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Something about the 4th of July always makes me extra patriotic, but in the blackest way possible. Let me explain:
In January of 2017, millions of women (rightfully) took to the streets to protest the possible loss of control over their reproductive rights under the current administration. Never mentioned was the fact that 100% of women of color who were brought to this country against their will were raped. Their children were not given birth certificates, they were assigned deeds of property. They were afforded no modicum of comfort or dignity; separated from their families and removed from their names.
Now imagine how pissed you’d be about losing those rights if you’d just gotten them 50 years ago with the passing of the Civil Rights Act; if you lived with the knowledge that your parents fought and protested and risked life and limb for the right to be counted as whole human beings.
Soak all that in and try to blast fireworks and enjoy the potato salad at your BBQ as you do your best to love the country you know has never loved you.
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The Handmaid’s Tale isn’t a dystopian fictional future, it’s actual American history for black women, except more genteel.
In June of 2017 the current administration asked states to hand over electoral data, asking for voting history, party ID and address of every voter in the U.S. Pundits see this as a blatant attempt to increase voter suppression; lovers of freedom everywhere are rightly in an uproar at overt attempts to dismantle democracy; outraged over the idea that something as basic as their right to vote might be infringed on.
Soak all that in and try to blast fireworks and enjoy the potato salad at your BBQ as you do your best to love the country you know has never loved you.
Imagine if every iteration of the government of the country in which you reside, going back to its inception, was openly hostile to people who looked like you. If there had literally never been a time in your nation’s history when you could expect justice and equality, when financial independence wasn’t made systemically harder to achieve, when poisoning the water, soil, and air in the neighborhood where you lived and raised your children wasn’t legal.
Imagine secret medical experiments conducted on people who look like you, poisoning, crippling, and killing human beings in the name of medical progress. Imagine fighting in war after war to keep this country safe, and then coming home to be treated as if your life doesn’t matter. Imagine being willing to die for ideals that are not applied to you because of the color of your skin.
Soak all that in and try to blast fireworks and enjoy the potato salad at your BBQ as you do your best to love the country you know has never loved you.
The blacker the patriotism, the sweeter the freedom.
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