On Tyre Nichols and Black Accountability Under the Spectre of Generational and Societal Trauma

Image Description: A picture of Tyre Nichols. He is smiling at the camera while wearing a lavender dress shirt, dark blue dress vest, lavender and dark blue tie, and dark blue pleated slacks. His hands are in his pockets.

T.W.: Murder, anti-Blackness, police brutality.

The murder of Tyre Nichols at the hands of five Black police officers in Memphis, Tennessee, is the intersection of white supremacy, policing, and Black self-hatred. The men that murdered Tyre were operating in a state of believing their police affiliation made them invulnerable to accountability, their Blackness be damned. They were feeding off the power they thought their positionality gave them and wielded that power to harm their own. And because they willingly disregarded the fact that badge or no badge, they're still Black men in the United States, this will likely be one of the rare times when police officers are held responsible for police brutality. And real talk?

They should be held responsible.

And Black communities should want them to be held accountable for murdering a Black man. Why?

Because accountability can't be a pick-and-choose situation.

Over the years, I've found that discussions of accountability for Black men who harm other Black people in Black communities often fall into the space of explanations pushing for why Black folx should forgive or disregard the harm they've caused. This is often frustrating for me to watch and engage with because too many Black people want to push forgiveness when Black people pose a danger to Black people or be outright quiet about it.

Regardless of the generational trauma we carry in our Black bodies, we cannot give a pass to Black people harming others while operating in spheres of white supremacist ideology. And we must stop providing Black men a pass when they harm other Black people. We've got to push through the discomfort and have hard conversations about accountability while respecting that trauma and self-hatred might be at play but not as excuses for murdering and harming others.

P.S., especially for Black folx: Please do not watch the videos of Tyre being harmed when they're shared with the public tomorrow. Don't do harm to yourself with this "Black trauma porn." You don't need to watch footage of a Black man being harmed in his final hours. No one does.

Why I Didn't Post Anything on MLK Day

A white "professional" who follows me on social media dropped me a line yesterday to tell me they were surprised I hadn't posted anything on Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Day. They're right: I didn't post anything on Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Day. Real talk?

I'm not obligated to post about Black sh—on a national holiday primarily created to appease Black communities by white politicians who wanted to feel like "good" white people.

I'm also not obligated to explain why I didn't post thoughts on Martin Luther King, Jr. Day, especially to white people. But you know what? I will explain why because I'm feeling generous enough to put the anxiety and weight that the white person who reached out to me tried to put on my shoulders right back on theirs and teach 'em something while doing it.

You’re welcome in advance.

So why didn't I post anything on MLK Day?

Why bother?

Look, white folx. We [Black folx] have the same discussion about how y'all misappropriate quotes and belittle the words and works of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. with y'all every year. We have similar conversations with y'all about Dr. King and other Black luminaries that your grandparents hated and that you've deified and misinterpreted the work of all year long. We have to check y'all all the time on treating Black people like your Great Value gurus and "your spirit animals" on the other 364 days of the year (someone's Lord, don't get me started on the spirit animal thing). To be honest?

I have nothing else to teach you about the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. that I didn't teach y'all last year, the year before, and every year for at least the last decade.

You've likely forgotten what I said about this day last year. I could post the same message on my social media channels on MLK Day every year, and most of y'all will respond to it like it's new to you. Every Black person in the United States could post the same post we wrote together in a Google Doc annually, and only a few of y'all would catch it. And that's the problem.

Most of y'all aren't paying attention, learning, and doin' the work until we stop doin' it for you.

Us telling you not to sully the name of Dr. King on MLK Day is your security blanket. Us telling you to do better, be better, and dismantle the sh—you created is like comfort food. And once we don't do it? Y'all be around here actin' cold and hungry when you've got on a winter coat and didn't finish the first plate you grabbed in the buffet line.

Maybe you should finish digesting what me and mine have been sharing with y'all for years before you expect us to give you more of ourselves.

Holla at me when you begin to remotely respect the legacy and work of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. and Black U.S. America in general without needing an annual prompt.

Drop me a line when you respect the Free99 labor and energy Black folx give y'all and start taking in and processing the hard truths we've been giving y'all for over a century.

And stop dropping me a line because I didn't post something Black on a Black holiday. I don't work for you.

Not a good look, white people. But y’all already knew that.

 

P.S.: I spent MLK Day resting my tired Black bones and avoiding white sh--. It was time well spent. If you're white and had MLK Day off, please understand that it's not a day of rest for you and yours; feel me?

