Dear White Girl

Black Girl Problems: Continually viewed as aggressive and dangerous any time I show any kind of emotion where white women are seen as vulnerable and in need of protection/comforting/empathy for sharing the same thoughts/emotions.  And that this  is the same mindset that gets black women incarcerated, abused, overlooked, raped, and murdered.


Dear White Girl,

Please understand that you have been raised in a society that is conditioned to view you as innocent, even when you’re not.  Please recognize that you benefit from a system of oppression – a system that continually oppresses marginalized people.

Dear White Girl,

Yes, we both have glass ceilings to shatter – I just have to climb from the basement to get there and your white privilege has given you an elevator key.

Yes, my sister, we are both fighting the patriarchy and under the weight of misogyny – that burden has been put on our shoulders to overthrow.  But not only do I share this burden, but I also have hundreds of years of racism digging into my skin –  slavery, Jim Crow and segregation –  this is my forced inheritance carved in my flesh – I carry it, not because I am inherently stronger than you –  but because I have to and you never did. I get it’s alot to unpack.

Dear white girl,  please know that I do not resent you for your skin color but I resent the privilege that comes with it and the ways you have benefited when it has only added weight to my shoulders.  I only blame you when you use that privilege to excuse your ignorance and use that ignorance as an excuse to remain ignorant.

Rape is the fault of a rapist. A white girl is raped and it’s a tragedy.   A black girl is raped and it is tolerated – expected- and overlooked.

Dear White Girl, no you may not touch my hair. The world is not your petting zoo, and I am not an animal. I am just as much woman and deserving of respect.


Dear White Girl,   women are beautiful  – but your beauty is held on a pedestal and my beauty is only revered as a fetish. After 300 years you still think you are the wife and I am at the discretion of the perversion of men.

You’ll darken your skin – you’ll curl your hair – you’ll puff out your lips, and get implants for your breasts and ass to try and look like me. Why can’t we both sit at the table however we damn well please. This is not a competition.

This is not a competition

This is not a competition



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