I saw you coming.
it was the night of the Vice-Presidential debate where Kamala Harris said to Pence “ I’m speaking” and the internet lost its mind, you included. I saw you the next morning sharing posts that said “ I’m Speaking ”, telling everyone you knew what an important moment it was for women, cheering these words on, and celebrating them as your own.
Ironically, on that same day, I saw you writing on Black women’s Instagram walls chastising them for speaking too “harshly”, for not being “ kind enough to you”, for being too “ loud” and sharing in a way that, in your words, “won’t advance the movement.” I saw you sending private messages to Black women discrediting their experience, telling them it should be about ALL women, because yes, then it would include you, and pleas to just recognize that you are one of the “good ones”. I saw you take a Black woman’s words and apply them to your cause, your fight with ever acknowledging that your fight is not our fight. I saw it and I experienced because you too were chastising me.
I saw you and I wanted to scream. I wanted to fight. Honestly, I almost even wrote a post to you because I knew then what the polls would show me. I’m not sure I ever got over what you did 4 years ago. And in that moment, it all came rushing back, the fear, the mistrust, the disrespect I felt when I saw how you voted in 2016. I just didn’t know it would be even worse than what I saw in 2016. I wasn’t prepared that the % would be higher than what it was before. And yet, naive little me sits back now and says to myself “ You knew, Dy. You just weren’t ready to accept it.”
Because I saw you.
And I still see you . I see you can post black squares, read books on how to be an anti-racist, say that you are listening and learning but not learn a damn thing.
I see that it’s easy to go ask women to march along beside YOU but when it comes to marching alongside them, you are silent, complacent, agnostic to our requests and even more so, you ignore our cries and why’s.
I see that you will co-opt our culture, our bodies, our music, our speech, our beauty, our struggle against oppression, and our fight for liberation…and still go to the polls and vote to keep us oppressed.
I see that the fight against racism is only worth joining if it’s loving and kind to you. If you don’t have to lose anything for it. If you don’t have to feel uncomfortable for it.
And as long as you can still be the center of attention for it. I see you. I’ve been seeing you.
And I can see that you just don’t care. You’re going to do what serves YOU.
Cool. I am too.
So be mindful of asking me to attend your marches, your panels, your events that serve YOU? I’m not coming haven’t gone to a Women’s march yet, and still ain’t coming.
Be mindful of policing my tone, my language, my ideas, my story, my experience and be prepared that I’ll be coming for your privileged one now too.
Be careful of asking or expecting me to perform free labor for you. The answer will always be no.
Be understanding when I call you out for your own privileged, racist behavior since you want me to be understanding of you voting for blatant racist behavior. And no, I’m not “calling you in” to anything (this term drives me up the wall). It’s a call out, period.
Be mindful that I see you.
And that I am not letting you off the hook.