When Do We Matter?

This is your reminder that every day 4 Black women and girls are murdered. Please consider supporting Rosalind Page (@blackfemicideUS) and remember to protect Black women. -JBHarris

I wrote a poem for called Sisyphus Was A Black Woman, when I write the lines:

I just want to know, dear world, and the inky black universe,

how is this all Black women’s fault?

Sisyphus Was A Black Woman, JBHarris

And I meant that–with all my might. I meant every word that I wrote. I meant every syllable and swear. I am tired of my life, my existence in this constant state of threat because either my sex, my race or both opens doors to violence I don’t create. Every day, I live in the reality that, if I move wrong, I may not get back home to my daughters!

When I say this to non-Black people I am told I am overacting. When I tell this to Black men, they scoff at me. When I count my breaths when a police car is behind me, my daughters notice.

We live in a world that is anti-Black, anti-woman, and powered by capitalism in the hands of men who only want you to see what new thing you can get from Amazon, not the desperate situation of the people around you!

I ask myself, constantly, how can I protect my children from a world that I can’t always protect myself from? But you know, I’m a Black woman: my default is always survival. But for how long?

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