Divesting · Racism · Thriving

I’m Not Wasting My Life Being a “Race Soldier”

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Take a long hard look at this photo. What do you see?

I see a baby who is already being programmed to be a race soldier for the black collective.

It looks like it is night time, but this little girl is standing outside in the trash-filled streets of Ferguson holding up a sign at a protest for Michael Brown.

This should not be.

Little girls should be at home in the care and safety of their parents playing with toys, reading and writing, coloring, watching children’s programs on TV, dancing, gardening, and just enjoying their childhood.

But when I look at this photo, I don’t see a little girl enjoying her childhood and having fun doing the normal things that children do.

She has a straight serious face. She’s been thrust into a protest about something that is far beyond her understanding. . . . the killing of a young black man. This is not her burden to bear. She should not have been there.

This is wrong.

Something is seriously and terribly backwards when baby girls are standing in the street in dangerous environments holding up signs at protests.

I will never agree with this or see it as normal. Ever.

Little black girls are not race soldiers. They are children. And they should not be trained to be warriors, superwomen, and human shields to catch bullets, tear gas, and tasers for the black collective.

Apparently, the race soldier programming starts early. The messages are sent as soon as baby girls leave their mothers’ womb and learn how to walk, talk, and hold up signs.

Hey little girl. . . come stand outside in the ghetto at night to protest for a black man that you don’t know, because he got shot by a non-black cop.

Stand in this street next to this trash and hold up this sign that you don’t understand.

Even though no one cares about little black girls being sexually assaulted, beat, shot, robbed, kidnapped and trafficked – you need to spend the rest of your life marching, protesting, yelling, crying, and fighting this race war against white supremacy for the advancement of black men.

If something bad happens to you while you are standing out here in this dangerous environment, no one will care because you aren’t as important as black boys and black men who get killed by non-black cops. But the important thing is that you are loyal to the black collective.

Let it be said that I love my blackness and I do care about black people. I will help out when I can (within reason). However, I’m not going to waste my life being a race soldier for the black collective.

Personally, I have come to terms with the reality that the race war is not going to end, because most black men (and many women) are easily misled, weak, in denial, too dependent on others, see themselves as inferior to white people, refuse to take control of their lives, fail to plan ahead, and shun morality and logic, all of which makes them easy to conquer and enslave.

I have come to terms with the reality that the black collective doesn’t truly want freedom, because freedom comes with responsibility, accountability, self-sufficiency, self-control, and a self-sustaining internal structure, order, and morale to maintain that freedom.

The black collective is stuck in a vicious cycle using antiquated thinking and methods to force “the white man” to give them freedom. This is an unproductive endeavor, because most of the enslavement within the black collective is self-inflicted.

All of this “the white man” rhetoric falls on deaf ears over here, because I know the real deal. I’m not buying this historical revisionist myth that “the white man” is to blame for most of the dysfunction, injustice, abuse, and death within the black collective.

I’m not putting on any marching boots to protest, shout, and put myself in danger. I did not enlist as a soldier to fight in anyone’s race war. There is no black nation to fight for. There is no black unity or solidarity. There is no army to back me up.

I’m not spending my entire life being angry.

I’m not spending my entire life being depressed and sad.

I’m not spending my entire life ranting and railing against white racism.

I’m not spending my entire life speaking like an oppressed victim.

I’m not spending my entire life fighting.

I’m not wearing myself out.

I’m not running myself down.

I’m not spreading myself thin.

It’s not healthy and it’s not a productive use of my life, time, energy, and resources.

There are other things that I would like to do.

The only black man that I need to support is my husband, and not even he would have me standing in the middle of battle on his behalf putting my life in danger.

My husband believes that it is his job to protect me and fight for me if need be. He would not be okay with me marching through the ghetto, holding up a sign, screaming, protesting in the midst of bullets, billy clubs, tear gas, police dogs, and taser guns to protest for anyone.

He would not be okay with a police officer abusing his or her authority over me, harming me, and arresting me. He would not be okay with me sitting in jail.

He would not be okay with me getting caught up in the pandemonium and anarchy of a riot, or being harmed or killed by a black male rioter who sees me as a “soft target” to beat, rape, rob, shoot, or use as a human shield.

I’m not okay with any of that either.

I am a woman, a wife, and a mother, not a race soldier. I was not put on this earth to fight for random black men who don’t know me or care about me in a race war.

Some black men will be upset with my choice, but I don’t care. They need to stop emasculating themselves by encouraging women to fight on the front lines for them. As much as they complain about black women being manly, masculine, aggressive, and loud – they should be happy that I refuse to be a race soldier.

I’m aware that racism exists, and what I will continue to do is be smart and savvy about how I navigate in this society and fight my OWN battles.

What I won’t do is jump on social justice bandwagons willy nilly to march, protest, petition, and post hashtags. None of that is going to stop the race war, make the black collective better, or prosper my own life.

I am not striving to “overcome the white man” or “overcome white racism” because I don’t see myself as an oppressed slave under the power of white racism. I’m not begging, pleading, demanding, or petitioning anyone for power that I already have. That’s a Jedi Mind Trick.

Black people already have power, but they don’t use it properly or they claim that they don’t have any because “the white man” holds it all.

The power that I have comes from God (not “the white man”) and I will use my power in a manner that is productive, beneficial, and honorable.

I have seen how the black collective treats black women who fight as race soldiers in the race war, and I am not going out like that. I refuse to accept that type of mistreatment, exploitation, neglect, ungratefulness, and lack of appreciation.

I am not about to be anyone’s collective doormat for them to wipe their feet on and then walk away without reciprocating or saying so much as “thank you” as if I don’t exist.

Whether it’s Rosa Parks, Betty Shabazz, the women of the Black Panther Party, or Sandra Bland – the black collective treats women who fought as race soldiers like yesterday’s trash. I don’t judge these women for the choices that they made, but I won’t make those same choices either.

This doesn’t mean that I’m going to stick my head in the sand and ignore injustice and evil. But I’m not going to immerse myself in a race war either. That is a very dark place to be and I believe that it can contribute to mental health issues, depression, anxiety, stress, despair, an obsession with racism, and suicidal thoughts and feelings.

If other people choose to spend their life that way, that is on them. But as for me, I am going to spend my life being as happy and at peace as I can, and enjoy my life as much as possible.

Until next time,

Petals & Pistols

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