Flower

Diary of a black pro-lifer — Earning my blackness

Black students accuse black pro-lifer of being on the plantation because she did not adhere to the thoughts assigned to her by the black community.

Black students accuse black pro-lifer of being on the plantation because she did not adhere to the thoughts assigned to her by the black community.

by Jacqueline Hawkins

At the Old Dominion University (ODU) GAP, a group of irate black female students berated our newest staff member Joanna Keilson for being white, blatantly airing their putrid racism for all to see.

“You white!  You got yo white husband and yo privilege and yo big house!”  The only thing they really got right was the color of her skin.

I stepped in, and they turned their anger towards me.  Much of what they said was unintelligible; I don’t speak Ebonics very well.  However, every now and then, some of the insults came through.  There was talk of Trump and my being enslaved.

I was called a “nigga” and a “bitch”.  This might seem harsh, but in the black community these words are bandied about frequently, often in friendly terms.  People refer to their enemies, acquaintances, and friends this way.  They even refer to their children this way.

One of them said, “You’re beautiful.  You look like an African queen with your locks, your earrings and your skirt, but you ain’t black!  You ain’t black!”

She then became hysterical, a caricature screaming in my face, an unintelligible tirade, complete with wild gestures and facial expressions.  Pretty much done with the parody she had morphed into, I moved onto talk with more reasonable students.

But let’s go back to that interesting statement she made in regards to my genetic profile.  “You ain’t black.”  I’m not?  Oh dear.  You mean I haven’t earned the color of my skin?  Whatever do I have to do to earn my coco brown flesh?  Blame white people for everything?  See racism in every single aspect of society?

Hmm … let’s narrow this declaration down to the context of the situation, but expand its implication. “You ain’t black” she said, because I was standing behind the barricade with the pictures of dead children, along with my white co-workers.

What do I have to do to earn my blackness?  Support the sexual revolution on steroids in the black community, where we mate and breed like animals?  Where we see that behavior as normal, going as far as to say that marriage really isn’t for black folks?  Mindlessly listen to and applaud music by top black “artists” who promote a life of debauchery in premarital sex, drugs, violence, and the abject objectification of women (particularly black women)?

How can I be truly black?  Encourage black women to kill their children at a proportionately higher and faster rate than any other race in the country?  Accept the demise of the same black community through the barbaric sacrifice of its innocent children?  And then settle for the over 70% of black children who were actually allowed to live to be shot in the foot by being born into illegitimacy?  Settle for these children being set up for, at the very least, a childhood fraught with poverty, youth violence on the streets, drugs, and the plethora of problems that arises from daddy issues and broken homes?

Oh, I’m so sorry that I do not support the rampant debauchery in the black community.  I’m so sorry that I expect more from and promote and work to return the black community back to the strong Christian entity that it was.

Once upon a time, we had intact families.  We carved out lives for ourselves without the help of the government.  We were upstanding citizens, even when the country didn’t consider us citizens.  We had fathers!

Excuse me for not believing in the racist notion that my thoughts should be assigned to me purely because of the color of my skin.  Forgive me for believing that black people should be held to a Christian standard–the standard that our ancestors fought for the freedom to adequately live by.

If this makes me not truly black, then I’ll just have to live with the color of my skin being no more than that–a phenotypic trait.

Jacqueline Hawkins is a CBR Project Director and a regular FAB contributor.

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