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My People, My People, My People

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As some might have guessed I am African-American and I have a big issue with my people. I don’t have a problem being African-American, never have in my entire life, though my own people have called me an Oreo cookie my whole life because I made the decision to be myself a long time ago.

Ever since I was a little girl I always knew I was different and I was cool with that. I always had plenty of friends and most were white because they never gave me grief for me being just me. Now my mom is my hero, along with my father, who always made sure my sisters and I were dressed properly and our hair was always done. My mom had a routine on Sunday night, she would wash our hair and for my sisters they would get their hair pressed and curled and then she would just put mine in braids; see my hair is curly, Black folks like to call it “good hair.” Biologically speaking, it is the grade of hair that I have that makes it curly because of the follicle shape, oval for curly if I remember correctly. Anyway, that was another way for my own people to grief, and then there was my complexion, it is not dark nor is it light but the way my complexion is, it looks like I can say I am from the Caribbean, and that would be true because my mom’s dad is Haitian. My grandmother, my mom’s mom, is African and Native American; then there is my father’s side of the family and that is Native American and Irish, which gives you me.

(My grandparents on both sides of my family have worked hard all of their lives. They are, were, strong people and I watched them take care of their family, especially the men. One time my father said the wrong thing to my mother and her brother found out and shot at him in the house and it was the last time, I will give more on my family life later.)

I have been asked by people all of my life what I am, and especially as I got I was older and then worked in downtown San Francisco; my place of employment was retail sales and tourists, especially men from other countries, found me attractive and could not believe that I was African-American because of the whole package of me. I say the whole package of me because, people, we have to remember we are not one dimensional; we are multi-dimensional and once the rest of you realize that, life will be so much better for you. I have to say it like that because I see my people who are stuck in a rut of “We was born in the ghetto, we gonna live in the gehtto, so we gonna die in the ghetto.”

Now let me say this, this is not the ideology of all African-Americans, it really isn’t; there are the good majority of us who know we need to work hard to make it to get the things we want in life but for some reason we are not seeing those people. All we see all we see are the gang-banging rappers and actual gang banger who want to display this falsehood for our young men and women to emulate, and we need to stop it in its tracks today, not tomorrow or the next day, but now rappers (not Hip-Hop) are two different things, I am going to talk to you about the first. I want to know if the rappers really see the damage that they have caused in our communities—seriously. Do they ever really come down to the “hood” and stay the week in a person’s apartment that has no working heat, or lights and crowded because of the kids and family and roaches that stay there. How about going to the playground and seeing if it has basketball rims and a place to play for the little girls to jump rope and play four square, and whatever happened to monkey bars and a merry-go-round. Seriously I want to know, when was the last time they went to a school in the “hood” and experience no working heat there and or how about not having working bathrooms in school with no working toilets or toilet paper. How about books for these kids, the same kids you want to buy your CD and keep you in the lifestyle you want to portray in your videos. How about donating some of that money you want to brag about that you spend in one night to some schools so they can have supplies for the kids to get a better education. I am not talking about the little video shoot days that you do like T.I. did and use the kids in the neighborhood to give the camera the middle finger and that is supposed to be okay for them to do because why not; it is the cool thing to do because T.I. wants them to do it. Did you pay them the fee that a real child actor would have been paid or did you just give them a $100 and the rep of being in your videos. Then you want to go and sell guns to these kids so they can kill themselves for a lifestyle that most people never live. Our kids are supposed to think that this is cool, and then we are supposed to think you have changed because you talked to a couple of kids (publicity stunt) so the judge might be lenient on you.

Negro please, our kids need better, they deserve better just because you say you from the hood does not give you license to go back and destroy our kids with the nonsense you want to show them. See as I have said above my own people have always said to me that I am not black because I choose not to do the foolishness that they do. I have to ask why is it when you do something positive it is not being Black enough but here we have a man trying to sell destruction to our kids and that is being down with the hood, why?


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