Title: Nobody Talks About This Part of Moving to Africa as a Black American

I see a lot of conversations about Black Americans moving to Africa.

People talk about citizenship.

They talk about culture.

They talk about the cost of living.

They talk about buying land.

But very few people talk about what happens after you get there.

Specifically:

How are people actually making money?

Not everyone has a pension.

Not everyone is retiring.

Not everyone has a six-figure remote tech job.

Many people arrive with savings and a dream, only to realize that local wages often won't support the lifestyle they planned for.

So I'm curious:

For Black Americans who have moved to countries like Ghana, Kenya, Tanzania, Rwanda, South Africa, Senegal, or elsewhere—

• What do you do for income?
• Do you work remotely?
• Did you start a business?
• How long did it take to become financially stable?
• What skills have been most valuable?
• What opportunities do you think people overlook?

I honestly think earning income remotely may be one of the biggest challenges facing people who want to relocate permanently.

The dream of moving is exciting.

The reality of paying rent, supporting family, and building a sustainable life is a different conversation.

I'd love to hear from people who have actually figured it out.

What worked for you?

It’s in our documents, in our files, in our history and in our heritage of us Melaneisan being black btw so argue with the wall and deal with it

I'm pro-Black, all the way. Black being is my obsession. So, don't take this wrong.

But the "DNA" framing on that post isn't quite right, and the distinction matters.

Traditional African music isn't R&B. Caribbean cultures built their own independent traditions. Afrobeat exists because James Brown's imprint reached Fela Kuti. Reggae emerged after New Orleans rhythm-and-blues hit Jamaican radio post-WWII. Black British gospel and soul were born when Edwin Hawkins and American soul music shook the Diaspora. And so forth.

None of these forms existed before Black American music reached them—because Gospel, Jazz, Blues, Soul, Funk, R&B, and Hip-Hop were born in exactly one place.

These are the primary colors of popular music worldwide—and we had to crush all the seeds to make those pigments. They're paints grounded from an American experience that produced nothing else like it, anywhere on Earth.

What every artist on that post is doing, however beautifully, is built on a particular cultural foundation only Black Americans were positioned to forge...from specific conditions, a specific history, on specific soil.

So, keep growing together. Keep the music flourishing. Our cultures cross over easily because we do share ancestral bonds—and that's real. Let our similarities do bring us closer.

But, don't get it twisted: shared roots and shared credit aren't the same thing. This isn't sheer "DNA" doing the work. It's influence. Black American influence.

And the least we can do is say so. So many people won't.

By Glasses Malone

There’s a fatal flaw in how upper-class success is handled in Black America, and it’s time to drag it into the light. When you look at other immigrant or minority communities in cities like Los Angeles or Chicago, they build localized micro-economies. They build a Little Tokyo, a Chinatown, or a Little Vietnam. They incentivize their own people, open businesses, hire within the community, and actively lift the economic floor.

But our wealthy elite? Too many of them reach a certain tax bracket and immediately disconnect themselves from the flock. They adopt a toxic mindset that separates "respectable" Black folk from the disenfranchised brothers and sisters left on the pavement. The second a shepherd separates themselves from the well-being of the poorest sheep, they become a sellout. The real tragedy is that so many affluent individuals don't build up their own fountain; they just use their wealth to buy a ticket to go drink out of the white fountain because they’ve been conditioned to think it’s cleaner. Personal success without community purpose is just an elegant form of abandonment. #GlassesMalone #NoCeilingsPod

https://www.youtube.com/live/AUJEWewhw_A?si=DKb1mR9D-3GjRhf2

Within the last 24 hours, we’ve once again witnessed the kind of injustice that makes your chest feel heavy. Innocent Black children are being taken from us, and the system responds with silence.
Dear Black community… how many more times are we going to watch this happen and say nothing? As the years go by, the pain keeps stacking up. More of our people are being targeted, more lives are being cut short, and it feels like the world just keeps moving on.
We are not weaker. We are not lesser. And we damn sure aren’t giving up.
I’m tired of feeling this deep sadness mixed with rage. If you’re out there feeling lost, scared, or hopeless about the future of our kids, I see you. We’ve carried too much for too long.
It’s time we stand together with purpose not just in grief, but in strength and dignity. We owe it to the ones we’ve lost and the ones still here.
If your heart is heavy but your spirit is still fighting, drop a comment and/or dm. Let’s talk. Let’s remember who we are.

