Some Thoughts on Transgender Day of Visibility

Today is Trans Day of Visibility, and I want to be very clear where I stand on support for trans communities. To my trans friends and colleagues, I see you. You matter. Your lives matter. Your bravery in being openly who you are in a world that poses so many dangers to you is resonant. I wish y’all didn’t have to fight so hard to live and love and be seen as human beings who shouldn’t have to constantly prove they deserve rights and safety but I will never stop standing with y’all and fighting for you.

I stand with trans folx not just on Trans Day of Visibility but the other 364 days of the year. And I stand on business, because I know how integral trans folx, and how important Black and Brown trans folx, are and have been to civil and human rights progress for countless decades. No one has rights if any community has to constantly fight for them, and I know y’all have firsthand knowledge of this struggle. Y’all didn’t abandon me and mine, even as some of my kinfolk are the arbiters of your trauma. I’ll never abandon you and your causes because your needs are valid and real.

To my trans friends and colleagues, I hope today is a day of being seen and cherished. I hope it’s a day of healing and love. And I hope this all spreads through every day of the rest of your year and lifetime.

On Affirmative Action and the Designing of Systems

Affirmative action.

It's wild to me that the United States always finds a way to ensure the melanated, especially Black, Brown, and Indigenous folx, know that they don't deserve anything. No options. No opportunities. No possibilities for advancement or breaking the generational shackles of white supremacy.

It's wild to me that those who have power and positionality provided by their proximity to white supremacy (or, in some cases, those who sell their souls to garner favor from white supremacy) get to make decisions that impact those whom laws were supposed to support and amplify.

It's also wild to me that white supremacy continues to try and wield Global Majority folx as weapons against one another, in this case, trying to place the onus for their decision to dismantle affirmative action on the heads of AAPI communities so they don't have to take ownership of the fact that white supremacy's goal is to own nothing that it inflicts upon those it views as less than.

It's wild but not surprising.

It's all working by design.

Let's be honest with ourselves. Affirmative action was appeasement. Affirmative action had become a tool almost exclusively structured for white women to achieve academic access. The data shows this. Hell, white women were suing colleges and universities a few years ago because they felt they didn't get the college placements they "deserved." However, it was one of the only things still in place in this country that remotely offered educational access and socioeconomic progress to communities that were never meant to move beyond poverty, hate, and enslavement. And when you live in a country that likes to parade around how good it believes it is to its citizenry for the world to see, you find yourself clinging to the ledge where the little things you fought for by the tips of your fingers while hoping something better will come.

But we're not getting something better this time, are we?

Instead, we're getting an oily ledge that will impact the grips of melanated folx for generations.

All by design.

The beat goes on. The generational chains of poverty will continue to chafe the wrists and ankles of Black bodies. The progeny of the Black bodies that endured being considered subhuman slaves for hundreds of years will still be regarded as such. AAPI communities will continue to be weaponized to harm others in the name of whiteness, preserving the perceived right to power and comfort of whiteness while doing generational harm to AAPI folx. White women will continue to have the ability to harm melanated folx and take opportunities from their communities because of their proximity to white masculine cisgender societal norms, losing a system of advancement that catered to them exclusively for decades but believing that this decision is not aimed at them. Hence, their place in the pecking order is "safe."

The design is working.

It just isn't working for those who aren't white.

By design.

On Juneteenth and Bank Holidays

TW: mentions sexual assault, rape, white supremacy, and chattel slavery.

I do not like that Juneteenth is a federal holiday. I have always wanted the unmelanted masses to be educated on the history and significance of Juneteenth, but I never wanted it to be recognized as a damn bank holiday. Why?

Because I will never be OK with people of pallor having Juneteenth off work like it’s just another three-day weekend.

Like, what are you off of work for, white people? Are you comfortable chillin’ out on what should be a day of service and reflection for your people? Do y'all think you somehow deserve a day off that directly results from the generational trauma your ancestors created that we're all still impacted by?

