I Wanna Rock Right Now...

Black Girls Rock.  Yeah I know, and I agree.  Black women have been pillars of our community and their impact and prowess in the fields of academia, business and the world in general is undeniable.  Last night BET held a celebration of black women that had my twitter feed jumping.  Everything from testimonials to harsh critiques of the evenings performances came pouring through my phone.  At the end of the night, I was sure of one thing: BLACK GIRLS ROCK!!!!!!

I didn't watch the show, so I have nothing to add to the critique of the festivities themselves.  I did, however, have a critique on our society and culture with the following tweet:

So when is the Black Men Rock special?  Oh that's right...y'all couldn't give less of a fuck about us.

Needless to say, that comment was not well received.  I don't really care that people didn't like it, but I do take exception to the "backlash" because most of the people that disagreed misunderstood my point.  Here is my attempt to explain myself...

First, my language was harsh to accentuate the fact that this was one of those "I was joking, but kind of serious" moments.  The actual mood of that tweet was not as angry as it came across.  That's my fault as the author.  Bad Diction.

The thing I would like to point out is that at no point did I bash black women or the celebration.  I merely pointed out that while this went on for black chicks, there will be no such celebration for black men; reason being, the overall attitude this country has toward black men is that we are lazy and undeserving.  I, often times, am led to believe we would not be worth the time and effort of a celebration of that magnitude.  As a black man, it sucks that even though the former doesn't apply to me, this is how the world sees me when I leave my house (until I prove them wrong).

I understand that this is not very different from how black women can be seen, but there are books, movies, websites, etc. designed with the purpose of building up the black woman (and sadly it's only because black women have grown into a powerful consumer group).  This is great...for black women.  Sadly, over time the strength of the black woman seems to be put to more use strangling the spirit of the black man. 

"Niggas ain't shit!" (which really means we are not shit...which doesn't make sense. Unless shit is something you want to be...but i digress) I hear this phrase twice as much as i hear the opposite, and sadly, this has become a self fulfilling prophesy.  The thing I've found a lot of women (of all races) do not understand about men is that without purpose and encouragement, we will see no point in trying.  We are creatures driven by our egos, and the best way to get us to succeed is to affirm us when have met your expectations, and to challenge us when we fall short.  This is who we are and how we are wired; if you don't like it, feel free to switch teams.

Take a second to think about all the positive affirmations and images of black men that you come across on a daily basis.  They are few and far between.  Our story is not told.  Our triumphs are not celebrated (I hate to bust your bubble ladies, but your man not cheating IS an accomplishment.  These chicks are tossing the cooch around like a frisbee and it's too easy to forget where you are and stick your hand out. If being faithful was easy, everybody would do it).  According to history, the last black man worth anything was Martin Luther King, Jr...and they shot him.  Not exactly the best environment for an ego driven creature to thrive.

Now take into account the damage we do to each other.  Our fathers abandon us.  Our mothers see our fathers in us, and resent us.  Our teachers shortchange us. Our coaches exploit us.  And after all that, we have to grow up and look at the woman we love and say, "I don't know," or "I don't have enough," or "Maybe next time," or "I'm trying as hard as I can," only to hear:

That's not good enough. You're not good enough.

 This is not my story alone; there are others with different titles, characters and endings.  But the result is the same: a shell of what a man should be, watching a world, where queens no longer need kings, go by.  Go through that, and then tell me that my bitterness is unjustified.  The fact is, it's not.  It comes from the frustration that if I have a son,  the only person telling him he rocks could be me.  There's no way toknow if my voice can cut through all the dissenters out there.

As I said before, I agree; black girls rock.  But do black men rock?  The general consensus I feel is that you all out there don't think so.  And maybe right now we don't,

but we could...