HAPPY(?) St. Patrick's Day

So, the St. Paddy’s Day Parade is taking place right outside my building. As I headed out for my lunch break, I was visually assaulted by waves of green, and men in kilts.

I was petrified.

Now, we all know I love a man in woman’s garb (hello, Drag Race). Rather, I was terrified by the hoards of Caucasians, smelling of booze and feeling really excited about being white. This, my friends, is when Caucasia is at its most fearful. As I weaved my way through the crowd, desperate to reach the subway station, my heart started to palpitate. There was no room to move. My purse—and my loins—were in grave danger of being snatched! I started to have a flashback to plantation days, when Massa would have me work during his big parties. Although I wasn’t allowed to look anyone in the eye, and my only job was to serve, after some mead and ale, those white men would ask me if I wanted to be serviced!! It’s dangerous for a young blacktress when Caucasia’s feeling frisky!!!

After a brief jaunt outside the office, I came back up and could not get down the street. As I took a circuitous route, I saw two girls who looked like they were Jersey Shore castoffs drinking “soda” out of a big gulp. One was screaming to the other:
“Rachel, where’s AAAAMy? Where’s AAAmy??”
Clearly, Amy’s somewhere turning 16 and pregnant. After all, we all learned from Britney Spears what happens If You Seek Amy!!!

As I made it to my office, my excitement for being black swelled. As I watched young girls become mothers, and grown men pee on the street to avoid the port-a-potty line, it felt nice to be young, gifted, and black.

My coworker, who just came back from being outside said:

“I just saw a drunk woman being carried by two friends, yelling to everyone she passed, ‘YOU’RE Retarded!’ And there were girls who were wearing t-shirts that, if I actually did what there shirts told me to do, I’d get arrested.”

I reminded him that the day would soon be over, and those girls would be back in geometry class tomorrow, tempting him no more.

Happy St. Patrick’s Day Everyone!!!

Here's the Good News - Black Love Lasts FOREVER

Sorry, gang, I totally got sidetracked at work and forgot to give you the good news. This heartwarming tidbit was brought to my attention yesterday by Scribe.

Drumroll please.....

The World's Longest Marriage is between a black man and woman!!!

After watching the episode of "Being Bobby Brown" in which Bobby talks about how he stuck his finger up Whitney's bum to help her poop and cites it as an example of "black love," I told myself I wanted no part of it. This, however, is the kind of black love I can get behind. Look at them:



Their names are Herbert and Zelmyra Fisher of New Bern, N.C. He's 104, and she's 101. They've been married 85 years!!!

Look how cute they are!!! They're over a century, but don't look a day over 8 decades. (I told y'all black don't crack). And even at 101, Zelmyra isn't afraid to wear some spring brights--no stretchy sweatpants for her--she knows how to keep her man at home (accentuate the hips--but not the one that got replaced.)

I want nothing more than to interview them. I bet Zelmyra was in the audience when I first gave my "Ain't I a Woman?" speech (j/k - she's not that old, guys!). Maybe we could sit down over some tea and soft foods and talk about what it takes to make a marriage last. Or maybe I could bring my 93-year-old G-Unit with me and they can shoot the shit about colored-only fountains and The Great Depression. I bet Zelmyra wouldn't want a younger woman around her man, though. I don't want a geriatric catfight on my hands!

So, I hope this tender tale of never-ending black love helps quell the rage-fires that burn in your heart after reading about black women's median income. It gives me just enough boost to keep on truckin'.

xoxo,
blacktress

Extra Extra, Read All About It!!!

Yesterday, two very interesting pieces of news were brought to my attention – it’s almost as though, when people think black, they think blacktress. Seeing as I’ve been waiting for this kind of power for years, I take no offense to such an association.

Let’s start with the bad news first. This bit of news actually came from my former boss—we still K.I.T like two friends from summer camp. I think the best part is that he provided no commentary whatsoever. He just emailed me an email with the subject line "wow," and posted the link below:
Study finds median wealth for single black women at $5

Y’all, we need to get this straightened out – seems like we’re still making slave wages!! Sojourner can’t handle this truth in 2010, recession or not!

