Since I was a young girl, I have been told I am very well-spoken. I have always had something to say about the injustice of the world. I do a lot of talking, but I do more than that. I listen to what people say, and what they don’t say, and watch how their actions unfold their character.
I ask you, the reader, to just listen. Try to put aside your own preconceived bias and come to a place of understanding, just for a moment. Listen to what I say, what I don’t say, and try to take away something new from this article.
I am 29 years old and in my third year of college. I went back to school because I kept encountering roadblocks, and I knew it was caused by my lack of a bachelor’s degree. In my early 20s, I worked as a massage therapist, a National Guard soldier, and a retail worker in many industries. However, the spaces I worked in typically had little diversity.
Once I am established in the culture, there is typically a conversation about race. Whether I bring it up, my colleagues bring it up, or current events spark a conversation, I am normally asked about my “experience” as a Black woman.
When I try to explain my experience, one of three things happens. The first one is a mutual understanding. They have been left to feel other than due to their own experience in the world, whether it is because of their race, gender, immigration status, etc, and they can empathize with not fitting into the status quo.
I can learn from these people because we are marginalized in society, but how that manifests looks different. I would be perceived differently if I were a different race, gender or even body size. Being open to hearing those stories makes me see that the system truly affects everyone.
Another response is physical discomfort paired with quietness. I don’t know for sure, but I think they don’t know what to say or how to respond to my experience, and it’s paired with a small amount of pity.
I think this is because racism spooks the average American. We can talk about it, but we don’t know what to do with it when it is up close and personal. It is like a small toddler throwing a fit at the most inappropriate time. It is easy to cast stones about how it should be handled when it’s far away, but if it’s your toddler, you are mortified.
The third one gets to me the most. It is almost as if you can feel the energy shift. The person’s face drops, and I can tell they have stopped listening. This is usually followed by a devil’s advocate statement as if my existence or experience should be debated.
I used to take this response to heart. I believed it was my fault for not explaining properly or not having the right language or education, and if I learned more and used the right language, they would get it. If only I could gently grab my younger self and tell her that you are wasting your time and stop talking to them; they don’t care. They can’t understand my experience.
This election taught me something: People who want to understand will. No matter how many statistics I present or what research I do, you can’t make someone care. And how exhausting is that?
That is why people could overlook the politics that came with Trump. His blunted sexism, racism and boys club mentality shouldn’t have won. However, we are far too familiar with it. We, as Americans, know these aren’t good qualities for our leaders. And yet, I could talk till I am blue in the face about all the horrible things he has done. But most Americans know these things and still thought he was the right choice.
Although Harris wasn’t my first choice for president, she was the obvious choice. She has had a long political career, her controversies nowhere near to the extent of Trump, and is calm and respectful when talking to the public about all American citizens. It is the bare minimum and has nothing to do with policy, and I felt that she was my only option.
Even when I voted for her, I had no hope that she would create long-term progress for my people because of the Democrats’ long history of pandering to get the black vote but taking a neutral stance. However, Trump and Republican policies target minorities in ways that would make progress even less attainable.
Having to explain why Trump shouldn’t have won seems insane to me. Constantly explaining why America is still racist and how Trump winning is proof of it seems futile. If you don’t get it, you aren’t paying attention. I can’t explain it anymore.
I am exhausted.
Black women, for the longest, have been tone-check and fact-checking more than any other demographic. We came and showed up for Harris because we could see the issues that Trump will bring. To our dismay, not our surprise, Trump won. However, it is time for Black women not to feel the burden of saving the day. It is time for us to get some rest, assistance, or something different.
Fighting oppression must be rigorous, or progress will not be made. My ancestors fought for the betterment of my people and all people. The best way to do this now is to distrust institutions that aim to oppress. It ends with the government but starts with the people—me and you.
That’s why it’s not just an election to Black women. This feels much more different. No matter how much Black women do or say, we need more people to pay attention to these world leaders. Listen to what they say and don’t say and how that shows their character. Don’t turn a blind eye because of promises that benefit the individual instead of the collective. We need more people to care about human rights, even those we don’t identify with.
If you feel uncomfortable at the end of this article, that’s good; you might understand. That discomfort is normal. It is the feeling of challenging your worldview by truly hearing out a different perspective. The question is, what are you going to do with that discomfort?