Bobby Shmurda called Jay-Z too old to act a certain way...in an Instagram Story written like a middle schooler borrowing their friend's phone.

The irony here hurts. It's almost instructive. Jesus identity Christ... 🤦🏿‍♂️

Hip-hop was born young and its original fire comes from the youth. But the legends grew with it—at least, the ones who survived...

If you've got criticism about Jay-Z the man, go ahead and state your peace. Adults can be critics.

But clowning the man for still being in hip-hop—when he's forgotten more about the craft than Bobby's ever learned—and doing it this clumsily?

That's not criticism. That's embarrassment.

Overgrown teenagers, I told y'all.

Just too many among our fellow Black people, especially loudmouths in the public light nowadays.

And it's even worse when they have fame and platforms. Because now, they confuse public attention as their adulthood working...

That's just childhood extended, man.

Hello. I am a 46-year-old lifelong resident of Newark, NJ. Throughout my lifetime living in the city the 5 wards were pretty easy to categorize by race and ethnicity. The west, central, and south wards were predominately black people. The north and east ward were Latin people. Around 2019 or 2020 the amount of black people started diminishing in my neighborhood (south ward). Before this time almost everyone on my street was black people. Today, I am one of less than a handful of Black Americans on my street. This is happening in the school system as well. Black children enrolled in Newark schools are down to 35%. I am bringing up this topic because I would like to know where the Black Americans going that have left the city. Also, is this happening in your cities or towns as well?

Shocker, right?

The National Gallery of Art went viral for having their curator Allison Lux drop "clocked its tea," "highkey heated rivalry coded," "snatched girly," "no crumbs," "lowkey," "lit," "mid," and "slaps" in art history videos.

CBS Evening News covered it oh-so-ever warmly. Millions of views. Thousands of comments saying she slays. Good vibes only.

Y'all already know how this goes.

And look, y'all—I'm not coming for this woman personally. She's 77. She probably genuinely believes this is just zany stuff young people came up with.

But that's exactly how the cultural laundering works. By the time it reaches a museum curator born before the Civil Rights Act, every fingerprint has been wiped off so many times there's nothing left to trace.

She's just the latest stop on a very old conveyor belt. A dear old lady just trying to educate these kids who do need to expand their horizons educationally. I don't envy the plight of educators nowadays.

But this kind of buzz here still comes at a cost to us culturally: No Black credit, no Black history such as on our unique Black language, no thousands of views for us.

CBS's reporter said on air that Lux "doesn't look like a person who would speak Gen Z"—meaning the charm is a white woman her age using it.

The framing treats Gen Z as a generation as the language's owners. Not Black Americans. Not Black youth. Just youth culture broadly. Same as always.

Every term in this segment—"tea," "coded," "snatched," "mid," "no crumbs," "lowkey," "lit," "aura," "slaps"—is AAVE. Black American Vernacular English.

Black slang. Blackness.

Not internet talk. Not TikTok lingo. Not "as the kids say." We've been saying this for decades and we'll probably be saying it for decades more.

None of this is new. This phenomenon is even older than she is.

Our Black people build it, the world takes it, somebody renames it, and by the time it hits the news the origin is just gone.

Black people build the language. The world borrows it. Somebody rebrands it. An institution adopts it. A news segment celebrates it.

And, somewhere along that delivery chain, the return address got scrapped off. Funny how that keeps happening.

And keeps happening.

And keeps happening.

The old lady didn't steal anything consciously. She's just where the cultural conveyor belt dropped it off this week.

Again, we know the routine. We're just logging it again. For posterity.

We'll see it again. Probably same time, next week.

I don’t know what it is but black women never my type I ask them why and they’ll never have a reason to it idk if they just tryna be nice or not but my success with black women is literally impossible. I’ve realized I only attract snow bunnies not all but a lot of them. But I’d typically rather go for a lightskin girl but it’s always one sided. Do anybody else have the problem as a black men do yall yall have little success when it comes to black women or is it me? Like snow bunnies cool and all but idk if that what I want.

You've seen it. Or something like it.

We've watched it long enough that some of us have started shrugging, and that's the thing that needs addressing before anything else.

The shrug. The "it is what it is."

Care. Please care.

More than you already quietly do.

What It Is, For the Record

For tonight's feature, I'll use durags.

The durag is just the example. The phenomenon is much larger.

Pick anything the world has lifted from us—and ask yourself why it keeps happening with such consistency, and such comfort.