On the Tibetan Sand Fox and Invitations to the Cookout

Image description: a gallery of four pictures of the Tibetan Sand Fox. The Sand Fox has a natural expression of judgment on its face, complete with a side-eye glance. Above the fox images is the caption, "Me when white "professionals" speak up about racism one time in 100+ workplace situations they've witnessed then look over at me with a smile on their face like they've proven they're a staunch ally in the "war on racism." "

Hey, white "professionals." It's me, Pharoah. I just wanted to take a moment before y'all dive headlong into 2023 and that stack of anti-racism books you've got on your bedside table (because one of your resolutions for this year is to really get going on being anti-racist) to remind y'all that speaking up one time out of 100 times you witness racism, and white supremacy, happening in real-time does not get you an invite to the cookout.

Hell, it doesn't even get you a Lunchable and a Capri Sun.

For the 1,000th time, speaking up and calling other white "professionals" in and out for their racist and white supremacist behavior is not a fair-weather practice. You either speak up and call in and out your white "colleagues" for their behavior and action every time you see it (while checking yourself and your privilege) or don't bother. Every once-in-a-while "allyship" is something you're doing for yourself, so you feel like a "good person"; it ain't doin' nothin' for me and mine. It doesn't even help us at the moment you're doing your one-off "activism" because we [the melanated masses] know you won't be following your actions up by checking Bob from Accounting the next time he flies his white supremacy flag when your privilege and positionality allows you to do so without the ever-present fear of losing your job.

Consistency is the word of the day. And we [the melanated masses] know when y'all aren't going to be consistent but still want to get invited to the cookout so you can seek additional praise for your potato salad recipe with the pepitas and raisins in it.

If you aren't willing to fight through the discomfort of being in opposition with other white people daily, then you shouldn't sign up for this work or dupe yourself into thinking that the three times a year you say something to another white person will move the needle.

To paraphrase Shania Twain, "Okay, so you said something today after I've watched you stay silent for years and endured your private apologies away from the other white people at work every time harm has occurred my entire time working here.”

That don't impress me much.

All that performative action will do is get you an eternal side-eye.

I'll let you get back to them books on your bedside table. It looks like you haven't even creased the cover on the first one yet.

What a shame.


P.S.: This applies to your personal life, too. Active and engaged anti-racism ain't just a "thing you do at work."

A Quick Open Letter to White People

White people,

There will be some Black people who will give you the side eye when you ask them if they’ve seen the latest Oscar bait chattel slavery movie, hit them with a “factoid” about being Black in the United States you just learned, or share your opinion on Black folx’s business (*cough* Brittney Griner *cough*) that ain’t got nothing to do with you. Some Black people will give you that side eye because they weighed out whether they should read you for filth or let you sit with discomfort as they look at you with supreme judgment, and the latter took less energy and time than the former. Some Black people will then not talk to you for a while so that they can make sure you have to sit with yourself and process your messiness sans Black people. Some Black people will hope you learn something from the experience but know deep down in their souls that you will not.

It’s me.

I’m some Black people.

[Image description: a picture of Black comedian Bernie Mac giving someone the side eye. His sunglasses are resting low on his nose as his side eye looks to the left.]

Image description: a picture of Black comedian Bernie Mac giving someone the side eye. His sunglasses are resting low on his nose as his side eye looks to the left.

On Anniversaries, Trauma, and Where We Are

TW: anti-Blackness, domestic terrorism, hate crime.

Today is the 59th anniversary of the anti-Black hate crime that was the bombing of the Sixteenth Street Baptist Church in Birmingham, Alabama. "Anniversary" is probably the wrong word, especially when your experience in the United States and western culture is perforated with monumental events of mourning and loss, but it is an anniversary nonetheless.

On the morning of September 15, 1963, four members of a local Ku Klux Klan chapter planted 19 sticks of dynamite attached to a timing device beneath the steps located on the east side of the Sixteenth Street Baptist Church. The dynamite-fueled explosion injured 22 people and murdered four young Black girls.

The girls were all under the age of 14.

Addie Mae Collins, Cynthia Wesley, Carole Robertson, and Carol Denise McNair should still be here today, spending time with their families, possible children, and grandchildren. They should be in their late 60s and early 70s, with many more years of joy and happiness ahead of them. They committed no crime, no sin. They were just at church with their families on a Sunday morning.

Yet here we are.

The senseless, hateful murders of these four young Black girls were part of the catalyst that led to the Civil Rights Act of 1964. Their blood permeates the ink and paper used to draft and sign the Civil Rights Act into law. Their families' pain and trauma should resonate with the politicians tasked with upholding federal hate crime laws. Many state and federal officials currently serving communities across the United States spent their formative years in the 50s and 60s and have seen the effects of anti-Blackness and white supremacy on multiple levels.

Yet here we are, with politicians decrying critical race theory and passing laws to ensure no one talks about legitimate U.S. history in our schools.

Fifty-nine years ain't that long ago, y'all. Fifty-nine years is more than enough time for white people who were also under 14 years of age in 1963 to have evolved into better people than their parents.

Yet here we are.