5 Things to Stop Calling Black Women in 2018

First of all, let me just say, that it pains me to even have to write this in 2018
However, it strengthens me.
If you gotta platform…you gotta use it
I actually re-wrote that last sentence a few times, because I often get stuck between sounding like myself and sounding like…well.

It’s a new year
Another year to be black
Another year to fight back
Another year to continue to write about and break down the micro-aggressions that we hear and (sigh) say ourselves without even realizing

As black women
As black people
We often are at the receiving end of discrimination, and unfortunately we are used to it…
We can also be on the other side (cough cough, colorism)

I’m not crying “black on black crime” here (because that’s an ENTIRELY different conversation…and frankly another blog post to come) but I’m just saying…
Hear me out
Hear me out brothas
Hear me out sistas

I hear these too often
These words
These titles
That we give to our women because we are so far separated from our brothers and sisters economically that we often forget that we are one.

So I made a list
A list of “names” of “titles” of “banners” to stop placing on our women


Number One: A hoodrat. Can we PLEASE stop this? Let’s not stoop to the level of those who once owned our wellbeing. Who once (once used loosely) thought so less of us due to where we lived, where we went to school and where we worked. As if they weren’t a part of the reason that we ended up there. Let’s stop equating our women who fell economically lower than us because of God knows what and are familiar to staying there because that’s just…what…we…know to being a rat. A rodent. A being that is considered less than by even those in the damn animal kingdom.

Number Two : Nappy-Headed. And don’t even fight me on this one. Someone literally used the “description” to me in a sentence describing a black woman just a few weeks ago. Can we stop? Why are we so far gone from ourselves as black people that we see the natural, God given texture of our hair as “nappy”. It’s just so negatively ingrained in us, in them, I cringe.

Number Three Hoes. Now while this goes for all women, I’m talkin ’bout the black ones right now. What is a ho? I mean really, what is it? After Spike Lee’s “She’s Gotta Have It” debuted on Netflix, there was A TON of backlash. The main character, Nola Darling got ridiculed up and down my timeline and called all types of hoes and whores and “easy” just because she scratched her itches as she saw fit. Let’s stop this. Sex is a natural human activity. A fun, freeing, gratifying, self pleasing activity. We all do it. We ALL DO ITTTTT.

Number Four Angry. Maybe, instead, just call us fed-up.

Number Five Crazy. I’ve literally heard “black women are crazy” come out of the mouths of more black men in this world than anyone of any other race. The last person I “dated” included (I know, wtf?). I’m just sitting there like, ok, so your mom is crazy? Your grandma? Your sister? Your girl? C’mon. To group a race of women into a section that ,actually, is already inadequately represented based on no other thing but their ethnicity makes no sense. Zip. None. Nada. Zilch.

The list goes on, unfortunately, but these are just the cherries on top of the sundae’s that I have no choice but to put my spoon to everyday.

Love us.
Crown us.
Be us? Then you’d really see us.


Until next time.



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