I’m am missing my sisters a lot at this moment. I hate feeling restricted by what I don’t have. If I could just go and fly and be a real human, then I would. The world won’t help us, we only have each other.
I’m not sure how all of this turned so…dreary. I mean, all of us feel the same way. It wasn’t as if our parents didn’t do enough…It might have been interesting to compare our lives and situations to friends or neighbors…but there were no black families next door. The closest black people to live near us, well, were utterly un-relatable. Unfortunate.
It’s not until now looking back, after so much time denying and qualifying, that I understand what was happening to me from day one. As a smart, black, female, people must be surprised, shocked, upset….because there is a disconnect between their perception of you and the image you present them. People think they flatter with speculations of your “white” schooling. A literal quote “So..did you go to a good school…with lots of white people? Okay that makes sense now!” And for all of those “well, that’s just how it is, it’s 2013, not a big deal anymore” I don’t deny that “it’s just how it is” and my situation could have fared worse. But it’s lonely and discontent to be good, do right, work hard….and be constantly questioned. High school was a long sad joke. College was a longer, sadder joke. And now I sit in this period, with this lover or that, as he wonders what reasons could I possibly have for being so broken.
The little this’ and thats are like specks of rust on a once solid piece of metal. With enough weather, everything weakens. Even people who have “no excuse” to complain about their lives or what was given to them. Our only real privilege was to be born of highly educated parents. Still, with less money and less influence than their less educated, less ethnic counter-parts.
And so, it all begs the question, why bother? No one relates, no one cares…it’s tiring answering to these ignorant shits who talk down to us as if they are gracing us with their uninsightful nothings.
But I say this sisters: We are four black girls in this world, related directly by blood, and molded by the same frame work. For whatever semantics or analysis one might direct toward this situation…this is beating us. Depression grips the dark brown tendons of our souls. It is not easy to reconcile that we were born with more talent than some may hope to acquire in a life-time and yet here we lay. Hurt and down-trodden. But it’s true, we are better. Let’s not let them beat that truth out of us while we’re young. Because right now, this is beating us. But it doesn’t have to. I’m not saying let’s fight, I myself grow tired of that too. I’m saying remember, that we are better. We’re not going to let the world dictate who we are or where we go. Modern stratifications have ensured a difficult bi-lateral way of living for colored people like us. So we don’t fit in anywhere. But eff ‘em all. We are too smart, too beautiful, too superior, to let this beat us. We are the Reeder girls.