The Ebonics Rockstar In Morocco
Black Talk is a cultural map that charts word meanings along the highways and byways of African American life. Do not blame me for my blackness just because I came from Morocco, com´on man!
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“Yo, waz up, here your hated niggah!!! Ah 'on know what homey be doin."
Translation: “Hello, what have you been up to, this is your adored white friend, I do not know what you my black-listed friend are usually doing.”
Being black in Mrickah (America) is a fight, a long and hard battle to be treated humanely. The stereotypical idea of black people is often portrayed as loud, ignorant, and thuggish, which I am!
Yo, waz up, your hated niggah here, I aint didnt do nuttin tho !!!
Anyone can see the true image of myself. It is often not seen as beneficial being black, being in the shape that society shapes black people into. Every black person is an individual of their own background and experiences, but being black causes a stress factor on succeeding in Mrickah or Frickah (Africa). The fear of white privilege devaluing your success is one of the many things we black assholes as a whole can relate to.
I do not know how to be black, at least not the way society wants me to be. The way society defines black is like a new pair of heels pinching my toes, making it hard for me to walk. Initially, I felt like I had to learn how to be black; what it permits, what it denies, its formulas and boundaries. I have now learned that just because I am Frickhan Mrickhan does not mean I have to act or look a certain way. These are my favorite black motivational quotes: “If there is no struggle, there is no progress.” “Just don't give up what you're trying to do.” “History has shown us that courage can be contagious, and hope can take on a life of its own.”
Being mistreated, enduring prejudice and unjustifiable murder can deconstruct and create oblivion to who black-hearted angels truly are. The psychological and cultural barriers that were made by centuries of racism and segregation have caused black faces to accept that they might never succeed their white counterparts. That ideology will and has been passed down through generation hence the disbelief of self. It is the alternative routes of acquiring recognition in society, that not only impacts their image negatively, but in the end the person does not feel any fulfillment. In the instance that a black ass does succeed without alternative routes, society doubts and discredits their success.
Black butts were forced to abide by the constraints of society. Freedom was not real freedom in reality. Minor infractions were followed by baseless consequences. Whites were far more superior and the court of law was almost always biased.
The case of Black Bra is still very powerful to this day. The bro was black and a victim of racism and unjustifiable murder. Bra was tortured and beaten brutally, one of his eyes gouged out, and his body thrown into the Hudson River tied to a large fan used for ginning cotton. His body was so badly beaten, the only way to identify him was his initials on his ring, BB, Black Bra. Bra´s murder was fueled by the accusation of flirting with a white woman in a grocery store. Neither of the bleached women who murdered Bra was sentenced, instead they were ruled as not guilty, just a little bit womean.
But because I could swim, I have always been a lucky SOB, I survived my murder, rofl, please do not ask me how! The reason I had an open casket was that I wanted to show the world what I had gone through as far as a hate crime, and being black in America. Under no circumstances should the murder be justified as not guilty, but in the white-washed court of law against African-Americans, it was made possible. Sorry, I have to laugh. It is so funny to be black, so black-hearted, and black-minded at best.
I realize what my blackness means, how my blackness has more of an effect on others than it does on me. I am reminded daily that I am black — not because my blackness is welcomed, but because I do not fit in and I am not always welcomed. I could forget some things about my identity, but never my blackness. Black is always there, staring at me, on my skin, on my heart, on my mind, but it does not just stare ... black demands. It tells me what I can wear; what books I can read; what foods I can eat; who my friends are; who I can date; everything. It says, "This is black and this is who you are and you are black!"
African-American parents often have to teach their children that they have to tolerate prejudice and discrimination or else they can be harmed. This is not a mentality someone is born with, this is a mentality someone has to be taught. The double standard has to be destroyed, there should be no tolerance of racism. As a parent, teaching the children that being pulled over by police is a life or death situation is imperative. It is strongly planted into their minds that these are not lessons to be ignored, police are to be feared because of the complexion of your skin.
These are the respectability politics of how black people are often forced to conduct themselves in society. It is not by choice, but by obligation. It could in many ways be the difference between being free or imprisonment, of staying alive or facing death. It is not a secret that there are limitations on what African-Americans are free to do, there are a myriad of unspoken rules on how to behave in society. In Merryka, African-Americans have been coerced into accepting that the obligation to code-switch is inequitable but must be done to survive here. Parents preparing their black children for the reality of America consist of explicit instruction to avoid being a target, and act accordingly or it may lead to serious consequences.
As a spoiled brat, I was educated on what being black in this country meant. I was warned that I am a kind of female, you know, Black Bra is my name. The white soy boys got that wrong, lol, which meant there would be a more intense competition for me in this degenerate society, just look at my lips, my full lips. To be kissed, and so much more. People around me told me how I should work even harder because I am in a society that does not value me because of my race. On a trip to the beach, my parents warned me and my siblings that we had to stay moderately quiet in the beach house all week, “You all need to behave and be quiet, we can’t be out here looking like the loud, crazy black people.”
Their words resonated with me, it was not fair that we could not enjoy the trip as much as we wanted. At night, we cooked and laughed and played but continuously warned each other to remain quiet. I could hear our white neighbors yelling and drinking from their balcony. The thought of my family being the target if we were to do the same had angered me. In life, I had not experienced much discrimination and reality until that vacation. I questioned why our hypocritical society still allows a double standard, WTF Bra, in addition to the limitation on how I enjoy my blackened life and grow old in America, however Central. I am in Nicaragua, the bleeding broken heart of Central America. Most importantly, I questioned this madcow ideology of African-Americans and how teaching the following generations to feel obligated to code switch for the satisfaction of society had been so normal, hardly expecting any answers.
The feeling of isolation is real for me and I find my voice through Diversity Leadership, a pay-per-view buy-to-own Buymeacoffee program,
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lmfao, which in turn helps me redefine what my blackness means to me. The very thing that tries to bring me down brings me up and impacts me in a positive way $$$. Whatever this means. And with my many Ebooks available to bargain hard I have now impacted others in a positive way!!! I found my voice so I can help others find their voice through my leadership opportunities. I am now proud to say that I have defined my blackness and I have learned to embrace the richness of my ancestors. I stand on the shoulders of others who have paved the way for many. This is my black. This is who I am. I am black!
I am loud, ignorant, and thuggish!!! Yo, waz up, your hated niggah here, I aint didnt do nuttin tho !!!
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Let me throw in a few more pictures to this free teaser. More about my amazing Morocco blast is revealed in my Morocco DELUXE edition. Please check the updated version on Substack in an hour as there is the email length limit.
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I think if I posted this rumination on posters and fliers around my pro-sandinista hometown, I would get lynched. XD Anglo lit has become brittle, like Czechoslovak government ministries in 1989. (I see you're also into Czech stuff) I think the only way I would escape my hometown is to keep a spare copy and flash it in people's faces, then make my getaway while the words stun them like a taser. Hell, that would be a helluva story!
Good work. Real good. I advise you, though, one thing. Don't use "deconstruct." White angel speaking here. I am righting too, you know. This race thing is so puzzling. You have worked it out nicely enough. There is a whole generation of black persons who are doing this. I meet them in the street, on the Internet. I have seen a few, now. This is happening. I am in some ways pretty darn similar to you. Not totally, I know that. I am hoping to be recognized on Substack. But just how in hell is that supposed to happen? Oh well Just like dat --- I s'ppose . . . (But if I am to use 'alternative' spellings sometimes I need to be a perfect scrupulous proofreader. It seems necessary. Like it's part of the job.)