The United States will never pay reparations to Black Americans, and I don’t care!
I don’t want 40-acres of stolen Native American land, and what the hell do I do with a mule?
What I need is a Permanent Restraining Order against Racism.
- I don’t want to participate in any more discussions about it.
- I’m not interested in hearing apologies that can’t undo racism from the past.
- Miss me on prefacing conversations with, “I know you aren’t a “Racist, but…”
- Racism, in any shape, color, or form, needs to stay out of my way.
- And, most definitely, I don’t intend to teach any more White people about “Racism.” Like my Mother used to tell us when we couldn’t spell a word, “Look it up.” “But, Ma, how do we look it up, we’d lament when we can’t spell it?.” She’d retort, “Sound it out!”.
- I say stop expecting victims of racism to explain it to you. “Look it up!”
What do I want?
A Restraining Order is an official command issued by a court to force an accused party to refrain from a specific activity in a variety of contexts, including employment disputes, copyright infringement, harassment, domestic abuse, and stalking. In my opinion, Racism is guilty on all counts.
How do I get one?
First, turn in your application to the court, which will decide on the merits of your request. And, then the court determines if your request meets the criteria such as;
(1) Whether the Party (Me) will suffer irreparable injury if they don’t get the Restraining Order. Yep!
(2) If the Party is likely to succeed on the merits of the case. Yepper!
(3) In the off-chance that the Retraining Order will cause more harm than help. No way!
(4) And, if granting the relief is in the public interest. Absolutely!
The Command from the Court is called a “Protective Order.”
My “Argument” is sound.
Before I can file criminal charges, I’ll have to prove that Racism is guilty of the following.
1. Assault: Mine has mostly been insidiously verbal. But, vicious, painful, and dehumanizing nonetheless.
2. Burglary: Black children’s innocence stolen from conception, and they are pronounced guilty at birth. Meanwhile, White children are presumed innocent for life. Ain’t that a bitch.
3. Criminal mischief: Schemes to snatch away Black people’s rights. Preditors follow me everywhere I go in the name of Racism, which fans the fires of hate against me.
4. Criminal restraint: In the US, “Racism” stalks every Black people every minute of every day. It doesn’t matter if they’re American born, a naturalized citizen, a migrant granted asylum or a legal immigrant.
Racism believes all Black people are criminals, and at some point, they must be stopped and questioned, and prove their innocence. Death by chokehold recorded on a Police Cam is allowed.
5. Terrorist threats: White Supremacists, the Religious Right Wing, Nazis, KKK, Republicans, and Ultra-conservatives see Black people as a threat. And, now, with the backing of the current President, there’s a mandate to exterminate all Black people because they are considered to be sub-human and “live in rat-infested cities.”
6. Criminal trespass: Above all, ‘Racism “is a ruthless hunter and believes the Second Amendment gives it the right to shoot us in the back in broad daylight.
LOCK “RACISM” UP!
The NAACP reports that;
- America incarcerates African Americans at more than five times the rate of whites.
- The imprisonment rate for African American women is twice that of white women.
- Nationwide, of all the children arrested, the number of African American represent 32 %.
More importantly, “Racism” has worked my last damn nerve.
The 2018 “I’m a Racist and Don’t Care Award” goes to Racism’s Main Squeeze: White Women
Ring! Ring!
“911, what’s the address of your emergency?
“Yes, I live in America, and a Black Woman is walking down my street with a poodle. “
” I’m sorry, can you tell me what you’re reporting?”
” She’s Black! It’s a white poodle, and she probably stole it!”
Tell me I’m wrong. I dare you.
Back to my argument. Remember, I will have to prove Racism is guilty before I can file criminal charges.
7. HOMICIDES: I’ll have to prove Racism committed murder. That won’t be a problem.
8. KIDNAPPING: Well, that certainly goes without saying. I come from a long line of stolen ones.
9. LEWDNESS- LUST, LECHERY, LASCIVIOUS, OBSCENE, AND INDECENT LANGUAGE, OR COMMENTS: Racism calls me “Sapphire,” “Prostitute,” and whore. All women get to be Bitches, but I’m a Black Bitch. Black women are often portrayed as over-sexed Angry Black Man emasculators unworthy of love and respect no matter what we do or who we love without exception.
10. I’ll have to prove SEXUAL ASSAULT/UNLAWFUL SEXUAL CONTACT.
Ahh hello? Next Question.
“So, Madam, again, why do you need a restraining order?”
Firstly, I know “Racism.” It will strike at any moment. For example, I live in Arizona. I purposely keep my hair grey and nappy so I can stay off Racism’s radar. “Ahh… She’s just an old lady, don’t bother with her. She can’t contribute to another pool of Black kids for me to feed it growls. (Audience noise ensues.) “Order! Order in the Court!
Secondly, I know Racism is always in the background planning its strategy for its next victim.
Thirdly, my Grandchildren are on the run from it. Black people have to teach their children about Racism in the same breath as lessons to look both ways before you cross the street.