Why durags tonight? Because I'm out here somewhere with a 5% Black population, watching dudes who don't look like me throwing on durags like it's family tradition.

Like everywhere else across America. And beyond.

Y'all already know:

The durag is not a hat. It is not a vibe.

It's a compression tool engineered specifically for Black hair, by Black people—its coil pattern, its porosity, its specific maintenance requirements.

It exists because we as Black people needed it to exist, built it into culture, wore it through stigma, and made it mean something along the way.

That meaning did not come free.

Black men were denied jobs because of it. Written up in dress codes. Flagged as Neighborhood Watch threats before we opened our mouths.

The durag was used for decades as shorthand for dangerous, low-class, unwelcome, too Black—and Black people wore it anyway, because its function is non-negotiable and our culture is resilient.

Then—in this age of attention economics, the precise moment the algorithm decided Blackness as extracurricular activity was interesting—every demographic that never experienced a day of that stigma put one on their head and called it just a look.

They inherited none of the cost. They wanted only the reward. And they would like to receive no criticism for this arrangement.

But..."Imitation Is Flattery," Right?

Flattery requires awareness of the thing you're honoring. A student who watches a master and then practices. Someone moved by excellence to pursue it themselves.

This is not that.

This is more like buying a stethoscope because doctors look important and then wearing it out to Target. You didn't go to medical school. You ain't checking nobody's vitals. You wanted eyes on you. All signal, no substance.

That's not homage. That's costumery. Tourism. Mimicry without merit.

And, frankly, it's all too familiar.

The Part That Rhymes With Something We All Know

There's an older tradition here and it deserves to be named plainly.

Blackface was not fundamentally just about darkened skin. It was about performing Blackness as a costume—selecting the signals of Black life and wearing them for reward, while we as the actual Black people those signals came from were degraded for possessing them authentically.

The performer absorbed none of the cost. The audience applauded. The act grew popular. The source got nothing. Racism molded into parody form, sold as novelty.

The structure hasn't changed as much as people like to believe. It's just got more synonyms now.

The durag was stigmatized when Black people wore it. The same cultural machine that generated that stigma watched non-Black people make it a TikTok aesthetic and had absolutely nothing to say about it.

So, the problem to others was never the durag. The problem was who was wearing it.

Their Response? Audacious Defensiveness

When we raise this—even as calmly, with context, as I'm raising it here—they get upset.

As though we have done something to them.

The rebuttals are always a variation of the following:

"It's just a hat." You chose this specific one because of what it signals. You know it signals something. It's not just a hat.

"I'm paying homage." Homage requires knowledge of what you're honoring. Start there and come back—actually, don't. Because honor isn't even your goal. It's done about you, not us.

"But it's respect, though." Imposition is not respect. Respect isn't what you decide it means for us—it's whether what you offer is something we'd actually want to receive. You don't even offer anything. You take.

"You don't own fabric." Nobody's filing a patent claim. We're pointing out that you're performing a cultural identity you haven't earned, don't understand, and will abandon the moment it stops trending.

(Or, worse: you try to pass it along as suddenly your culture, too—all without roots of your own or respect for ours.)

The defensiveness is itself informative. If it truly meant nothing, criticism would roll off effortlessly. The upset reveals that they know, somewhere below the surface, that they are wearing something that isn't theirs.

As my dad raised me on: You don't circumvent truth unless you have some awareness of it.

The Actual Point

We ain't got to review history here. This ain't new. The form changes. The function doesn't:

Black people build something. It gets coded as dangerous or low-class when Black people live it. Dominant society discovers it. It becomes cool. Black people don't get squat for it—not even credit. The window closes. The cycle resets.

Every. Single. Time. Well over a century. Nonstop. No thanks. Without apology.

Music. Language. Fashion. Dance. Slang. Posture. The entire aesthetic vocabulary of "cool" has been a continuous one-way extraction—and the extractors have developed an almost supernatural ability to never notice they're doing it. Or to simply not care.

Again, none of this is breaking news.

What is worth saying again—loudly, especially to younger Black Americans who've watched this so consistently it registers as normal—is that familiarity is not acceptability.

Louder, for the back: familiarity is not acceptability.

They've been doing this long enough that our exhaustion has started to look like permission.

It is not permission. Do not let their audacity become your ambience.

And to our many detractors, who spend an exorbitant amount of energy trying to minimize our voice, claiming we make too much of these "trivial" matters:

You don't spend this much energy borrowing from people you actually believe are beneath you, trying to silence about us what you all keep exploiting so loudly.

