Poet (s) online

#CarefreeBlackWoman: One Day At A Time

Supposedly I am a cynic, but in reality I am a pretty chill gal. I dig indie alternative/soul/hip-hop, films, Netflix/Hulu Plus/HBOGo, pop culture, novels, newspapers, witty conversations, and the list goes on. I used to be told I'm not your average black girl, and it used to be badge. Now it's just a reminder by how ignorant, small minded, and racist folks are. Trying to live carefree, but it's difficult when everything around you tells you otherwise.

My name's Bianca, a 23 year-old college graduate and forever an intern.

I think I found the only dress that I may love more than a pair of jeans #smock #dress #foxy #kneehighsocks #fashion #watchoutsummer

I think I found the only dress that I may love more than a pair of jeans #smock #dress #foxy #kneehighsocks #fashion #watchoutsummer

msjwilly:

There’s a change.org petition going around that is asking for Comedy Central to give me my own spot after The Daily Show! People keep bringing it up to me and it’s like, a strange thing to ignore (for the sole purpose of being politically correct). SO I want to like, take a moment and say thank you to those that created it and signed it. That is unbelievably nice of you. And I am so very very honored to like, even be a person that some people would consider a candidate to slip into that 11:30 spot. (sounds like sex!)

That being said, I’m sure Comedy Central already has something dope in the works to take that particular spot (teehee sex again!) after the Daily Show. I’m sure it will be great and funny and wonderful! I can’t wait to see what it is.

BUT whatever happens with that slot, just know that I appreciate your support. Also know that right now I am in the middle of creating and working on some VERY dope things. Not necessarily the exact way that you lovelies have envisioned it, maybe something, dare I say it- ESPECIALLY & MAGNIFICENTLY DOPER. Y’all shall see soon, ya hear?!

One Million Namastes,

Jessica  Williams

(via popculturebrain)

Time is Illmatic premiered last night at Tribeca Film Festival and it’s getting pretty great reviews.

It just sucks that I couldn’t go, even though I worked on the documentary last summer. It was more of not having the time to go.

I haven’t even seen the final product yet.

But I’m super excited to see it, the guys who produced it where so chill.

That was one of the coolest gigs I’ve had and it was unpaid.

jthommy13:

BEAUTIFUL BLACK WOMEN»>

jthommy13:

BEAUTIFUL BLACK WOMEN»>

(via blackbeatnik)

My parents have someone here to look at something in the house and he’s been here for over 2 hours and they’re just having some deep ass conversation. But it’s around the time I usually have lunch. I don’t want to go downstairs because I’m still in my pjs and I don’t feel like introducing myself to some stranger. My parents being home for their Spring Break is fuckin’ up my entire schedule.

"There’s a paradox in thinking that you’re better than other girls, when your whole reason for feeling that way is because you think your gender is so inherently inferior that you want to dis-identify with being a girl altogether."

-

More Than Words: Tomboys R Us

THIS whenever some girl brags about being “one of the boys” or says something like “I’m not like other girls, I LOVE [stereotypically masculine thing].” (via giraffodill)

(via elektriklady)

My mother was telling me last week that a bunch of girls came up to her asking ‘what she is’. It was three Dominican-American girls and one Black American girl. They listed off a bunch of things (Dominican, Puerto Rican, Indian, etc etc).

When my mother said she was just black, they didn’t believe her. They told her that black women couldn’t have “nice long hair” and that their hair was supposed to be short and nappy. Or that black women couldn’t be beautiful.

My mother explained as nicely as she can that she has a perm and that black women’s hair comes in all shapes and sizes. She also explained to them that they’re as much ‘black’ as she is. As you can imagine this didn’t go well with the girls. They couldn’t imagine being black because all of their short lives they’ve been told they’re not and that blackness = ugliness. And if you are black it must be black and “something else” to be considered beautiful.

What was weird about this conversation was that there was a young identifying black girl with this group of girls and just stood there as these other girls bashed black women. Essentially bashing themselves in the process. My mother ended up bringing this up and they claimed that she was a “different” black. Again, completely bashing themselves.

I’m glad I have a very strong black mother who raised me to love my blackness and to not think my beauty was because of my “something else” (i.e white). It’s just sad to hear children who are too young to understand that they’re being taught to hate themselves and they don’t even know it.

thechanelmuse:

Anita (Ardmore, PA) | “Guyanese-American”

“‘Negro’ certainly is a passé term from way back when. We got over ‘Negro,’ we got to be ‘Black and Proud,’ and I’m still Black and proud. I always liked the term ‘Black’ because it doesn’t leave people out. I find ‘Black’ a more encompassing term than ‘African-American.’ ‘African-American’ leaves me out in a way.”

Rosa (Bronx, NY) | “Black Puerto Rican”

“You have a lot of incredible Afro-Latino activists who still don’t say that they’re Black. What they say is that they’re ‘African-descended.’ They say they’re ‘Afro-Latino.’ But a lot of people still won’t say that they’re Black. I think most of people’s issue with calling themselves Black is psychological. It’s fear. If you don’t have to be Black, why would you want to say that? In this country, everything Black is negative. I didn’t start calling myself Black until I was a sophomore in college. But once I learned about the power of the Young Lords and the Black Power Movement, I was like, ‘Why wouldn’t I want to say I was Black?’”

