If you want to get me heated, all you have to do is bring up Chikesia Clemons, and the beatdown that she received at the hands of thuggish White cops. If you want to break my heart, remind me of the gut-wrenching fate of Sandra Bland.
Malcolm X is known for shaping the historical landscape of America with his tireless quest as a civil rights leader that tragically cost him his life. And during one of his many speaking engagements, he let out an alarming confession that still serves as one of the most quoted lines in his library of gems:
My first reaction to this brutal truth was the instinctual defensiveness at the audacity of being a member of a group that is deemed “unworthy” of basic human respect, by those who demonically make the decision to treat us like shit on any given day.
But the truth does hurt. It hurts a lot.
There is nowhere to hide from the devastation of watching over-shared videos of young Black women being dangerously manhandled by White brutish cops, and how those harrowing episodes never elicit an ounce of empathy from White feminists, who shrug away the violence as just another predictable day in the country that was founded for the pure pleasure of coddling them.
Black women are routinely victimized for features that get Black girls and Black boys systemically punished by a biased school system, that teaches our children to develop insecurities about their appearances, so that when they reach adulthood, those damning instincts will continue to provide the limitations that will stifle progress.
It’s so damn bad that we actually need legislation in place, similar to the version that was recently drafted by the New York City Commission on Human Rights, that guarantees the protection of marked targets, who are in danger of being discriminated against in school and corporate environments, based on their natural hair, and the unique hairstyles that evidently pose a serious threat to school officials, otherwise known as racists bullies.
On the other hand, Kim Kardashian West and her replicant sisters, are able to garner applause and praise for establishing a new order in the beauty and fashion world with a lot of help from the loot they consistently and cunningly poach from the aesthetic of Black women, who are the true originators of every trend that elevates the presentation of idolized copy cats and their clueless followers.
But back to more serious matters.
I’ve finally been briefed on the unfathomable callousness of Jordanian-American author, Natasha Tynes, who is a self-described “minority writer” and that assigned label makes it very difficult to comprehend why she would take it upon herself to terrorize a Black woman, who was civilly riding the train, along with other passengers on the Red line of the Washington Metro.
Natasha couldn’t tolerate the sight of a uniformed employee of the Metro, indulging in her food, because of how it represented the double-standard of passengers being forced to obey the rules that Black women in uniform are defiantly willing to break, in full view of hateful women of color, who only claim solidarity when published think pieces yield profitable returns and the reward of sought-after verification.
The transparency of Natasha Tynes’ hate-fest has to be when the Metro responded to her complaint, and asked for further details. The fact that her conscience didn’t nag her enough to bring her back to humane tendencies, by forcing her to shut it all down at that moment, is the big reveal of how committed this woman was in her mission to fuck up the life of a stranger, who literally did nothing to deserve such vile treatment.
It’s remarkable that Natasha really thought she was doing something to preserve the lifespan of mankind, by not only violating the space and privileged privacy of a law-abiding Metro worker with published images that were not authorized by the harassed subject, who will hopefully retaliate with legal action, but also proudly sharing her ill-advised “activism” that was meant to destroy the livelihood of a Black woman who represents the definition of what “the grind” is all about.
Once the word spread, it didn’t take long for the appropriate ramifications to make deposits for the world to see, as the book project that was endorsed for the glossy debut quickly faded into mute mode, as distributors and publishing houses have begun the distasteful task of rightfully distancing their brands from what is essentially a lit match.
As always, once the pillars holding their world together starts to buckle under the pressure of being theatrically dragged by the platform that refused to participate in those smelly shenanigans, the cowardly troublemakers have no choice but to issue the generic half-assed apology, that’s devoid of sincerity or any hints of humility.
Before Natasha hastily switched her Twitter page to “private,” as you can see below:
I added my rejection of her empty summation of why she was motivated to perform such a heartless deed against someone who already has to contend with the burdensome station of being a part of a group that is unfairly mistreated, by those who have the power to torment for reasons that never dignify that level of abuse.
To be honest, I’ve reached the place where the instant gratification from the back-and-forth on social media platforms with the ammunition of an army of like-minded warriors no longer sustains a tangible sense of closure or justice.
We can’t continue to accept rushed apologies that are delivered from a place of fear and the regretfulness that has zero to do with the wrong doer’s full ownership of their assholish temperament, and everything to do with their need to effortlessly scrub away the stubborn stain on reputations that are swiftly tarnished from persistent pummeling of naysayers.
If Natasha Tynes is truly as talented a writer as she would like us to believe, then this would be the opportune time to demonstrate her prowess with words in the form of a heartfelt essay.
It should be curated to delve into the sub-layers of her psyche by offloading and assessing the epicenters of triggers, that causes her to assume the hostile role of an aggravator towards Black women, while also exerting her affiliation with minority groups, as the badge of honor that she doesn’t deserve based on her trifling display of inhumanness.
Black women are used to being routinely discarded by White feminists, but it’s an especially bitter pill to swallow when it comes from women of color, who are gracefully supported by Black women, until unearthed tweets expose how dark-skinned women are readily dehumanized by faux-allies, who inherently believe in their superiority.
We need to have progressive discussions with our women aggressors about why Black women seem to encourage the kind of rage and traitorous exclusion, that propels another woman of color to painstakingly document evidence of her bigotry and elitism in the sheath of a public service announcement, that’s meant to degrade the status of a victimized target, whose only crime was squeezing in a moment to devour food on a train.
The most disrespected woman in America is in this predicament of having her space violated by the women that feel entitled for that particular dishonor, because of the blatant messaging by Black men, that unfortunately doesn’t deviate that far from the language of oppressors.
Thanks to Tyler Perry, the “Black filmmaker who weaponizes Black women for gain,” and his roster of shitty movies that paint Black women in the imagery that allows for the nationalized abuse based on how “angry,” and “strong” we are in the face of unbearable challenges — it’s perfectly acceptable to unlawfully harass us in spaces that don’t warrant that kind of behavior.
Natasha Tynes can “go private” but she can’t hide forever.
We already know she’s a shameless coward, and there’s not much she can do to change that fact.
But she can at the very least try to meet us halfway, by making the effort to explain why it was necessary to grossly disrespect a Black woman in the ceremonious way that she did, and with the additional unapologetic stance of a righteous bitch, who had no qualms about touting the sting of her bitchiness with victorious relish.
If you start the fire, you deserve to burn. But while you’re burning, we just need to know why.