Malcolm X once said: “The most disrespected person in America is the Black woman, the most unprotected person in America is the Black woman, the most neglected person in America is the Black woman.”
As a Black girl, I’m only 20 years old and have learned so many rules and regulations regarding being a Black girl, not only from my experiences but from Black girls, before me, after me, and the same age as me.
As a Black girl, from an early age you learn that your Black is only beautiful if it’s extremely light; you know, like the color that white women and Black men make.
As a Black girl, you already know the meaning of being “fast” because you had on a jean romper, wore weave ponytails, and sang the lyrics to a grown-up song. Those of you who don’t understand, well I’m not talking about speed.
As a Black girl, we were taught to put chemicals in our hair to straighten it or apply heavy heat because kinky curls are not the wave.
As a Black girl, our culture, style, and even body types are taken and used by other ethnicities, but when we use them they are considered “ghetto.”
As a Black girl, my expressions through my hair are limited because having dread-locks, colored hair and natural afros are considered unprofessional in the work field. But when women from other races do it, that’s when it becomes a trend.
As a Black girl, I am one of the most hardworking, creative beings on the planet but because I am a Black girl I don’t receive half the credit or recognition that I deserve. I’m not even taken seriously.
As a Black girl I am taught in a room full of people I have to work twice as hard, to get half as far, because this is a white man’s world.
As a Black girl, I have to be strong and never let them see me cry because that’s how they win. God wouldn’t give me anything I couldn’t handle, right?
As a Black girl, I am not allowed to get upset or raise my voice without you people thinking I will get violent or how they like to say it, “Get ghetto.”
As a Black girl, if I don’t tolerate BS from a man, I always have an attitude or I’m bitter. Let me aspire to have a man with money, and then I’m a gold digger or how my generation puts it, “a city girl.”
As a Black girl, I watch Black men drag us through the mud, marry a woman not of color but who paid to make her lips, butt, and breasts to be just like mine. Yet their mothers, sisters and grandmothers are Black girls, and these are the men I’m supposed to uplift?
As a Black girl, It scares me that about 64,000 of us are missing in America and it seems that the most the world can do for us is post us 0on social media.
As Black girls, let’s continue to support and uplift each other because sometimes we are all we have.