Posted innotes
⋆ redundancy
Let me make something very clear – endurance is not strength. Just because I can continue with everything that I am given, day in and day out, does not mean that I am strong.
Stop romanticising my negative experiences. They are just as awful as anyone else’s.
I remember once when I fell on the playground, the teachers outside did not bother to see if I was okay. I wiped my tears and blood on my clothes the best I could. I washed my hands off in the washroom when we went indoors.
The next morning, another girl fell in nearly the same place playing on the same piece of equipment. She was not bleeding or crying. She just said, “ow”. All the teachers went over to her to see if she was okay.
What was the difference?
Some of you have this idea that people of colour feel no pain. That we are stronger than you. Even as a child, I was under-treated for illnesses and paid less attention to when I needed help.
And when I come out of a difficult situation without losing my mind, I am “so strong”. No, I am not. This is a stereotype. I am not a strong black woman.
I am a human. And I can break.
I am not a good little woman who should sit down and shut up because I survive each little injustice that is done to me (see, dignity). There are no badges for each horror I escape.
Is it wrong that I want to be held, coddled and told that everything is going to be fine? Or that I want to be treated with love, kindness and respect just like everyone else. I am not made of superhuman materials because my father was black. How in the world does that make any sense?
…but a white woman is made of lesser materials and should be held gently, preciously because at any moment she could shatter into a zillion tiny gorgeous pieces?
Pfft, you insult us all with this shit.
I am hurt because life tends to make me sick, and I do not have the skills to cope. My skin colour has not a damn thing to do with how I process –
but, it could have everything to do with how you treat me.