For years, I've spit flames at any black man for reducing the movie The Color Purple to a man bashing fest. I know all about that movie because I lived much of it. I knew exactly what Miss Sophia meant when she said, "All my life I had to fight." I knew what Miss Sophia meant when she said, "A girl child ain't safe in a family full of men." I knew what Miss Celie went through, having been called black and ugly while being encouraged not to smile.Too many of us know that movie first hand because we lived it on some level or another.
I understand the venom and vitriol that numerous black men come at black women with because they were also products of sorry black women who refused to protect them from ain't shit black men. Black women have allowed their husbands to run wild, ravaging their own children for the sake of receiving half on the utility bills, so she could say that her children had a father in the household. They left their sons and daughters in the care of predators and beat them in response to their cries for help.
When I was molested by a now deceased police marshall who lived a few houses over from me, I confided in one of my older brothers. His response? Well, he told me that's what I got for taking my dumb ass in his house. Yes, I've always been naive, but I was honored and surprised that this man invited me in. People feared him, yet felt safer because he was around. Nothing could have prepared me for what would take place once inside. But I get it because my understanding of certain things has evolved. My brother, a small time dope dealer himself, wasn't prepared to go against a guy who was responsible for taking down some of Detroits most infamous drug kingpins. Therefore, he had to place the blame on me. I was the dumb ass for accepting his invitation to come inside.
My point is, overall, numerous black women have collectively had to fight our protectors and predators. On top of that, we had to fight to continue loving the women who excused these men and in the midst of all this fighting, we have to fight for the opportunity to love someone brand new. We don't know who this person is or what they're gonna do. Sometimes, we choose what apppears to be the best among slim pickings. We don't collectively go looking for abusive bums who will abandon or deny our children altogether. We go for men who engage us with their nice, loving, good guy representatives. But to say that we don't welcome men who will treat us well based on someone we may have turned down due to a lack of interest, doesn't mean we had a lack of interest in good treatment. We may have just had a lack of interest in that particular person. Some of you complain about being in the friendzone but why are you so opposed to being a good friend and why does it upset you?
But so many expect black women to be these miraculous beings who bounce back immediately after being knocked down repeatedly. The strong black woman accolade is no more than a backhanded compliment from people who seek to purposely stand on her back, while compensating her with praise because it didn't break. The white man nor the Willie Lynch Fairy can be used as a scapegoat when these disgraceful actions are being carried out by men who read every book except the Yellow Pages in search of a therapist that they can confide in. If Post Traumatic Slave Syndrome is what you're identifying as your barrier, then you're of sound enough mind and body to seek out a cure. I mean, all the solutions can't be on black women, can they? From "keep your legs closed" to "you shouldn't have worn, said, or done that" to "you shouldn't have taken your dumb ass in there," there's always plenty of advice to go around for us as black women.
Now, what about you, black man? Is there any advice you'd like to take on for yourself or are we to simply understand your plight and endure the backlash while finding a way to smile while in pain? Do we need your permission to be angry?
