Charles Fox, Jr.

An Open Letter to Black Women: "Get Your Ish Together"

Black women, I hate to be the bearer of bad news but most of you really need to get it together. You are largely un-dateable, no man in his right mind would court you, you're only as good as the size of your rear end (and twerking abilities), and you are generally inferior to your non-Black counterparts. Do not attempt to counter-argue these claims, I read them on the they must be true.

I know that what I am writing comes off abrasive but nothing I say could ever be as abrasive as the way in which most of you conduct yourselves in public. The nerve of you, not acknowledging a slovenly yet suave man who went out of his way to say "What up Mami" to you. You should be more appreciative of being followed when you're just trying to make it home after a long day. The audacity you must possess, expecting to be spoken to like a human being and to not have the world of patriarchy and sexism assume that you are interested, aroused, available, and perpetually receptive (or in the mood) to be catcalled. You should acknowledge any man that finds it in the goodness of his heart to make an attempt at "bagging" you. After all, your humanity is worthy of being equated to a load of groceries, right? Milk, eggs, sugar, Kim, Bread, Jasmine, and Rita.

You should be thankful that the Kim Kardashians, Iggy Azaleas, Kylie Jenners, and several other random non-Black women in the pop culture spectrum have done you the courtesy of popularizing the very features that you have historically been ostracized and denigrated for having. Isn't that something? The very same features that landed women like Sarah "Saartjie" Baartman in a circus freak show, now earn non-Black women millions of precious dollars. Rejoice at their trendsetting skills. Sure, there are Black women who profit from being "Bootylicious" as well. However, for every Nikki Minaj, Beyonce, or Amber Rose....there are millions of nameless unknown Black women who walk around burdened by having the very same physical attributes as their world famous peers. Find comfort in that...?

Marriage is the sole purpose for which you exist. You were ordained by God to carry the Mandingo babies of some high-powered Black CEO type. Since there aren't many out there....I guess you are sugar honey iced tea out of luck. See, if you aren't married, you aren't actually a woman. You are a woman in training. You're a Star Wars Jedi Padawan, just learning from the Obi Wan Kenobi's of matrimonial bliss. Instead of fighting the dark side and the Sith Lords, you are fighting to find keep a man, honey. You may be educated, self-sufficient, independent, and totally awesome but you made the mistake of being born in to a society that will often place value on the way in which you appeal to someone else, rather than the unique gifts you bestow upon the world individually. How dare you? If you aren't "completing" a man, you're a rookie to the game and "Game recognize game, Granddad."

The internet tells me that you will have to "marry down." You know, as in marry a man who doesn't have your level of education, class, or sophistication. Basically, you are going to marry Bookman from "Good Times," regardless of your lot in life or how many zeros occupy your bank account. It's Bookman...or Pookie from "New Jack City," a reclamation project. God forbid you marry a good intelligent man, a good person, and that you base his merits on more than the superficial and ultimately trivial things he's achieved on the surface. What kind of a lunatic would do that? If you have to choose, choose a man with a Juris Doctorate, a Master's Degree, an M.B.A., a six figure salary, an arrogance problem, and no time for you before you choose a humble, wise, hardworking, loving, and protective, man with a few semesters of community college under his belt.

Lastly, let me touch upon your complete lack of respect for those around you. How dare you wear your hair in its natural state? Natural? Who do you think you are? Don't you know that you must wear your hair in the manner that makes outsiders most comfortable? Your hair is community property, after all. That's why your co-workers touch it without your permission. You can't just abstain from the perm without sending out a memo to every Black man who might come in contact with you. It's just not right. I mean, if I was going to cut my hair or beard a certain way, I'd be sure to send out an email and cc every Black woman I know just to give them a heads up. It's just common courtesy. Not that I have to, as a man, I can do whatever the hell I want, society be damned.

You don't belong to yourself. You and your body belong to the many eyes and minds that will surely mentally dissect and consume you on a daily basis. You want to get a perm? Send a memo. You want a breast reduction because your double D's are giving you back problems? Send a memo and ask permission. Your breasts, after all, are intended for male aesthetic pleasure you know. Want to breastfeed in public? Don't. Only expose your breasts if you are dancing in the French Montana video, then it's cool. You want to go natural? Send a memo. You want to cut your hair? Send a memo. Tell your man (assuming you are among the select group of Black women who are lucky enough to actually have one). Always accept less from Black men than you think you deserve because after all, the bar is lower for brothers and the standards should be adjusted as such.

Don't kill the messenger. I'm just relaying what I've read and heard. This is the legit truth I'm writing to you. Call it tough love. I'm keeping this one hundred because I'm looking out for you and want you to achieve everything you can in life. Starting with finding a man. After all, that is your solitary and singular goal in life, right? I mean...the internet and the countless intellectuals and voices (male and female) who populate it told me this. They had to be correct because they used the hashtag "#Facts" at the end.

On the off chance that you didn't catch the irony/satire with which I speak, I leave you with this: "If I didn't define myself for myself, I would be crunched into other people's fantasies for me and eaten alive." -Audre Lorde

© Copyright 2015, Charles Fox, Jr.
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