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© Tanesha Nicole Graham and www.tnicolesgrahamcrackercrumbs, 2014. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Tanesha Nicole Graham and www. tnicolesgrahamcrackercrumbs.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
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Running on Fumes
I’m tired. Full stop. There’s no ‘but’, ‘however’ or ‘although’ that follows that statement.
I’m tired. The kind of emotional and mental exhaustion that manifests itself physically.
I, like so many Black people, are solely existing and going through life in a fog of anger, despair, and conscious, tempered rage that we have no choice but to push/work through. I’m tired of re-sharing my racial trauma for the white masses to “learn from”.
Why? Why is it my/our responsibility? Why do I have to periodically open up a long festering wound just to show you that it exist? Why do I have to show that which is raw and oozing, forever weeping? As if you seeing the damage inflicted in real time wasn’t proof enough.
Yes, you saw every lash of the racism whip every time you said nothing when a comment was made about my hair/education/experience/tone of voice, etc. You saw the thin veneer of safety ripped away when you knew that cronyism and nepotism were in full working order and you did/said NOTHING. You said nothing because you 100% benefited, either directly or indirectly, from structural racism.
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Posted by grahamcrackercrumbs09 on August 30, 2020 in Social Commentary
Tags: #BLM, Opinion, Politics, Protest, racism, Reflections, Say Their Names, Social, Social Commentary