Sit down somewhere with that.

I have donated so much to my local museum. Juneteenth is a big holiday and was invented IN TEXAS. To have my city do this is incredibly disrespectful to what the event is even about. I am so tired of seeing a holiday that celebrates Black American culture, Black American contributions and Black American history and how we are overcoming the deepest horrors of enslavement be forced to center whiteness and white beauty.

EDIT: I also posted this on another sub where it did get more traction and people also addressed the use of my words “terribly” and “ghetto” em mass. My edit here is probably more civil just cause people haven’t been stressing it as much here after I’ve addressed it multiple times there. Terribly is a synonym for very without negative connotation, that was how I used and intended it; being darker is not terrible. Disregarding that, I know now why I shouldn’t use that word in that circumstance, and I won’t anymore. When I used the word ghetto, I was using my step-dad’s words as he was screaming at me. I know what a ghetto is, I know this history behind ghettos, and never in my life have I personally used that word to describe someone or something. Additionally, to everyone who thinks the black kids at my school don’t “fuck with me” as many people have been wording it, they’ve threatened to sexually assault me and many other girls at my school. I don’t fuck with them. If you want bad rep so bad, there you go, but please don’t call me racist because of this? I’m muting replies on this just as I have the other, but thank you so much to anyone who did give me the time of day here and give support.

I’ve never really posted on Reddit so I don’t really know how this works… so I guess I’m just gonna yap

I’m f16 and mixed, and I’ve grown up in a few different towns in Upstate NY to give context and still be vague. My mom is a mix of every pasty white you can imagine, and my dad immigrated from Haiti, so literally take two polar opposites and put them together and that’s me 😭 I’m not terribly dark, but obviously black with very curly hair.

The first time someone said the n word to me was in 1st grade, some little white boy asking my music why he kept calling on me because I was the hard r. I knew it was bad but I didn’t get the extent obviously.

Through the rest of elementary school and middle school I can’t say it was very bad, I can’t recall really any instances with racism (then again, my memory is spotty at that time for various reasons and also nobody really talked to me). Even then I was either the only POC in class, or one of few, and again nobody ever bothered to talk to me because I’m the mixed kid that knows nothing about black culture and has constantly been surrounded by white people.

I’m not saying this is bad, but since then I’ve moved towns and have landed in a significantly more racist one. I was really optimistic at first, but I realized this year when the sun bleached “TRUMP VANCE 2024” banners were still up on all my neighbors’ houses maybe I should think about this more.

This year specifically has been horrible. Kids at my school have gotten worse, to say the LEAST. I hear the n word every day. There is a VERY small group of black people at my school, and they’re all boys in 9th or 10th grade that sexually harass every girl in their general vicinity. I’ve had to switch multiple study halls and went to independent gym to get away from them.

My school does nothing, go figure. They’re always a first offender, even when this little freshman looks at me and tells me he has free speech, and I need to grow up if him saying the n word affects me in any way (pasty white btw).

I’m sick of it. I’m sick of being terrified to leave my house. I’m sick of being pointed at by people driving by when I’m trying to walk to the store. I’m sick of getting panic attacks when I think about walking my dog. I’m sick of hearing the n word every day from people who have no idea what it means.

I guess above all that’d all be fine if I had ANYONE to talk to about it, but I don’t. I feel really weird talking to the void of Reddit, but who else? I’ve never had any black friends. My dad is out of the picture so that’s a no go, and my step dad thinks he’s “blacker than me” (direct quote) because he grew up in a ghetto.

I feel so isolated I guess, I’ve never really put this into words, I don’t even really know what the point of what I’m saying is anymore, ig I’m just ranting 😭

I’m turning 18 next year but have no idea where to go to experience ANYTHING else and actually be able to live… America kinda sucks right now yk… I guess I just want to feel less in a white hole and know anything about anything else. I feel like I’ve just been completely cut off from the present culture in that way ig?? Like even if I were to be educated would I even be accepted in a space like that? I know biracial people experience additional discrimination within black spaces, and I don’t even know what to think about that, but I guess I’ll get there when or if I ever actually do.

Anyways… advice I guess…? Idk, at least I got all this off my chest.

Touré Neblett EXPOSED Cheyenne Bryant And Her Behind The Scenes DRAMA Its BAD https://youtu.be/aJT58_-FLDE?si=HTYeateIutFqJAwz 

The Montgomery Brawl. The guy with the chair. The guy who swam over to help was my personal fave. Triumphant moment in modern black (internet) history. I remember when the video first came out. They were maddddddd they lost. It was beautiful.

