Black Men Magazine Covers Don’t Cover Contempt for Black Women

I’m supposed to criticize black women for crossing over? I cannot.

Let me first state that we are dealing with numbers here. It has gotten to be annoying but necessary to preface all comments that deal with social phenomena with an acknowledgement that what is discussed is of a general nature based upon statistical odds. Please do not reply with singular examples or point out that this does not apply to all black men or all black women. Obviously, it does not. Not all people fall ill to anything. An epidemic does not have to affect everyone for it to be an emergency.
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The evidence is that the vast majority of black men prefer women who look more like the non-black man’s mother when he was conceived than his own. That evidence is blaring in the dating site statistics; studies done by black people in social psychology journals; marriage and cohabitation studies done by black and white scientists and economists; the casting calls for rap videos, and, most importantly; the everyday experience of black girls and women. This last proof is what young women see when they walk into their brothers’, cousins’, and male friends’rooms or into convenience stores where black men are browsing these magazines. Friday night at the club shows more of the same. Black men carrying toddler seats to the restaurant table shows more of the same.

Statistics showing that currently married black men are mostly married to black women do not contradict this evidence. A large percentage of black men do not marry at all. And, when they do, they overwhelmingly strive to do so with women who have traits atypical of black women in any significant part of Africa that has not been exposed to admixture with non-black genetics. Again, this a matter of plain fact that is demonstrated by solid scientific data. Men all over the world have always availed themselves of the opportunity to put their penises in the available vaginas when the vaginas of the women they most desired—- beyond their genital’s ability to produce brief physical pleasure with eyes closed, if necessary— were not available. And, when there are no vaginas, the evidence is that many men will use another man’s rectum. So, the mere result of a nappy-headed baby being born of such sexual contact is not any evidence of preference for their nappy-headed mothers.

The evidence is also that the overwhelming majority of black women, however, prefer black men over every other type of men. Said evidence can be found in all of the sources referenced in the paragraph above this one.

These are the facts. This is not a matter of “debating over who’s been oppressed the worst, who isn’t valued the most, who’s been hurt the most etc.” It is, to me, disingenuous to attempt to put this matter of preference in a hat with all of the issues termed “gender wars” between black men and black women. All other matters of behavior are moot between a man and a woman when the man really does not want her because of how she looks. This is similar to tabling all communication and other issues when one spouse learns that the other is homosexual.

So, what are the millions of black women to do with no prospects of marrying a black man who truly wants and desires her? She has four options:
1) Be back-up pu$$y whether dating or married;
2) Be in a polygynous relationship with one of the few black men who do genuinely prefer black women;
3) Be celibate; * In my view, this includes changing one’s intimacy orientation to lesbianism and seeking to only have one’s eggs fertilized by some means unrelated to heterosexual pair-bonding.
4) Accept an offer of marriage or a date she believes could lead to marriage with a non-black man

These are all bad options compared to being with a black man who truly desires her. Option 1 encourages this trend among black men to continue or accelerate and is the option most black women are taking. But, for most black women, each of these four options compromise both her physical and emotional health. Far be it from me to criticize any black woman for reaching for the poisoned food from which she is left to choose. It is up to black men to work among themselves to get the poison out of the soil.

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If you have food to offer me in a prison when I have none, how do you with any sanity and honor criticize me for taking food from a guard? That is what black men do who criticize black women for accepting offers from white men.

* “Option 3” was amended to correct an oversight that originalwoman13 pointed out in the comments to this piece.

Just Say No to Combs

It’s just plain math, i.e., logic. No one likes pain. IF combing hair causes pain and hair must/should be combed, THEN, hair that can be combed with no/less pain IS “good hair.”

Time is precious. IF combing hair rakes a lot of time and hair must/should be combed, THEN, hair that can be combed with no/less time IS “good hair.”

If you have very tightly coiled-hair that you don’t regularly change into not-so-bad hair with chemical or mechanical heat, your hair could logically be reasoned to be bad unless you style your hair WITHOUT COMBING in a manner that does not require pain or undue time (more than about 90 minutes per week). Or, unless you shave it all off.

I do not have “bad hair” and I am not bald. My hair is a mix of curls of various diameters (some natural and some fashioned with conditioner and my fingers) and naps and locs. I REASONABLY de-tangle my hair with my fingers before and after washing. I do use scissors to clean the lines here and there as I got myself emotionally unattached to length except enough to see the luxurious, has-its-own-mind textures. But, I’ve no need to rid my head of every single tangle anymore than I’ve a need for the shrubbery in my yard to look just like the grass. And, I get compliments all the time on both my hair and my yard.

I had a math problem to solve and I solved it.

In South Africa, during “apartheid,” white folks would administer the “comb test” to determine whether to classify some children as “coloured” (mixed race) and, therefore qualified to be spared of some mistreatment coming to those classified as black. THAT is a “racially biased” test if ever I heard of one. I refuse to administer it to myself.

