Honestly, I don’t know where to begin. I don’t know how to open this column. Maybe I’ll start with me.
I am a black man in these United States. Unlike most, I am aware of my male privilege; despite the fact that afrophobia renders it ineffective in a white supremacist nation. While being aware of male privilege (most feminists call it “patriarchy”) I do know that I am fully capable of throwing micro-aggressions like any other man. You will never find me cat-calling or going “ay ma” in the middle of the street because I have more class than that. Still though, lust is a fact. As love is a fact. One should find balance in life.
I wanted to point out the fact that I am far from a perfect man. There may be disagreement with how I lust, or how I love. I debate black feminists a lot, especially when it looks like they are buttressing afrophobia. We disagree all the time, like family. While we may disagree on a lot of things, one thing I would never be accused of is hating, or subtracting from, diminishing black women.
So allow me to ask this question: Do you love black women?
I feel compelled to ask this question of the many black men out there. Do you love black women? Serious question — do you love black women? Before you answer this question, please understand that your wife doesn’t count. Your mom doesn’t count either — and no, that was not a “your mom” joke.
When I conceptualize the love of black women, I’m not talking about intimate or direct-family relationships. That’s too easy. Why would anyone give a damn about you loving your mom or your wife? You are supposed to love them, fool. As a matter of fact, anyone can pick a few favorites out of a bunch and still have contempt for the general population. Considering that even Dylann Roof, the white supremacist-terrorist who murdered nine black church goers had a “best black friend”, it’s imperative that you understand that your onesies and twosies don’t fucking count. (Half of you guys spend copious amounts of time anathematizing black women and suggest you’re in the clear because you have a black wife, which is another topic.) When I conceptualize the love of black women, I’m talking about a community-based love. A love that is brother-sisterly without necessarily needing to be blood related. After a clear understanding of my question, can you honestly answer, do you love black women?
Here’s a more precise way to get to the core of the issue: Let’s figure out if you actually accept, appreciate and approve of black women other than your wife. When was the last time a black woman, other than your wife, girlfriend or mother, said or did something that added to you on an intellectual level? When was the last time you allowed a black woman to exist close to you, with her differing opinion on issues between men and women, and was like, “damn, I’m glad you’re around”? When was the last time you adored the fight in a black woman, who isn’t your wife, girlfriend or mom? When was the last time you allowed a black woman to correct you on anything? You know, add to your intellectual toolbox? When was the last time you had their back?
Don’t get me wrong; I’m not suggesting you kiss everyone’s feet. I’m not suggesting to don more capes than the Justice League. Sure, there are black women out there who are foolhardy. Sure, you cannot just throw your heart out to anyone; there are folks who hate my guts no matter what. But disagreement, is totally possible without tearing each other down. I’m sure there are black women out there who wish me to fail at everything I do — but there are more black women who love what I do and wish me the best. No matter how ruthless debating me may be (when you are in the wrong), it is clear that I don’t hate, despise or hold contempt for black women. It just won’t ever happen. I would rather play golf in a lightening storm than be caught diminishing black women. So yes, it is possible to debate and disagree with black feminists without waging civil war.
I have reason to believe that you probably do not love black women. When you use copious amounts of time to troll, grief, anathematize and execrate black women as a collective and then you use your black wife or mother as an ebony shield, it becomes ipso facto proof that you do not love black women. Speaking of which, why don’t we ever hear from these wives and moms of yours? Are they even aware?
I ain’t a black woman, but I think it’s safe to say that black women in general don’t all seek to be married to you. Another way of putting this is this: it’s irrational to marry 22,000,000 black women, therefore, a matrimonial relationship cannot (and will not) be the means at which you gauge love here.
I bet when black women hear that you have a wife after standing in all the afrophobic vitriol you just spat in her face, they get pissed as shit. They probably wonder what type of suppressed chick your wife is. They probably wonder what type of voice your wife has, if she has one at all. I might be speculating here (and ladies can correct me if I’m wrong) but the black woman probably can’t figure out if she should be mad at your dumb ass wife, or consider her a prisoner of war-like victim of your male privilege.
Anyway, these are just a few free floating thoughts. I hope I reach a few of us men out there. I’m sure it’s going to be called caping, sure. I can handle it. It’s all good, because I rest on this one principle — I know I make sense.