She's an Angry Black Woman

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--"I walk with my head held high and act like I’m cool but really-- I am scared. And you are the constellation that guides me home, the star that lights my path. You remind me of love and hope and action and dignity, like Muhammad Ali we will stand for something and I am sensitive...and knit picky about lint. And sometimes too emotional and other times not emotional enough because my youth was bruised and you massage me back to life with Your rhythm. Your words. Your spirit. " - Gina Loring ---

I must first apologize for it feels like it’s been forever since I last made an appearance in this vicinity. Life is busy and we must succumb before we can learn to make sense of this chaos.

Now that that has been cleared, the rest of the clearing should be of the heart. Of the heart because it is heavy, it is wounded, no amount of stitching will ever repair this damage that has been done. This damage that has left a woman angry and the world will never get it because it is the predisposition of black women to be angry. Anger is an emotion that any black woman is all too familiar with. It’s an action we present with passion, a feeling we grew up exposed to. It’s been a way of life for the black community for we stay angry at incidences that we have no control or say over. We remain imprisoned in shackles of anger at systems that caught us off guard and used our vulnerability against us. Systems of patriarchy, of sexism of religion all in the desire of keeping us within the boundaries of these Pandora boxes we exist in and intact behind the shadows of the puppet master that controls our thoughts, our actions and consequently, our destinies.

So yes. I am angry and I believe that my anger is justified. I will also remain angry until me freedom has come and I have the liberty to roam these streets without being subjected to a visual object for the pleasure of someone else. I will continue to march on in anger until I too regain my rightful place in society. Until I will wear what I like, speak how I feel and act how I please without stereotypes and conventions constantly placed onto me, then I see no reason why this anger should subside.

I am an angry black woman at the borderlines of mad-ville. I am angry at history, the genesis of these universal laws. I am also angry at these traditional ties that bind us to outdated doctrines of our sexuality and femininity. Principles that hold our societies and us back from progressing as a people and allowing our minds to evolve as nature had intended. 

My anger is provoked by backward minds of slaves driven by systems that have existed since the beginning of time. I am angry at the past that returns to repeat itself in the now and will again revisit us in future times only because we are too lazy to learn from the mistakes that history has made. 

 

Even America's First Lady has been accused of being an Angry Black Woman

I am angry at you because you sit on your bosom, content with your state of ambivalence. I am angry at me for even though I carry these truths I still revert to silent spaces where my and your stories are devoured by nonchalant attitudes. I am angry at mother for even in her pain she could have held on to ensure the joy of her offspring. I am angry at daddy because he abandoned his little girl for the world and its materials. I am angry at the men that I once loved because in moments of induced endorphins they promised me paradise and gold yachts, multiple lifetimes of happiness. I am angry at you the sister that we share a bond with, for I confided in you because I believed in you yet you took me for a fool, went behind my back and made me your enemy. 

I am angry because it makes me happy. This anger is a place I call home, I find my being through it and my voice finds command in its streaks. My righteous anger gives me joy; I sleep better at night knowing that my discomfort with the human race consciously worries me. I stay angry because I am born black. I stay angry because I am born a woman. I remain angry because I am bit by the curse of double oppression. It’s due to these injustices that I will not change my ways. 

I continue to be angry because it’s a feeling I cannot get comfortable with. I find pleasure in my anger because it moves me to think, it moves me to question the so called inevitable, it moves me to act for the betterment of my kind. And for a tomorrow where Angry Black Women stand to be heard and understood. To be embraced and rocked back to love. 

If it means that we start teaching them young- that apathy and dogma should not be tolerated

So on behalf of my black angry sisters. Lets bask in this anger, seize it...because a thousand angry women are bound to break systematic chains in a world where freedom of self is not yet free. 

Until next post,

Africa Rising, Peace & Revolution....