Tag Archives: Black Girl Magic

Black Girl Magic and Misery!

“Black Girl Magic is a rallying call of recognition. Embedded in the everyday is a magnificence that is so easy to miss because we’re so mired in the struggle and what society says we are.” – Ava Duvernay

I guess my permanent “resting bitch face” was on hiatus today. This morning as I was leaving the gym (leg day is a bitch, ain’t it?), this handsome black guy held the door for me and told me that I smelled like Black Girl Magic and Misery. He instantly chuckled as I whipped around to call him and his greasy greasy grandmammy (because in my head she instantly became that) some 4-letter words. I’m sure my face was that of a lioness on the prowl because he took a step back and asked if he could explain.

This man proceeded to tell me that black women are the only race of women that will “take a black man to task and call him on his bullshit.” I told him that I know women who are not black who will do that. By then, I’m getting offended because this fine specimen already told me my cocoa butter smells like Black Girl Magic and Misery but now he was feeding into the black women are bitter bitches ideology. He responded by saying that other women may do it but a black woman will break a man down and continue to love and support their men while she prays for God to build him back up.

This man went on to tell me how he admires the strength of black women. He remembers the cocoa butter scent on his mother when she was whopping him which brought him plenty of misery, but how the scent of his wife’s natural hair products (juices and berries is what he called them) reminds him of the magic born into black women. He said that my scent was a perfect mixture of both.

Now at this point, the brother got me cheesing, blushing and sniffing like a cokehead to see what I smelled like but then he walked off on me like he had just dropped the mic!

I’ve been thinking about that 3 minute interaction all day and I must admit that it motivates me to want to be a better woman to our men. It reaffirmed to me that, as a black woman, I should not feel guilty about expecting greatness from our boys and men. Sometimes I wonder if we set unrealistic expectations for black men because they have SOOOOO much to deal with in the world on a daily basis. However, I feel like there is no other race of men that can survive the things black men face and make it look as effortless.

So tomorrow when I put on my cocoa butter (even though I loathe the smell) and spray my juices and berries in my hair I will be reminded that to whom much is given, much is required. I will use my Black Girl Magic and Misery to cultivate some Black Boy Joy and Strength!


…the hereafter is a hustle. We want it NOW!

Yesterday I was in a fog. I heard his name and did not pay attention to it. Alton Sterling… Alton Sterling… Alton Sterling. I was doing a million things trying to earn my paycheck and didn’t even have time to check FB, much less watch the news. By the time I made it home last night I heard a bit of buzz about a black man killed in Louisiana by the police and the body camera fell… or something. I didn’t think much of it and it’s a shame that a black man being killed by a white cop doesn’t even surprise me anymore.

I woke up rested and ready to take on the world. Much like every American with a social media addiction, the very first thing I do when I wake up is check my Facebook. This morning the first thing I read was someone saying that they could not bring themselves to watch another video of a black man being killed on the internet. The very second thing I saw was the video of this man being killed, of which I scrolled right past. I refuse to watch because I feel that videos like that are disrespectful to the family members of this man. I don’t believe in making a video go viral of a King being shot to death by the very same people who took an oath to serve and protect. Well, where is the protection? When are all people going to be protected and treated
with respect?

Let me tell you what I did watch…

I watched this man’s 15 year old child grieve for his father in a voice that was full of pain, sorrow, hurt and love. I can still hear that child’s cries in the back of my head and unlike a lot of my friend’s and followers, I am not in tears. I am not crying. I am not sad. I am not melancholy. I AM PISSED OFF. I AM ENRAGED. I AM DOWN RIGHT BIG MAD!

It is a sad sad day when Jesse Williams’ speech gets more attention from racist whites than the black men and women who are losing their lives. Driving to work, my blood was boiling because I cannot understand how people expect us to believe that skittles, loose squares, loud music, failing to use a FUCKING turn signal, a wallet and CD’s are justifiable reasons to take our lives? Carrying a gun in an open carry state is NOT a reason to kill a black man but can shoot a white man poppin rounds at cops in the leg. I can’t even get my words to make sense right now because I am so angry.

I am angry at white people who don’t see us as people but as black people. I am angry at our justice system for validating this weak ass belief that black lives don’t matter. I am angry at the social media activist arguing with the social media racists and thinking something will change. We can make a million memes that urge people to STAY WOKE and PRAY for (insert name of whichever black life lost you choose), but a meme and a prayer won’t solve anything. At the end of the day, staying woke is pointless if you’re not getting up and putting some action to it. It’s time to wake up, rise up and change up our mentality. As a people, we can come together and accomplish so much but with the crabs in a barrel mentality we will remain disposable, expendable and invisible. I will just drop this right here for y’all… 

We’ve been floating this country on credit for centuries, yo, and we’re done watching and waiting while this invention called whiteness uses and abuses us, burying black people out of sight and out of mind while extracting our culture, our dollars, our entertainment like oil – black gold, ghettoizing and demeaning our creations then stealing them, gentrifying our genius and then trying us on like costumes before discarding our bodies like rinds of strange fruit. The thing is though… the thing is that just because we’re magic doesn’t mean we’re not real.”

—Jesse Williams