Ferguson Abroad

So last night something really interesting happening. I was asked to speak at a vigil commemorating Mike Brown’s unjustified death and supporting the protesters in Ferguson. That’s not the interesting thing. I was invited to do so by a group on campus that has very left-wing views and is predominantly made up of white men. The interesting part is that for a few weeks prior many of these same people acted as if I didn’t exist and my words did not matter. Suddenly my words mattered. They astonishingly had depth because I was able to speak on a subject that you presumed I know about. Here is what solidified my feelings about speaking. Before we started, the person who presented me asked me my name about three times so that he would remember it (we’ve been introduced about three or four other times). After me telling him my name three times, he introduced me wrongly. He gave me an entirely new name! He of course corrected himself with some help from others. However I couldn’t help but question my significance there. Here I was, giving the Black American perspective, and you couldn’t help to remember my name. Oh wait! You never knew my name. I was more of a figure piece. That’s just the guy who introduced me. The guy who asked me to speak is an actual prick.

The guy who asked me is extremely rude. He is the type of guy who studies the revolutionaries and adopts their principles, but he does not know when to stop talking and has a problem interrupting people. He is a typical man who can’t help but hear himself speak. He can’t handle that I’m a little deeper than I appear to be. When I meet certain types of people, I don’t reveal to them the true level of my intelligence. I know that I am smart and have always been, but I don’t feel the need to parade it in people’s faces. Besides you can’t discuss your love for Bell Hooks and respectability politics in Hip Hop with everyone. Back to this guy. Everyone around him does what he says and he treats people as if he has the highest level of intellect. I’m not the one. One day he interrupted me too many times while I was speaking so I had to put dat azz on lock and be out. You feel me? It’s safe to say I’m not a huge fan of these people.

The vigil was commemorative. I spoke about how Ferguson isn’t an isolated issue and I also made it clear that these privileged, posh white people have no fucking idea what is really going on. I appreciated them asking me. Even with all my politics surrounding this group, I would have preferred to hear my voice discuss the issue over theirs. However I do question my significance in being there. I guess I have to resolve it within myself.

Isn’t this the issue with a lot of blacks in predominantly white areas? We always have to reason and resolve our presence in race-related issues. Hmm I guess it’s some food for thought.

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