I cried for us today, I cried for our freedom.

Ok so background on the situation before I start this... whatever it turns out to be...

So the young lady I am courting is a wonderful photographer and she did a photographic coverage of the Sean Bell Verdict in Queens, NY. So many of the pictures are moving and capture the raw emotion of all the people this case touched. The last picture of this series is a young black member of the New Black Panther Party leading a chant before a group of protestors. This picture led to me and the person I was on the phone with researching the New Black Panther Party which led to a hidden treasure land of militant intelligent black people. Then while being overwhelmed by this site, BET was showing X, the Malcolm X movie. All these emotions combined led to me in tears, having an extremely wonderful conversation with my suitemates and then to this "blog"....

The first scene of the movie X that was on when I turned on the TV was where he was looking up the definition of "black". this is what it still says to this day:

1 a: of the color black
2 a: having dark skin, hair, and eyes
3: dressed in black
4: dirty , soiled
5 a: characterized by the absence of light
6 a: thoroughly sinister or evil
7: connected with or invoking the supernatural and especially the devil
8 a: very sad, gloomy, or calamitous
9: characterized by hostility or angry discontent

the definition of white says:

1 a: free from color
2 a: being a member of a group or race characterized by light pigmentation of the skin: marked by upright fairness (that's mighty white of you)
3: free from spot or blemish: as a (1): free from moral impurity : innocent

I then looked around my dorm room and nearly every image i saw, from the posters to the cereal boxes, were all covered with white person after white person. From day one we are always taught the the opposite of who we are and what we are is what beatiful is. That our skin, our hair, our noses, lips, and bodies are all ugly. We are constantly bombarded with images of people in successful positions that look different from us And that success for us is Flavor Flav or Soulja Boi. Those should not be our greatest asperations. We should look at these people and shake our heads in shame...
Although I have nothing against the individual white people I know, I would much rather be in a college amongst people that look like me, experienced the same ordeals as I, and that was set up by people who died for me to recieve a top notch education. This was the goal of HBCU's but as we all know, the mental slavery that we are held captive under has made individuals in the past squander the oppurtunities and spit on the intentions and goals of the people who felt that we shouldnt have to get a white education to have a good education.
The goal of Howard was to be the Harvard of African American Schools. And now most HBCU's are looked at as party schools, Howard has one of the Highest HIV rates, and alot of employers would chose a Harvard Student over an HBCU student although Howard offers an education that would probably surpass that of any Ivy League School.
This disgust me because the point of our schools was not to have the most "poppin" homecoming. it was to learn about our true home and appreciate our culture.
I am in no way trying to offend people who go to HBCU's because there is no place I'd rather be. HBCU's offer some of the best educational programs in the country. But because of the actions of SOME of the people who attend these schools, it has tarnished the name in a sense.
I wish I lived in a place where I was seen as beautiful. Where HBCU's were not known for wild late night parties and getting "fucked up" and having the most naked "bitches" at out homecoming. I wish that we would all wake up.
So I cried.
I cried out of anger
I cried out of dissapointment
I cried out of loneliness
I cried because if even just one of us is still trapped in the binds of mental slavery then we all are.
I cried because every fucking person on my cereal box is white.
I cried because we have been played against each other to the point where we hate ourselves.
I cried because my Nefertiti necklace, my african name, and my discontent with any injustice makes my peers look at me as different or weird.
I cried because more people will comment on a 25 facts note than this note.
I cried because my family accepts children out of wedlock before they do an intelligent lesbian.
I cried because most African Americans still think Jesus looks like their bill collector.
I cried because Malcolm X isnt here.
I cried because people will be offended by this note and not see it for what it really is.
I cried because we no longer rule the most fertile and lush land.
I cried for my children.
I cried for my friends.
I cried for my ex girlfriends.
I cried for my sisters and brothers.
I cried for Africa.
I cried for freedom.