Every single person who reblogs this will get the song that immediately pops into my head when I see your url in your ask
"Some lose all mind and become soul, insane. Some lose all soul and become mind, intellectual. Some lose both and become accepted."
"I’ll be honest with you, I’m a little bit of a loner. It’s been a big part of my maturing process to learn to allow people to support me. I tend to be very self-reliant and private. And I have this history of wanting to work things out on my own and protect people from what’s going on with me."
Let me tell you something, white folks. From one white person to another.
You are in everything. 99 percent of Hollywood movies feature your faces. 99 percent of magazine covers are covered in you. The Emmy Awards and Oscars are almost entirely you. If you Google “beautiful people” the screen is covered in white faces. Black girls (and boys) are taught from birth that there is one version of beauty, and it is you. Many black girls go their entire lives thinking they are ugly, thinking they need to be lighter, straighter, whiter in order to have value. Everything that you see every day that reaffirms your whiteness; every commercial that has a nice white lady embodying the perfect “mom;” every magazine that has blue eyes and bone-straight hair; every Hollywood blockbuster that has a leading lady with skin never darker than Halle Berry… all of these things are reinforcements of your identity that you take for granted.
You may be fat. You may have hair that curls up at the ends. You may even have acne. But your face is everywhere. Your people are everywhere. What in your heart recoils when you see Black Girls Rock? What bone in your body sees empowerment for black girls and thinks “that’s not fair”? Where is your bitterness rooted? What do you think has been taken from you when women of color are uplifted?
All of the things you take for granted are what you’re protecting when you shout down Black Girls Rock: your whiteness, the system that upholds your face as the supreme standard of beauty, your place in the center of a culture that demands people of color remain hidden in the margins, present but only barely and never overshadowing the white hero/heroine. Your discomfort with black girls who rock tells me that you prefer the status quo: you prefer for black faces to remain hidden, you prefer for America’s heroes to have white faces, you prefer for black actresses to wear aprons and chains.
This is not to say that white girls don’t rock. I’m white. I kind of rock. But this conversation isn’t about you, it isn’t about us. Why must everything always be about us? It doesn’t have to be. And it shouldn’t be. From one white person to another… please sit down. Queen Latifah is on and you’re blocking the screen."
—Olivia Cole on “Why I’m Not Here For #WhiteGirlsRock”
#whitegirlsrock was a hashtag reaction that soon generated on twitter in response to the #blackgirlsrock hashtag due to the award show that recently took place. Poet, author and activist Olivia Cole (not to mention enlightened caucasian individual) responded in this piece in the Huffington Post. Read more here.
Personally what hurts my heart the most is, there’re black people saying this too. Mostly men— haven’t seen any black women tweet about #whitegirlsrock (yet). I hope I don’t
anytime soon ever.
Now I have very deep rooted feelings about the topic of Black men and their
lack of appreciation for Black women. Not all….but a lot. I shall write a detailed piece in due time, when I’m able to speak more objectively on the matter. For now this has become #blackgirlsrock vs #whitegirlsrock debate and all I have to say on the matter is, in the words of good ole Olivia Cole, “WHITE GIRLS, THIS CONVERSATION ISN’T ABOUT YOU”.