up to here

I am an angry black woman.

It has been a series of completely unrelated events that has brought me to this point. Little comments made on the side, glances here or there, the way that I have felt (dis)respected over a recent span of time. It has also been interesting posts that have sparked up conversations, both out loud and in my heart. And I think it is just where I am in life, an almost-college graduate who has to learn how to market herself in a way that won't turn people off, but won't have people agree to contract with someone that is a diluted version of me....and Senior Seminar. All of these things have caused me to come to the conclusion:

I am an angry black woman. I can't help it.
And I don't want to.

I hear you when you make off-the-cuff jokes....also, I understand them. I see you when you avert your eyes because the conversation does not concern my ethnicity...never mind that I would not mind hearing about it, anyway. I know what you mean when you say place AB is "dangerous" or "sketchy"...I have been places with mostly blacks, and I know what that does to people and their sense of security. I know that you know my name because I am the only black woman in your class. I know that I have won your respect and trust because I "talk properly", and I have a firm grasp on subject-verb agreement. I am acutely aware of this tenuous bond, and I am aware of how easily it can be broken. I see your surprised looks when I provide insight in class....didn't I just get here to fulfill a minority quota, anyway? Who would have thought I could contribute something to an institution that is only giving me affirmative handouts? I know why you change the subject whenever dissent about Obama is spoken....surely I laud him as the second coming of the Christ, so any opposition is firmly dismissed. I always, always, always make a note of the hesitance you give when trying to classify my race or ethnicity....black? African-American? I guess you figure it's less offensive to guess than to just ask me what I and other blacks (that's right, blacks) prefer. Why don't you stand on the other side of this communication gap and speculate about the people on the other side...please ignore the bridge that time and circumstance has laid down for us, putting us together in the same school, same bus, same church, same life....just stay over there, figuring out the best way to deal with me.

I'll be over here, watching, listening with the same five senses that you have been equipped with. I'll stay over here and revel in my new status as an angry black woman.