I must, according to my counter-racist code, tell the truth about my weaknesses and faults in any matter that I solicit the same of others. And, that truth is that I did not correctly solve this problem at the time that I chose to have offspring. I solved the “bad hair” problem of my offspring by selecting a father with straight hair. He also has pink skin.

Once Upon A Time….One Young Woman’s Journey Back to Her Roots

This is a reprint of an entry into a brand new blog about a subject that is as important as any that I can think of. In this issue of hair is wrapped every other issue of white domination. It is, I think, like pulse or blood pressure, a measure of ease with ourselves as we contend with all at odds with it. My personal observation: In the photos of JJ, her beauty increases with each step closer to her naturally luxurious crown (excessive coil-busting “fros” being better than hair that’s been laid to rest but a step away from the luxurious, vibrant texture in the last pic) . While some counter-examples may exist in which attractive presentation decreases with a more natural coiffure, I’ve never seen one. And, this, for me, is a purely aesthetic opinion, not a political one.

You can keep up with this young lady’s work in this area at her blog here on wordpress: JJ Goes Natural
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Once Upon A Time….
Sep24

My History, or Rather, Hairstory

If you would have told me years ago that I would eventually muster the courage to wear my hair in its natural state, I would have laughed in your face! I have to admit that I’ve been through it all with this hair of mine over the years.

I was born into the world with hair that would evolve from being baby soft to REALLY thick like millions of other Black women and men worldwide. My mother did not have too much difficultly maintaining my hair as a toddler, but my hair was seen as an insurmountable challenge for her as I got older. Washing it was easy, but combing and styling it was a whole ‘notha matter! It was very difficult for her to use straight-tooth combs in my hair since it was thick and tightly coiled. I would either flinch or cry while it took her HOURS to finish. I thought, “God, what could be worse than THIS?!” She couldn’t even do cornrows for the most part, so I usually had my hair put in bubbles and barrettes.

She could stand no more of this by the time I turned 8, so I started to get my hair permed.

I can remember her coming home with the “Just For Me!” No Lye Relaxer (or Chemical Mutilator) for the first time. It was this white box with the faces of other young black girls on the cover with curly and straight hair. I wasn’t necessarily excited about her getting the perm kit because I didn’t fully grasp what it would do to my hair. But when I got my hair permed for the first time, I absolutely LOVED how straight it was. I didn’t cry when she combed it, it felt sleek and I could shake it, and I had hair similar to my friends at Catholic school. I was the only black girl in my class for many years, so it felt great being able to fit in with my friends with long and straight hair. Little did mom – let alone me – realize the damage perming would cause to my hair.

Perming my hair was not too bad at first, but the overall condition of my hair started declining over time. ”Just Like Me!” simply didn’t work as it used to. I would get my hair permed on a Saturday, and it would get frizzy by mid-week. I went through two other perming products by the time I was 12 and dealt with the same problem. Even the perming process itself became more painful. When mom rubbed that white cream on my scalp, I felt like my head was literally going to catch on fire! I would get bumps, scabs, and burns all over my scalp as a result, and even developed a terrible case of dandruff that lingered for years.

Me in high school with short permed hair.

I eventually started going to mom’s hair stylist at 13. I noticed that my hair grew longer than ever before it became extremely short. Little by little, I just became sick and tired of my hair, was tired of dealing with the perm, and wanted a change despite not knowing what to do next.

My mother’s hair stylist suggested that I consider wearing my hair braided. She herself was transitioning to natural hair and thought it was probably time for me to give up the perm and start keeping my hair in its natural state. She said, “The braids will allow you to keep your hair and is easy to manage since you won’t have to maintain it each and every day.” This was great news for a borderline LAZY person like me since I did not want to do my hair everyday, let alone wear it natural. A family friend did my hair in braids for the next six years, and they were easy to manage like my hair stylist said they’d be.
Me as a college freshman with BRAIDS 🙂

The braids were long and looked like dread locs to many people, so I liked wearing them and getting them done every 2 months. They were also easy to wash each week and my natural hair kept growing until all my permed hair was GONE. However, I still had a terrible dandruff problem and noticed my hair was dry and full of dandruff between appointments. When I took out my braids in-between appointments, I would just marvel at my natural hair! I’d think, “Wow, my real hair is so interesting!” I had a big afro that extended from the sides from my head and upwards (to the sky, it seemed).

My desire for natural hair became too large to simply ignore, so I started wearing my hair braid-free this July. I have to say that it was one of the best decisions of my life. I loved those braids a lot, and definitely much more than my old-time perm, but wearing my own hair feels so much better and seems right for me. I do more with my hair than I have EVER done before. It’s healthy and stays dandruff-free throughout the week. More importantly, I’ve developed this level of confidence I never thought I would have as a natural. I also don’t associate my hair with being “thick”, “nappy”, or all these other negative words that are only tied to Black people’s hair. My hair is “unique”, “a divine creation” like all other hair forms, and is my “curly, protective shield”. I look forward to nurturing it the way it was MEANT to be nurtured and cared for both now and in the future.

That is my hairstory! Feel free to share yours 🙂