In a society where what we say publicly can be taking beyond its context, I found my mother's kitchen to be the safest of all places. This is that place to share the thoughts and feelings of lived experiences.
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Thursday, November 21, 2013
The Angry Black Woman
Black America has a very interesting reputation and
expectations. As Black Women, we are even more interestingly categorized. From
the way the media portrays us, if we are aggressive or assertive, we are angry.
We have a point to prove. We have a chip on our shoulder. Why can’t we just be
annoyed by the stupidity that we encounter on a daily basis? Why can’t we just
be tired of all of the expectations that society places on us? Why can’t we
just want more for ourselves to where we refuse to subscribe to the societal
I decided to write this blog after having a week of various
encounters. It has been one thing after the other, but all I could think of
when responding was, be careful how you respond, you do not want to be coined
as “The Angry Black Woman”. No matter what takes place, one does not want to be
perceived negatively, so you have to calm that raging voice inside that says
“Speak up”. But by doing this, I feel as though I am silencing my voice. And
for me, doing so means that I am allowing the situation(s) to continue.
Regardless of the situation, I am not angry. I am annoyed
and frustrated. It is annoying to receive a sexually explicit photo of yourself
after we’ve parted ways after meeting for the first time. It is frustrating to
have someone of the opposite race jump in line in front of you after you’ve
stood there waiting patiently for your turn to make your purchase. It is
frustrating for people to assume your upbringing because you can relate to
others who they cannot. It is frustrating for people to judge one group based
on their limited knowledge of that group but yet they have determined the
consensus for everyone who is a part of that group. And it is frustrating to
see someone speak the language but not walk in their sermon.
Why can’t our anger just be seen as either passion or
frustration? Why must it be seen as we are never satisfied or that we are
hypersensitive (a prelude to my next blog)? Why must it be seen as us being
I have said it once and I will profess it here, I claim my anger and believe it is in justifiable right.