For those who aren’t up for the reading, here are some highlights from the article:

For all working-age black women 18 to 64, the financial picture is bleak. Their median household wealth is only $100. Hispanic women in that age group have a median wealth of $120.

"That means half of [black women] have a net worth of more than $100 and half have a net worth of less than $100," Ms. Lui said. "So that gives you an idea of how far in debt some women of color are."

Married or cohabitating white women have a median wealth of $167,500.
Married or cohabitating black women have a median net worth of $31,500.


In a 2008 study of black women and their money, the ING Foundation found that black women -- who frequently manage the assets of their households -- financially support friends, family and their houses of worship to a much greater degree than the general population.They also are more likely to be employed in jobs and industries -- such as service occupations -- with lower pay and less access to health insurance.

"If wealth was based on hard work, African-Americans would be the wealthiest people in our nation," she said. "It's not about behavior. It's about government policies. Who does the government help and who is it not helping?

The huge disparity between the median wealth of cohabitating/married black women and cohabitating/married white women is particularly interesting, especially hot on the heels of this unofficial experiment conducted by a strong black women on a popular online dating site. She explains it in greater detail on her blog, but basically, she set up two profiles that were identical in terms of content (favorite movies, job, interests, etc), only one profile had her own photos, and the other featured those of a perky Caucasian friend. Needless to say, the responses were very different. Although we all have preferences, and the inherent “racism” of potential suitors is certainly up for debate, the one curious finding was this:
The fellas who were down with the brown weren’t down with the ejumucation. She notes:

Erin’s (fake girl’s) dudes are rocking the shit out of higher learning. 7 have Master’s degrees. There’s a frigging DOCTOR trying to get a piece. Her least educated suitor is currently in college.

More than half of my suitors didn’t finish or never even attempted college. 3 didn’t even bother listing their education level which can not be a good thing.

Even in the online world, the only men trying to get a piece of a strong black woman are unable to ultimately provide a lifestyle that could close the large income gap this article acknowledges.

WHAT ARE WE TO DO????

Okay, y’all, that was a little Thursday morning truth. Maybe not funny, but we all need to note these hot messes.
I’ll put the good news in my next post.

16 and Pregnant - DELAY!

Hello Gentle Readers,

I'm sure many of you are shocked to log onto the blog and find no news of "16 and Pregnant." Trust me, it hurts me more than it hurts you.
Fortunately for me, and unfortunately for pregnant teens, I had a stand-up show at Comix Comedy Club last night, and it directly conflicted with everyone's favorite reality show.
But do not fret, friends -- I'll be watching it online when I get home and posting tonight.

In the interim, here's a bit of what I'm sure it'll be like:

Two minutes before: Expression of excitement.

First five minutes: Expression of sadness and disdain.
Insert douchebag teen boyfriend. He will have a penchant for hair gel, and probably look like a Justin Bieber wannabe--only pubescent.

Minutes 8 - 14: Expression of shock at parental advice and/or opinion. One parent will have a boy or girlfriend close in age to the pregnant teen. It will be awkward. Hopefully there will be a mullet present.
Friends arrive to offer useless advice, except for that one smart one, who I approve of wholeheartedly.
There will be an explanation of how the teen got pregnant, probably something like. "We used the rhythm method-- like, we did it in time to this Lady Gaga song, and we figured if we stopped by the end of the track, it'd be fine."

And so on and so forth.

More deets on last night's show to come! Try not to get pregnant (or turn 16) til then!

Fellow Truth-Tellers

Happy Friday, gentle readers. It’s not even 11 am, and I’m already procrastinating on the plantation with a new post. I don’t really have anything report. I’ve got two stand up shows this weekend, and need to find the funny, stat. I think a grande Starbucks is in order sometime before lunch--extra cocaine sprinkles, so I can really feel my heart burst!

