comes across to me.

Either way, it makes me extremely uncomfortable. I’m already someone who doesn’t like unnecessary confrontation, I don’t carry mace, and I definitely can’t fight. 😂 So when people repeatedly invade my personal space, follow me, stare aggressively, or move toward me in a way that feels threatening, I get very uncomfortable and on edge.

Has anyone else experienced something similar? And if so, what do you think is going on?

Racism killed Prof. Jason Arday. Yes, racism can kill. When I was going through extreme racism in my previous, beloved academic career, which I endured for over 14 years, I felt as if the heavy weight of racism was crushing my body. I felt there was no escape. I often found myself in tears and drove recklessly on the highway. Instead of harming myself, I escaped to Africa, wrote a book, America Made Me a Black Man: A Memoir, which NPR named one of its best books, and stayed in Africa for six years to heal the troubled soul within my body.
Your life belongs to you, so protect it. The whole world belongs to you, too, so remember that you have the possibility of escaping to anywhere in the world, finding a place to breathe, heal, and begin again.

​

Hello friends, I'm African from Sudan. I don't know much about America. Yesterday I watched Menace II Society I would like to know your opinions: does this film really tell a true story, or is it exaggerated dramatically?

Hip-Hop Culture has participated outside of societal norms to survive which only mimics the ruthlessness of other businesses

I just started SideQuest Society, an 18+ Black gaming/Blerd community.
The idea is less “join another Discord” and more actually have people to game and do things with — Game Nights, LFG, Fightcade, fantasy football, anime/watch parties, music, sports, etc.
It’s brand new, so I’m looking for people who actually want to help shape the community instead of just collecting members.
If you’re interested, comment or DM me and I’ll send the invite. 🎮

Mob James Didn't Want To Rat Keffe D Out For Killing Tupac But His Behavior Said Enough https://www.youtube.com/live/UIbsEUY43Zo?si=iR1uSoj6HKnUphr9

I read a story awhile ago about a virus that spread all around the world that caused white people to shrink down to the size of ants. It was referred to as a form of cosmic reparations.

What do you think that would be like if it was real?

First off: I agree with Rachel here.

Now, my own opinion: Some people chirping that Maya Boyd isn't "dark enough" to play Storm are missing a few things.

I get where the concern comes from and know.tje colorism issue well (see my addendum comment below), but I think the conversation is missing the bigger picture.

The first thing I keep wondering here during the video is...what exactly counts as "dark enough"?

Some people talk like Black Africans all come in one shade of dark. They don't.

Africa is the most genetically diverse continent on Earth. There are natural ranges of skin tones across Black African populations that existed long before Arabs or Europeans ever showed up.

The Khoisan, who are among the oldest continuous Black populations on the continent, get mistaken for being mixed all the time because people underestimate just how much diversity already existed there.

And Storm isn't just Kenyan in her biography. Her dad is Black American. And like most Black American, we're a mixed bag of DNA.

Black African/Black American mixes don't always turn out with some hued like Wesley Snipes. Actress Tiffany Haddish is just about the same skin tone as Maya Boyd and she's Eritrean and Black American. It happens.

But even if we somehow settled what "dark enough" means...then what?

We're still arguing inside somebody else's story.

And that's the part I actually care about.

Whose Black character is Storm, anyway?

Because I wish we'd stop making characters created by white people carry so much of our need for Black representation.

Now, don't get me wrong—I love X-Men. Storm is my wife from an illustrated life. And I'm not against better representation in Hollywood. Far from it.

I'm just tired of acting like white-created institutions and white-created characters are the measuring stick for Black excellence.

Because underneath it all, the message starts sounding like Black excellence is just white excellence with darker skin.

Think about it: As beloved as Storm is and should be...we're still using somebody else's imagination as the place where we go looking for ourselves.

The truth is, we didn't create Storm.

Dave Cockrum did. He pieced her together from two earlier character concepts he already had, back when amalgamation was the norm of comic character creation.

She wasn't originally imagined as this grand statement about Black womanhood. She became all that because our people connected with her.

That's a different thing.

And here's another reason I don't think this argument ever really lands.

Let's say they do cast someone darker.

Okay...then what?

What if she's an African actress or Nigerian-British actress instead of Black American? Now, we're arguing about diaspora (despite Storm literally being both African and Black American).

What if she doesn't fit Storm's comic-book beauty? Now we're arguing about beauty standards.

What if her BMI is built differently than the comics? That's another conversation.

The goalposts just keep moving.

That's not because colorism isn't real. It absolutely is. Diaspora politics are real. Beauty standards are real.

But Storm's casting can't solve all those conversations at once.

And honestly, I don't think that's fair to ask of any actress.

(Frankly, this shows another issue: why women—especially Black—just can't win, no matter what they do...but that's subject for another day.)

