kermit da hustla
Banned
this thread is born from my daily observations, ruminations on what i see of young black men and women who seem to be assimilating into our society in ways that are dangerous to our identity as a people. let me first preface this by saying that i am GLAD when i see a black man or woman who isn't falling into the stereotypes the media attempts to assign to our people. i'm cool with street cats and so-called "thugs," but i understand that it's not a life i wish upon my people and recognize that those who are "about that life" are usually those who felt they had no other options. however, i also acknowledge that there are much better paths to take, avenues of success that don't bring with it imprisonment and/or an early death. with the rare exception, almost all of the black men i see who are in college or living that "professional" life overcompensate when around non-blacks. they try to fit in so hard that they comes across as effeminate bytches. their dress. their language. their mannerisms just scream, "i'm not one of those ghetto blacks. you can be safe around me." and, naturally, the white boys and girls pal around with this individual, hang out with them, and maybe the females (or males, if that's how they swing) date them. but these men are weak and ineffectual leaders in our community. they've surrendered their identity as black men to such a degree that they have become servants to the expectations of their white peers. so afraid of being objectionable or hostile (even if what they feel and say isn't "hostile" by its actual definition), they are no longer black men. they've become props to make whites feel as if they're not "racist," when we know they are.
and then there are the bed wenches, the black women who have escaped the "losers" and "deadbeats" in the black community. out of spite towards black me, they give themselves to white men in a way that is dismissive of black men, almost joining in the white man's attitudes towards us. they become objects for white men to satisfy their fascination with the exotic. and like their black male counterparts, these bed wenches adopt the vernacular, the dress, the mannerisms that - again - yell to the world, "i'm not one of them."
i know these two types of black men and women have probably existed within our community to varying degrees since we became "free," but they seem to be far more visible. something needs to change, or we risk becoming invisible, losing every distinctive quality that separates us from them.
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