Furthermore, I want “Racism” to be ordered not to have any contact with me, in person, by phone, at home, at work, and where I shop. I don’t want it to be anywhere I breathe.
And, finally, I need this Restraining Order because “Racism” will pursue me until this planet rolls off its axis and floats off into space or until I die whichever comes first.
Your Honor, I also want to file for an Injunction.
What’s That?
2. “When a court employs the extraordinary remedy of injunction, it directs the conduct of a party, and does so with the backing of its full coercive powers.”
3. A party that fails to comply with an injunction faces criminal or civil penalties, including possible monetary sanctions, and even imprisonment will be charged with contempt of court.
And, if Racism doesn’t obey the order, Your Honor?
The Judge: “Then call the Police. Record the encounter, and most of all, upload it to Social Media.”
Me: “Calling 911 isn’t always the best choice when you’re Black in America, Your Honor. Too often, the police are in cahoots.”
The Judge: “The police are bound by the law to arrest the perpetrator if it violates any part of this court’s order. Court adjourned! ALL RISE!
Black Does Crack.
They’ll be those numerous apologies, fights, and tears. But, as any battered woman knows, despite it all, the violence always returns. “BLAM!” There it is, and nothing the United States does will ever remedy the wrongs committed, and continue to happen in Racism’s name. Reparation? Spare me.
Racism is Smart & Sneaky.
First, I’ll ask the Judge to skip all preliminary steps past the Temporary Restraining Order (TRO) to an Injunction. Once granted, the court requires me to carry the documents on me at all times.
I’ll get a tattoo with the word “Injunction Against Racism” on my wrist. So, when “Racism” shows up, I can flash it. The stares alone will blur the ink, so I’ll need a touch-up from time to time.
Third, sometimes Racism, it’s subtle. No incidents for days, and then it catches me off guard. I’ve got the mental health bruises to prove it. Why do I have to be on full alert all the time? Black does certainly crack, and Gold Bond doesn’t help.
If I can’t run, perhaps, I can hide.
I don’t feel safe in America just as you can never forget being sexually abused, raped, or hit by someone you never forget when “Racism” shows up.
-
- Even after my Brain Surgery, where I’ve forgotten post events, I have never forgotten any of the times “Racism” attacked me.
- When “Racism” shows up, you can’t pretend it didn’t. You feel violated, hurt, exhausted, and angry. You wish you could forget, but you can’t. You move on and hope it will never cross your path again.
- It’s caught me by surprise so many times. I have to prepare for it before I leave my house. But, it always seems to find me when I least expect it. Wherever I go, it either comes along or beats me to my destination. Stalking is a violation of my Restraining Order, and I intend to enforce it.
Underground Racism
It’s Subtle.
I’ve belonged to lots of gyms with rows of shiny new equipment, and lots of sweaty white men. I could never remember which machines to use and in what order. It felt overwhelming, and I’d end up canceling the membership after running out of the gym, sometimes in tears of frustration. The culture doesn’t fit me.
I don’t wanna’ see Fox or CNN or the Sports Channel on every TV screen, including in the Women’s Locker Room! I don’t want to sit in the whirlpool with hairy White men hogging it up along with the steam rooms and saunas. Call me sexist and racist I don’t care. At my new gym, I feel at home.
I don’t have to deal with Men flirting and worrying me as they slam and drop weights down on the floor while huffin’ and puffin’ to prove their manhood. I’m not impressed. I don’t want to work-out in a funky room with dirty ropes hanging from cable machines. Yech!
Can I Please Work-Out in Peace?
1. It takes a half-hour to go through the exercise circuit, including a stretch machine to get those warm muscles long, lean, and relaxed. I’m sweaty when I leave. My progress is visible, and I feel strong.
2. From the moment I walk through the door until the warm good-byes from the Trainers when I finish my workout, I feel welcomed. “See you next time, Asata,” they say.
3. It’s the perfect place to get in shape and take off those extra pounds that had my knees, back, and right hip from too many years of repetitive Belly Dance hip-drops in horrid pain. The pain is gone now since I workout most days except Sunday when they’re closed.
4. I look forward to going to my gym. I love it. On the days when I feel stressed or depressed, I drag my ass there. And I always leave feeling renewed.
It’s No Big Deal but,
I’m only one of a very few Black Women in there. What else is new? I put on my game face, ignore the stares (my paranoia, perhaps), and jam to the beat. The women are friendly in a distant Arizona way. I have fun in my singular workout world. My coaches greet me when I come in, encourage me during my workout, and notice when I leave. “Bye, Asata. Great workout.”
But, then oops, there it is.
A conversation in the “stretching area” ensued about the noticeable changes in the desert plants this year. The palm trees were blooming, and spewing pollen everywhere — more than usual.
1. The Saguaro cactus blossomed three times instead of the usual one time a year. First with beautiful white ones, then little budlets of Fuchsia and after that back to white. That was new. The palm trees were overactive as well.
2. One lady mentioned that her palm tree’s pollen was landing in her pool, and creating a big mess. I agreed as we all continued to circle and move around the stretch machine. I had to scoop out pollen as well, I said.