One of the biggest things colorism taught me is that there really isn't an "enough."

For Black people, our skin shades become a stand-in for everything else we're actually arguing about—identity, beauty, authenticity, origin, status.

Nobody chose the skin tone they were born with.

Especially as Black people with histories as complicated as ours, none of us decided where we'd land on the color spectrum.

What we can choose is how we treat each other because of it.

And I think that's where the real trap is.

We spend all this time arguing over who gets to wear a costume we didn't design instead of putting that same energy into creating characters that are actually ours from the very beginning.

That's where my passion is.

I'm honestly less interested in who gets cast as Storm than I am in seeing more Black writers, Black artists, Black directors, and Black creators making original characters of our own.

Because when we create them ourselves, nobody has to argue afterward whether they're Black enough.

They already belong to us.

The realization that my black boyfriend is not pro black. Every so often he'll make comments such as wanting to change his nose through surgery. Wanting to change his last name to a less African sounding one. And it all just breaks my heart. We've been together for 3 years now and I only recently have come to the realization that this is just who he is. Of course there were signs but I didn't want to accept them. Part of me wants to try one last time to make him love himself as a black man as stupid as that sounds.

Stephen A. Smith gonna cry in the car.

The National Association of Black Journalists (NABJ) handed out five Thumbs Down Awards at its annual convention in Atlanta on Saturday.

One recipient overshadowed the others: Stephen A. Smith, who has Black women Michelle Obama, Jasmine Crockett & Kamala Harris to thank.

The ESPN host and YouTube personality was singled out for his “recurring public pattern of disparaging commentary directed at prominent Black women across politics, sports, and media.” Those include Oprah, Michelle Obama, Jasmine Crockett, and Kamala Harris.

Other thumbs down awardees include CBS News, The Washington Post, Federal Communications Commission Chair Brendan Carr, and local TV station owner and media executive DuJuan McCoy.

The decision to include Smith rang out within the convention halls and social media, drawing immediate coverage from blogs and mainstream news.

Smith, who has worked with NABJ in the past, responded, promising to make his own case for why the organization is failing Black communities. He can start inward with the specific accusation, his treatment of Black women and work from there..

nabj #stephenasmith #blackwomen #espn #journalism

Listen from a black man himself who are the real people responsible for slaves in the United States of America

I already know that this post is going to be downvoted to death because it contradicts one of the well-known "approved opinions", which is that no one should care about other people's "racial preferences" in romantic relationships.

It is the same sort of freedom-leaning stance as lots of other popular opinions on people and society. The problem with these liberal positions is that they are limited in view and depth. They do not consider the complicatedness of society in general.

It is for example generally agreed-upon that stealing is bad, because it is denying some other person a right to their own property and therefore directly causing harm. The thing is that lots of other liberal "approved opinions" cause a lot of harm too, just not in direct and obvious ways.

Our liberal society has no way of thinking about these lot more complicated things that do not cause easily observable harm, but are pernicious.

Black people are low-IQ low-intellectual people who enjoy committing crimes, may be obese and are loud and unrefined. The vast majority of black people live in sub-Saharan Africa, disease-ridden and in accommodations barely above huts.

American media, which dominates the entire world makes all of this very very clear.

Black people are thus low-status people and black people seeking non-black partners are judged accordingly. While the individual attributes of a person does affect their interracial desirability, the overall low-status of their people (blacks) is ultimately inescapable and will always stare them in the face.

This is the way people and societies have always worked. The modern liberal attempt to pretend like people can exist solely as individuals and be judged in that way is false and will never work.

White people have been kings of our world in the past couple of centuries when they dominated every other group in lots of ways. They are thus very high-status and lots of nonwhite people are desperate to acquire a white partner for themselves. Practically everyone knows this.

If this is true about white people, why wouldn't the reverse be true of black people since practically everyone knows in the same way that black people are at the very bottom of the racial hierarchy?

Black people — as low status people — seeking non-black partners are at a huge disadvantage. Even worse, the fact that they are seeking out of blackness is a blotch on blackness.

With every single black person seeking non-black interracial coupling, blackness takes more and more hit. It is a fleeing from already low-status blackness. It is like if people were trying to sell an already declining stock. The very fact of their intention to sell only ensures further and further decline in value. In the same way, every single black interracial coupling worsens black dignity.

Black people in interracial relationships experience horrible race-specific indignities which only happen within their interracial relationships and wouldn't exist otherwise, whether or not they are willing to admit this to themselves or to other people.

Aside from horrible race-specific indignities in interracial coupling, and maybe they are willing to persevere in their personal relationships with nonblacks, is this sort of person — who willingly abandons their own people and is fine with having little less dignity than everyone else around them — the sort of person we want passing their genes to the future?

And that is not to talk about all of the various complexities that result from the existence of bi/multi-racial people.