Right now, being a black woman might seem pretty lit. We’re finally being heard by the beauty industry. Our style is mainstream and influential. We have litty hashtags, and we’re even political powerhouses. And haven’t you heard? We just saved America, yet again.
In an overwhelming, yet, somehow not shocking turn of events, black women made history in Alabama last week. 98% of black women voted Democrat Doug Jones into the Senate seat left vacant by United States Attorney General Jeff Sessions.
Before any of you start, I am from the heart of Dixie. Please miss me with the comments of how proud you are for Alabamians stepping up and doing the “right” thing. Alabama is no different, nor more underdeveloped than your home state. Donald Trump was elected as president by one universal factor, and they can be found in any and every county in the United States: white women.
I do not believe in generalizations, but let’s be fair. By holding black women to the unfathomable standards of saving a country that routinely wipes its boots on our backs, isn’t it fair to call out those who are a little less charitable with their superhero skills?
White women have to be the most powerful beings on this planet. You have the most untapped potential on this planet; white women have been known to move lesser mountains than electing political officials, so why in God’s name are you calling for the secret sidekick to save the day when Wonder Woman only shows up for the photo opps?
In the words of a mammy character written by a southern sorority girl, “we is tired, white women.” We is tired of saving you from your “as long as Christ forgives him” narratives about pedophiles as long as they are not the color of Chicken George. We is tired of not being invited to your pu**y hat knitting parties, then ridiculed for not waiting our turns for the next go-round. We is tired of saving the day while Wonder Woman gets the front cover of Time Magazine, while our faces are crammed behind the Table of Contents. But, do keep writing your op-eds about how we saved the day.
Personally, I don’t want to be Captain Save-A-Hoe anymore. It is not my job to save people from their terrible actions, especially when there is no opportunity for them to learn from them. Wise up and vote logically. Speak up and follow through. I believe as allies, we can accomplish so much more.
I know we’ve gone at this dance a few times, but believe me, intersectionality ain't that hard of a concept to understand.