3. “Oh, do you have a pool in your “complex?” she asked with that fake smile.
Nooooooo!!!!
It stopped me in mid-stretch.
- Why would this woman automatically assume I lived in an apartment complex? Did that mean that somehow, I couldn’t possibly understand her dilemma?
2. Who in their right mind would scoop palm tree droopings out of a communal pool?
As a result, I ignored her. I wasn’t in the mood to question her assumptions. I don’t want to educate dummies about subliminal racism. It would be useless anyway. She didn’t intend to insult me, and most likely, she wouldn’t understand why it did, so what was the point. It pissed me off, though.
There It Is Again!
My usual routine in the morning is to make coffee and watch the News. This particular morning I was out of sweetener and creamer. So, I dropped my husband off at work and zipped into Safeway to pick up coffee supplies.
On my way through the check-out line, I decided to stop and get a Starbucks coffee. I’m not particularly fond of Starbucks. For one thing, I’ve always hated their pretentious “tall” for a small-sized coffee-cup amount. I don’t think their coffee tastes that great, and finally, it’s too expensive. But, I didn’t want to take the time to brew some up at home.
A smiling young man took my order. He was in his 20’s polite. He asked if I wanted their “Pike Blend” or “Dark Roast.” Dark Roast, I answered. He smiled again.
Should I leave room for cream?” he asked, lowering his gaze. “Yes,” as I opened up one of my little creamers, I’d just bought it. I’ve taken to using them for portion control. I mean, who doesn’t love coffee with sweetener and creamer. That’s why we drink it.
He indicated that the creamer, sweeteners, and stirrers were around the corner. As I was stirring my hot coffee, he asks, “Are you going home to make some cornbread?”
I stopped in mid-stir.
“Excuse me?” and looked up. My first thought was why in God’s name, would this boy ask me if I was going home to bake some cornbread? Where did that come from? And, if I was into baking cornbread, why in God’s name would I stop for some stupid Starbuck coffee on my way out the door?
It’s Just “Cornbread” Girl.
Chill Out.
Here I was in baggy workout clothes holding a bag of groceries, and little White boy was pointing at my grocery bag. I was still confused. He repeated his question. “No, I’m not going home to make some cornbread,” I said. He continued that he just loved him some hot cornbread. I’m still not getting it.
Then it clicked.
Dammit! Did this boy see me as the exercise version of Aunt Jemima, like the new and citified version they rolled out a few years ago? What’s next? Be asked to fry up some chicken, serve a pot of greens with macaroni and cheese on the side?
Hmm Hmm, his eyes said, “I do love hot cornbread.” He pointed again at the bright yellow package. He must have thought that yellow bag meant cornbread.
“Got ya.”
Initially, I tried to laugh it off, “Yep, that’s why I don’t cook it. I love it too, but it has too many calories.” However, the more I thought about it, the more irritated I got. It makes my butt tired thinking about it. As usual, the young man was oblivious. He didn’t mean any harm. He was just friendly. I’m the one who reacts to “Racism” when it shows its ugly face.
Consequently, I told my Granddaughter about the incident when I got home. This 12-year-old remarked,” That’s like when people ask if you know how to make Gumbo.” Really? Damn it, I said. It’s just wrong for a little girl to be aware of subtle racist attacks and make the connection.
That’s why I need a fast-track “Restraining Order.” It’s more important to me than some shut-up reparations money. I need one my Granddaughter, and my Grandson needs one too for a myriad of reasons.
Because of that nonsense, I’ll need to print up some postcard to hand out to clueless folks who don’t understand why seemingly harmless remarks they throw at Black people, often in front of others, are insulting, belittling, and racist.
Racism isn’t limited to White people. I’ve experienced subtle racism from other “People of Color.” I can get some color-coded postcards for them.
On the front side, my Restraining Order. I’ll write-in the racist comment they just made on the back along with the statement, “Some of my best friends are White, so don’t take this the wrong way.” I’ll hand the card to them, smile, and say, “See you in court. You just violated my “Restraining Order.”
So, I repeat. I don’t want 40 acres of stolen land. I don’t need a mule.
What I demand is for “Racism” to stay the hell away from me and mine.
Therefore, if this country wants to pay reparations, along with giving me the Permanent Restraining Order, then ensure free healthcare, free college or training education, and interest-free loans, for Black folks. On top of that, I want all educational institutions to teach Racism 101. That’s a start.
What do you think? Will it be enough?
Should I continue my fight for an Injunction?
What about a Class Action Suit?
Some final notes.
Number One Warning. If you go for reparations, be sure to include a rider to the reparation agreement that all of your descendants get paid damages forever. They’ll be rich because even with the Injunction and the fines incurred, “Racism” will still keep coming back for more. Trust me.
Number Two Warning. I wish you the best of luck. If you win, go for the “Stipulation” option. You can keep the money flowing, and get regular checks until you die.
And finally, on second thought, I want Reparations for the descendants of slaves, and until my payment, we’ll need that injunction.