I’m just surfing the information superhighway, getting my daily dish, and I was pleased to see that my homegirl SCRIBE is back in the blogsphere. She’s another freedom writer (see my list on the lower right of your screen), and lately, she’s been telling the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the ugly truth – and I’m loving it. Check out an excerpt from the latest post:

Jesse Tyler Ferguson plays Mitchell on Modern Family, one half of a gay couple with an adopted darkie. Recently the NY Post interviewed him and everything was fine and dandy until:

PW: Are there any actors you'd like to have on the show?
Jesse: The one person I actually have gone after -- because she'd be so brilliant -- is Gabourey Sidibe. I think she would be fantastic as a nanny we hire. She's just so bubbly and sweet and a fan of the show. I think this would be a seamless fit for her.

Black woman as a nanny, hasn't that been done to death? I mean it is 2010, we have a Black First Lady for Buddha's sake! Are you for real?

Thank you, Scribe! Bringing some truth. This is why Sojo doesn’t have an agent yet—they want to box me in, bring me down!

Y’all know I’m all about breaking the barriers, especially with the black female image. This morning, as I ate my oatmeal and watched VH1 (you know how I do with my fiber boost and morning videos--it’s how I stay hip with the young people), a video came on by an artist named Angel Taylor.

It was kinda meh, poppy-acoustic-guitar summery vibe, but I was so into it because…SHE’S BLACK!
She’s basically the black version of Colbie Caillat, and I am very pleased by this.
We so rarely see black acoustic-pop female artists—I think they’ve always been there, but record labels haven’t known what to do with them. Now that we’re allegedly in some “post-racial” world, they’re not afraid to put Angel Taylor out there, complete with a video chock-full of miscegenation! Check it out:


I think it’s quite fitting that she’s on a label called AWARE Records.

Her voice has zero soul or flava, but there she is, strumming along in a coffee shop with her Colgate smile, and I’m glad.
Homegirl even has a song called CHAI TEA LATTE.
I think if we were introduced, we’d be besties—we’d bond over how people said we “talked white” growing up, and share our tastes for tall glasses of milk (you know the kind….)

I bet her dad’s a dentist.

It Has Been Decreed

KWalsh: ok well you know its going to happen
You have reached the tipping point
I reach the tipping point once every 6 months

Me: I don’t know, maybe I’m ovulating.

KWalsh: You might as well just accept the fact that a regrettable sexual encounter is in your future.

Apparently, I have no choice.

Conversations With Blacktress

Okay, I’m kind of freaking out right now. How am I just finding out today that Roger Ebert has a black wife? I’m a discredit to both my primary and secondary race – that of film scholars.
Have I been living in a cave????
I like to think that, as the world’s preeminent blacktress (“preeminent” means ‘popular among my friends,’ right?), I’ve got my finger on the pulse of American culture, especially film and television.
Apparently, if it’s not the tale of a genetic anomaly or a pregnant teen, I’m just as in the dark as my 93 ½ year old grandmother.

I give this coupling TWO THUMBS UP!

If I’d known about Ebert’s black wife, I would have certainly profiled her for BHM!!!

I think my favorite quote so far (as I scour the interwebs for news of their love), is this:

"One of the things I admire about Roger is that his ego and his intellect enjoy a challenge," she says. "He likes a woman of substance who is smart and has something to say."

In other words, Roger’s not afraid of a strong black woman!
I guess I need to start hitting up the nerdy, film-critic set to find a man who can go toe to toe with a blacktress.

This decision comes in the wake of a recent exchange I had on the streets of NYC. It was a page out of Conversations With Deb, so ridiculous that I couldn’t even believe it was happening to me. So embarrassing that I had to go home and eat a brownie right afterward. So tragic that I had to share it with you, gentle readers. Here goes:

Monday night, around 6:30pm, I'm walking down the street with my friend Danielle, talking about life.
Me: I'm never going to find a boyfriend.
Danielle (loudly): Yes you ARE!
Random Man Crossing the Street, smiling at Sojourner and Danielle: No you're not!!!

This man was not homeless. He was not visibly intoxicated. He actually kind of looked like a grown-up Harry Potter.

And yet he still knew.