Do you look at Juneteenth as a celebration that you get to participate in? If so, what are you celebrating? Are you celebrating the fact that your ancestors enslaved, murdered, and raped my ancestors and then willingly neglected to inform my ancestors that they were technically free and no longer their hateful owners? Are you celebrating the ongoing appropriation, subjugation, and murder that your ancestors popularized as suitable actions toward my ancestors that you and yours still perpetuate?

I will say this every year until the day I die: Juneteenth is not for you, white people.

White people: Until y'all do right by me and mine, may your Juneteenth barbecues lack seasoning, your “red velvet” cupcakes lack moisture, and your red punch taste like bog water.

And you can read that last part in your head in the voice of Celie from The Color Purple.

And note that I said “in your head” because you better not do a Celie impression out loud!

On Fresh Baked Bread and Finding The Medium of Identity and Career Aspirations

Image description: A picture of fresh-baked herb focaccia bread. The bread has been sliced into squares.

As a melanated person, a Black person, in white-centered workplaces, I speak from experience when I say a great deal of energy and a sense of grounding and peace comes from not caving into the "norms" and demands of white supremacist workplace culture ideology as a means of survival. It is liberating to work toward finding the medium in your career that allows you to maintain your identity while thriving personally and financially. With that said, I can also say that by doing so, you open yourself up to a great deal of uncertainty in your future employment opportunities.

Everybody isn't going to be too keen on you maintaining who you are, even those who claim that's why they hired you. They'll expect you to be someone different, to change yourself, and make yourself "acceptable." They will verbalize these expectations, putting your job on the line and leaving you feeling like you're inadequate or a "bad" employee. There will be times when you decide to change yourself to protect yourself. Those moments will hurt, and you might find yourself harboring some resentment, anger, or disappointment toward yourself because you won't feel as protected as you thought. You might not feel protected at all. You may feel more unsafe than ever in your workplace. You'll feel alone.

But you're not alone, far from it.

So many people are flipping that same coin every day because of the world we live in and the workplaces our society has cultivated.

Please know that you are not alone. Please know that I do not judge you because I've been in your shoes and see the weight you carry with your decisions. If anything, I wish you the space and energy to find ways not to shrink who you are and what you bring to the workplace into a trail of crumbs instead of the fresh, robust focaccia you genuinely are. It's not easy, but I promise it is worth it.

Sending you energy and love as you navigate the quagmire of career employment.

P.S.: Yeah, I just compared you to bread. Focaccia, to be exact. Your future and needs are decadent fuel for your soul, like focaccia. You know what? Maybe you should have some focaccia and dipping oil and call it a day. You deserve it.

On Frappucinos and Letting My People Go While People Can't (Won't) Pronounce My Name

Image description: a picture of me holding a frappuccino. The drink label attempted to spell my name so the barista could call me to pick up my order. Instead of Pharoah, the label reads Faro.

Faro.

This is the closest a Starbucks barista has ever gotten to a phonetic spelling of my name during a recent visit to Starbucks. I can't even be mad because at least they tried. Usually, when I order food or a beverage with my name and not a pseudonym, the name on the cup looks like someone shook up a bag of Scrabble tiles, poured seven tiles onto a table, and said close enough.

I could be 100 years old, and I will still not understand how people butcher my name, especially the "Christians." Yeah, there aren't 800 dudes named Pharoah walking around every town and city, but who doesn't know of the Pharaohs in some ways, shape, or form?

These microaggressions pile up, wear you down, and make you feel like you need to assimilate or whitewash yourself to survive. Everyone should be able to order a beverage at a coffee shop and not need to use an alias because you're exhausted by the lack of effort to pronounce your name. Everyone should be able to go to work, go to an event, and traverse the world they live in without needing a "white" identity and name that white people and institutions feel "comfortable" with pronouncing. Many people think that little things like this don't matter or don't hurt, but they do. They have a resonant long-term impact on Global Majority folx that many carries with us for our entire lives.

I've been dealing with my name being mangled in every setting you can think of my entire life.

All a brother wants is an occasional cold beverage with my name spelled correctly.

I know I'm not the only one.

[Image description: a picture of me holding a frappuccino. The drink label attempted to spell my name so the barista could call me to pick up my order. Instead of Pharoah, the label reads Faro.]