And, no, there are no Black women being interviewed in this news story (except for one Black lady, who wasn't the "single mother" subject of this news).

You'll see why I said I love you, our beautiful 92%. 👍🏿

In the past year women (mostly non black women) have been telling the men they are with I'm watching them or looked at them and I didn't notice them and it's freaking me out, sometimes they will stare at me until I notice them or stand close to me and stare and when I notice they give me a look of contempt, go the other way or say something loudly. The mens reaction range from idgaf to anger or they look at me like what they are saying doesn't make sense. Its happened while I was with my sister a few times and her reaction was just "what is wrong with her". Anyways I've had a few near death experiences because of this situation and reported them to the police but I fear my luck will run out, I've been abroad trying to collect my thoughts but i can't really escape whatever I'm triggering. All this started happening after I gained 60 pounds and immediately I was perceived as some threat and at the same time sexualized and women have gone as far as touching me or testing my boundaries then claiming I'm the problem or taking pictures of me and saying I'm a creep to others (like I'm being punished for their actions) which escalates to other women attention baiting and recording or taking pictures of me and doing the same thing. Has anyone had this experience? I don't know how to handle this

I’ll try to explain this the best I can because this situation has been bothering me for a while now.

Around April or May of last year, my brother’s dad called me a crusty N-word because I didn’t go to Zaxby’s with him. Mind you, this is a 40+ year old grown man.

At first I thought he was cool, but over time he started becoming really disrespectful to my mom too.

The day he called me that my mom (ig she knew that he called me that and she told me not to do or say anything lmao) but it wasnt until I went to my mom crying and then she decided to do something about it.

She brought him into the room and I started telling him about himself and how what he said made me feel because he acts like he can say whatever he wants with no consequences. In the end, he never apologized, he just left. My little brother ended up having a panic attack and somehow I was the one who got yelled at afterwards lmao.

Then about a month ago, my mom was talking about how she was finally done with him because he told her to shut up three times in a row and she realized he didn’t care about her feelings. I was honestly happy because I thought she finally realized how disrespectful he was and that she wouldn’t keep talking to him. (Got my hopes up)

But now they’re talking again. She’s calling him, going to his house for hours, and it’s honestly making me mad. Not only did he disrespect me and call me a crusty nword, but he disrespected her too. And now she’s saying stuff like “you’re gonna distance yourself the first chance you get” I mean I don't want to but you're making it hard. Situations like this are exactly the reason.

They’re both 40+ years old and she still wants to give him another chance after all of this. Am I overreacting for being upset about it?

Cheyenne Bryant Trademark EXPOSED By Lawyer Classmate And Victim Calls Her OUT https://youtu.be/1OcDBlVLIJk?si=Zo5V4f_gCOphStMk 

No matter your intelligence level, no matter how much you try and integrate and assimilate, your efforts may be in complete vain. At what point do we just stop trying?

This is pretty scary, more than all other previous Ebola outbreaks. They're trying to contain it in Congo, but are struggling hard.

No alarmism or news sensationalization here. This is serious crisis-level stuff.

We need world-leading experts and the best of our governments available.

But, unfortunately, we don't have around as much, anymore...

We (as the U.S. particularly and as a world generally) need major political changes on the global stage—quick, fast, and in a hurry. Our friends need us.

Our world needs to lend our best help available, or else, it won't just be our friends in Congo who need help.

A couple weeks back, a Black American creator named @k_showtime flew all the way to Indonesia—not to flex, not to stunt—to connect with people through basketball. Good faith. Shared love of the game. Cross-cultural respect on the table.

He got racism in return.

I want you to hold that image in your mind while I say what I'm about to say, because that story is the argument.

And notice: this didn't happen in Alabama.

This happened in Indonesia. A Southeast Asian nation thousands of miles from the American South, with no Jim Crow laws, no sundown towns, no history of owning Black people.

And yet the racism @k_showtime encountered there would have felt familiar to any Black American who's ever walked into the wrong room.

That is not a coincidence. That is a curriculum.

White supremacy was never just an American invention—it was an American export, and before that a European one. Colonialism spent centuries circling the globe teaching every nation it touched the same core lesson: Black is the bottom.

That curriculum got absorbed. It got localized. And in many places, it didn't even need white people in the room anymore to keep running—it just needed people who'd learned the lesson well enough to pass it on themselves.

