Dear White People, Please Stop Invading My Space

Sometimes shit happens, and you feel the need to allow the reduction of anger, before attempting to express your frustration, but in this instance, I feel the intense desire to let loose.

Like most of you humans out there, I’m constantly on edge. I spend most of my time convincing myself and others that I’m completely in control of my senses. I recently downloaded a couple of those meditation apps that folks have been raving about, and while it has helped to settle me in the mornings for maybe five minutes, the effects wear off I soon as I step outside the door.

When I walk into spaces that aren’t protected by the predictability of my inner self and inner circle, there’s a level of anxiety that can only be diminished by the tracks of my years, but then I won’t dare walk around with headphones in my ears because I have to be ready and able to fend off attacks.

And the violation can range from deadly encounters to the artfulness of dodging the incoming grocery carts that are manned by aggressive White women, who don’t give a damn about whether or not they run you over because when it comes to who owns what — Black bodies are expected to instinctively create the path for Whiteness to flourish.

Of course dying on the streets of America after being pummeled with countless bullets from…