Dear…

This will probably be an ongoing little segment here on my blog because I find when people annoy me but I can’t say it out loud, I mentally write them little letters like these:

Dear Black Men,

I appreciate that you see me and recognize in me the traits of our “shared” ancestry. Bravo! You win a prize!

However, recognizing this does not in any way shape or form entitle you to accost me. You should not leer, whistle, hiss your teeth, suck your teeth or make any gesture in my direction. It’s rude and disrespectful. You should also not approach me. Call me a pretty girl or ask me about if I have a boyfriend or husband. I don’t know what turnip truck you think I just fell off of but that is not how you address me or any lady!

Sincerely,

A

*****

Dear Ignorant Person,

Please do not ask a question like, “Why do they say Obama is Black, he’s half white?”, in my presence. This causes my blood to boil and makes me want to give you an incredibly harsh history lesson about race.

It makes me want to explain to you that while I am probably paler than you, I consider myself Black.

This is not up for discussion, it’s how I choose to define myself in the face of ignorance and the constant question of, “where are you from?” because I don’t look like everyone else.

My family raised me to believe that no one will have a problem with me being half-white but they will have a problem with me being half-black.

Sincerely,

A

Advertisements

One thought on “Dear…

  1. Can you please add:
    Dear person riding behind me on the bus, have you no decency and common courtesy?

    Did you mother never teach you that there are some things that are best done in the privacy of your own home?

    Do you not think that everyone has noticed that you’re clipping your fingernails in public? Do you not think that everyone on the bus knows that distinctive sound? Do you really think that the maintenance people want to clean up after you?

    And when I quietly turned around to discreetly mention that “could you please not do that on the bus”, all you did was stop; the clipper remained in your hand.

    Ugh! You’ve ruined my morning and you’re making me sick. Have you no shame?

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s