This is what I mean when I say "WALOism" isn't a product of American demographics. It's a global disposition.

(What's "WALO"? In short: "White/Asian/Latino/Other," a direct counter to the "people of color" label.)

Anti-Blackness shows up in colorism hierarchies across South and East Asia. It shows up in how Afro-Latinos are treated within their own supposed communities. It shows up in the way African migrants are treated across the Middle East.

It shows up in Indonesia, on a basketball court, against a Black man who came in peace.

The "ALO" didn't learn to look down on Black people by living next to us in America. Some of them came here already knowing. They just found a country where that prejudice had infrastructure—labels, coalitions, civil branding—they could borrow while keeping the contempt they arrived with.

That's not a misunderstanding. That's not cultural friction. That's a feature they imported and a resource they extracted.

@k_showtime didn't have to be in America for it to find him.

Stop calling these people "people of color."

That is a Black term. It was bought with Black trauma, Black blood, Black legal battles.

Nobody else was wearing it until the 1980s—when non-white immigrant demographics discovered they could plug themselves into the civil rights infrastructure Black Americans built and start drawing benefits.

Like Black American English. Like Black American music. Like Black American style. The pattern is consistent: take what's useful, drop it when it's no longer convenient, and show your true face the moment you feel comfortable enough to do so.

@k_showtime felt comfortable. Extended good faith. You saw what came back.

Stop calling these people "minorities."

Nobody wore that label the way it's worn now until after the Civil Rights Acts—which Black Americans bled for—opened the immigration floodgates and transformed U.S. demographics permanently.

Let's be precise about who we're talking about:

Asians represent over 4 billion people globally—more than the rest of humanity combined. Non-Afro Latinos are already numerically ahead of Black Americans domestically and will be 1 in 4 Americans by 2050.

Meanwhile, Black Latinos are kept invisible and stratified within Latino society itself—silenced by the very communities claiming shared "minority" status with us.

"Minority" was never just a head count. The spirit of the word is about an oppressed and outlier people placed into subordinate position—enslaved, segregated, legally dehumanized, structurally excluded from the wealth of the nation they built. That is the Black American condition.

Coming freely to a country in smaller numbers than your countrymen back home is not that. That is called immigration.

Here's your receipt.

When Jesse Jackson—a man who marched beside Dr. King, who put the very concept of a "rainbow coalition" on the national map, who extended more good faith to other communities than most of us would have—passed away recently, I watched to see who showed up online.

And I saw more white allies paying tribute than I saw from the so-called "people of color" those coalitions were supposedly built for.

That told me everything. I even made a post here at r/BlackPeople highlighting it.

If the coalition was ever real, Jesse Jackson's death was the moment to prove it. The silence from the "ALO" in WALO spoke for itself.

Here's the bottom line.

You don't get to claim part of the American deed and opt out of the American Debt.

These communities arrive and immediately talk about "our Founding Fathers" and "immigrants built this nation"—while the people who were dragged here in chains and forced to build it are still waiting on a check and a conversation.

You want to claim ownership of this country's founding story? Then you share in the bill. Get that reparations checkbook ready alongside the people who wrote the original invoice.

My coinage "WALO"—White, Asian, Latino, Other—is one way I try to name this clearly. The point is simple and harsh: they are not like us.

Yes, it's a broad label. So is "people of color." The difference is mine is honest about what it describes.

Those who benefit from white supremacy's social architecture and do nothing to dismantle it are participants in it, not victims of it.

The "ALO" has proven, repeatedly, that they are white-adjacent in practice regardless of what box they check on a form.

And as @k_showtime proved without even leaving the airport of that argument—they don't need to be on American soil to act like it.

I'm not the Kumbaya Negro™. 🙅🏿‍♂️

I don't want a rainbow coalition. That window closed—and they closed it.

They showed us who they are in moments like @k_showtime's. In the silence after Jesse Jackson died. Back on November 5, 2024.

In every moment they grabbed our language, our labels, and our legal wins and gave nothing back but the back of their hand.

I want peace for us. Not unity with people who've told us clearly and repeatedly where we stand with them.

I want Black children to have a real future. I want Black elders to finally rest from a fight they've been carrying their entire lives and ours.

I want Black Americans to stop subsidizing the social mobility of communities that turn around and spit on us—here and abroad.

We tried it the other way. For decades. We have the data now.

Say something. Say it louder.

— This post references the incident originally shared by @WelcomeToTheCulture on Instagram