Jes Saying #EverythingIsLove

***Warning  This is a political piece***

You been warned.

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Four hours after Apeshit.

In the midst of a music mix of Everything is Love.

And I am scrolling through twitter feeds full of justifications and speculations.

Normally I’m silent.

Because we must recognize that there are times that we choose to walk into our pains.

Or our own stresses.

And being quiet and ignoring foolishness.

Keeps my peace.

And sanity.

But today I speak.

This full blackness in the Louve.  Black artistry in the midst of white worlds. The shapes. Flesh tones. Movements. The Love.

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Is beautiful. Magnificent.

However there are those

(hoteping to be hotep)

That say “’why”.  That claim we are attempting to assimilate.

Into a world that is not ours.

To be whitewashed into believing what is beautiful.

What is art.

What is. And what we are not.

And bowing at the feet of people who enslaved us.

How dare us.

Dance in a museum that looks like this.

When there are places that look like that.

So dance there.  With us. And love us.  And fuck them.

 

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And I respond “How dare you….

How long must we be allowed to run to spaces so comfortable that we allow the world to forget what we created?”

That these building were raised on black sweat.

These cities created in black thought

Their promise came from my ancestors’ blood.

And every one these places is my birthright.

Seeing Beyoncé standing in these spaces in her Queendom is my magic.  A King standing on his throne is saying we shall not be forgotten. And they giving us the premise to acknowledge what we are and  where we should be.

Saying to the white masses you cannot erase us.

Nor will we code-switch for your comfort.

If this world was the way that it was intended to be….

All art is ours. White. Asian.  African. Indian. Spanish. Mexican.

All stories.  All places.  All people.

All.  The world is many faces…and all of it has been given to us to share.  It is all our birthright.

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But we are caught in this bullshit called racism.

The justification of hate. The Nots. And Nos. Capitalism. Elitism.  The putting down of people in order to feel important.

Better than.

Big dicked.

And this argument is so tiring and frustrating because we are having to spend time, tireless years, and decades fighting for people to see us.  Honor our words. Our fight. Our thoughts. Our lives.  Just to be equal. For justice.  Just to be able to breathe without prejudice.  To walk in this world with love and not be taken for granted because of ignorance.

To not die because you are uncomfortable.

Or your dick is deflated.

It is exhausting.  Backbreaking.  It takes such a toll.  To try to convince someone that you exist and you are deserving of the same exact space that they have.  The same spot that that they stole.

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The position that they received because of bloodshed.

We cannot live in the simple peace that this world has promised because of the ignorance and power of hate.

So we have to scream loud in spaces that don’t look like us.

Let people stare.

Touch hair.

To remind them who we are.

And who we were.

And what we desire and deserve to be.

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All spaces are ours.  But work must be done from the majority.  See, they want us to assimilate and come to them.  We should not move until our culture comes with us.  It is the fabric, the drumbeat, the color that created this world.  So there is not freedom behind, “I see no color”…the freedom comes with, “I appreciate you”.

The cries of racism, bigotry, nepotism, is not the cries of us wanting to be you.  To be white.  To be anything other.

The cries is to be one self.  Unapologetically. In any space of this world.

To hold my child.

To walk away from harm.

To educate my mind.

To stroll a neighborhood.

To build a home.

To create revenue.

To love.

To end toxicity.

To live without fear.

And rage.

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And that is why I applaud standing in the Louve. To walk places that my ancestors paved…that their cousins and friends created. To follow all the pieces of the blood line back to my roots and kiss the ground and let them know I am gracious.

And I will not let them be forgotten.

And I will not forget me in the process.

 

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It is all our spaces.

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