Kenya (Atlanta, GA)“Black”

“As an African-American, many of us trace White blood in our lineage to slavery and my family background is no different. The bottom line is my parents are Black, their parents are Black, my great grandparents are Black, and that makes me Black. I know there are people who are looking and thinking ‘She’s not Black.’ And that’s fine too. At the end of the day, I’m Black because I’m Black.”

Marianna (Baltimore, MD)“Black“

“I get ‘exotic’ a lot ‘cause people can’t really pinpoint. ‘Is she Dominican?’ ‘Is she Trini?’ ‘Is she Black and Filipino?’ ‘Is she Black and Japanese?’ It’s almost like they can’t tell so that’s alluring. All they know is it’s not ‘just Black’ and that’s all that matters. They think it’s ‘Black and something,’ but it’s that ‘something’ that they’re more focused on and that holds their attention a little bit more.”

Ariel (Brooklyn, New York)“Black”

“In Cuba, some people don’t see me as Black. Even Black people will deny my Blackness. Since I was a child, people gave me different names like ‘el chino’ because when I was younger I was really looking more like a Chinese. And then they called me names connected with my race and my ethnicity like ‘mulatto’ or ‘moro.’ They tried to emphasize that I was different because my skin is Black, but my hair is ‘White.’ So for many people in Cuba, I am mulatto or I am interracial – they don’t consider me Black. I think it goes back to the plantation days when slaves had a child with the owner, and for being less dark, that child would have a better job and a better position in society. Cuba has a long history of Whiteness in that sense – many Black people consider themselves as moving forward in society when they marry somebody White or when their kids are less dark.”

Soledad (New York, NY)“Black Latina”

“People ask me ‘What are you?’ all the time. People tweet me that question. I used to take great offense, like immediately get annoyed; partly because I didn’t think the question came from a very good place. I think I read it as questioning my value and my reasons for being wherever I was. But now, I think it’s two-fold: One, I think that because I’m a journalist, people are really just trying to understand who I am. ‘You’re somebody I see on TV, but I don’t know you in person, so who are you?’ So often, it’s not really about the question. It’s about ‘What side are you on?’ and ‘What perspective do you bring?’ Then two, I think that part of my job as a journalist is to educate people about stories and some of these stories I’m a part of. I’m part of ‘Black in America’ even in the context of who is the filter of the story.  So I’ve really gotten much better at taking that question and I’ve stopped hating it so much. It’s my job to elaborate and explain for people who I am. My mom is Afro-Cuban. My dad is White and Australian. I’m Black. I’m Latina.”

Malene(Brooklyn, NY) | “Black of Mixed Heritage”

“Trinidad is a cosmopolitan nation, probably more racially diverse than the rest of the Caribbean. We have descendants of European enslavers, freed Africans and enslaved Africans, Chinese and other Asian migrants, and a small East Indian population. You have all these mixtures and the mixtures are acknowledged. So I’m not Black in Trinidad; they consider me to be Chinese creole. They use all kinds of terms to identify people based on their racial makeup – ‘Indian,’ ‘negro,’ ‘creole,’ ‘Chinese creole,’ ‘Spanish,’ ‘coolie,’ ‘dougla.’ A ‘coolie,’ for example, is an East Indian. ‘Dougla’ is the mix of Black and East Indian. There’s really no difference between the two. It’s like saying ‘nigger’ and ‘nigga.’ To me, it’s all offensive. All of it comes from hateful places.”

Liliane (São Paulo, Brasil) | “Black”

“In Brasil, people of my color can be considered either Black or White, but it would depend on the situation, and it would also depend on the social and educational condition of the people who are seeing you. So what happens is that when someone of lower socioeconomic status sees me, they would treat me as White. But if I go to a high-class restaurant, where the people are of a higher status than me, people treat me as Black. Usually the general thought for Brasilians is that the place for Black people is in the kitchen or on the soccer field or in samba. So if you are not in one of those places, it’s like ‘Who are you and who allowed you to be here?’ And you can feel it.”

Adrian (Brooklyn, NY) | “Black Puerto-Rican”

“I think part of the misconception about Blackness is that it’s a skin color. For me personally, it’s just my way of life. Whether it’s my bloodline and family history, or the neighborhood I grew up in and the people I grew up with, or something as simple as the food that I eat, there’s so many different ways that I can identify with Blackness to where if somebody were to ask me, “Adrian, what makes you Black?” I would probably just counter the question with, “What doesn’t make me Black?” It’s not even something that I’m trying to prove. It’s just in me.”

Lauren (Philadelphia, PA) | “Black and Italian / African-American“

“The one-drop rule is not about letting society tell you who you are, but about understanding the structures around you that are already in place. It’s about understanding the complexities of Black identity and how you fit into that. At the same time, it doesn’t take away from your individuality and the beauty of your personal background or our collective history.”

(via dynastylnoire)

"Here’s the scenario: two children, one white and one black, walk into an exhibition filled with portraits of white people. Both children enjoy it. After the exhibition they make self-portraits out of food. The black child asks for brown ingredients – cocoa pops, hot chocolate powder – to represent his skin in the portrait. The white child does not bother with colour in the same way. Her whiteness is not a colour that needs to be marked or thought about, it is naturalized as normal, a seamless part of the wall-to-wall whiteness of the surrounding exhibition. On closer inspection the portraits show further nuances of colouring and also commonality. Other features such as nose, lips, eyes and hair were not represented mimetically. As the brown skin colour of the portrait on the left stands out because of its purposeful colouring, it creates a link between the child and their artwork, making visible what is taken for granted in this space – whiteness."