AfroerotiK

Erotic provocateur, racially-influenced humanist, relentless champion for the oppressed, and facilitator for social change, Scottie Lowe is the brain child, creative genius and the blood, sweat, and tears behind AfroerotiK. Intended to be part academic, part educational, and part sensual, she, yes SHE gave birth to the website to provide people of African descent a place to escape the narrow-mined, stereotypical, limiting and oft-times degrading beliefs that abound about our sexuality. No, not all Black men are driven by lust by white flesh or to create babies and walk away. No, not all Black women are promiscuous welfare queens. And as hard as it may be to believe, no, not all gay Black men are feminine, down low, or HIV positive. Scottie is putting everything on the table to discuss, debate, and dismantle stereotypes in a healthy exchange of ideas. She hopes to provide a more holistic, informed, and enlightened discussion of Black sexuality and dreams of helping couples be more open, honest, and adventurous in their relationships.

Showing posts with label Black identity. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Black identity. Show all posts

Monday, December 19, 2016

Dear White World,





I am a Black woman and I’m EXHAUSTED from dealing with, having to conform to, and being choked by the booted-foot of your arrogant oppression.  I regret to inform you that if you are born on this planet in this millennia and you are white, you are racist.  Period!  Racism isn’t just defined by wearing a sheet and burning a cross and saying that you hate niggers, it’s the system of fallacious beliefs that makes you believe that you have a right to have the last word, that you and people who look like you can determine what’s better for others, what’s the right religion, what’s the best form of government, and that you can conquer, control, and annex any country you want.  Feigning indignation, quoting the one half line you think you know from Martin Luther King, or telling me that I’m racist because I’m calling you out on your bullshit does not and cannot negate that fact.  I will speak my mind and say what I want, when I want, in whatever tone I choose and if it’s something that you don’t like, I invite you to kiss my entire black ass . . . all of it.  I’m not going to cower in the corner when you try to put me in my place; we are not on the plantation any longer. 

I’m more than just the ghetto, sassy, neck-rolling caricature you think a Black woman is.  Yes, I am strong, yes I am powerful, resilient, and proud but I also have fears, insecurities, and I am choked with depression from having to deal with the fallacy of white supremacy every god damn day.  I crave the sensation of being loved by a man who has broken the chains of mental slavery and who knows that his identity is not tied to getting acceptance from anyone who looks like you, someone who knows that he is more than just a big black cock to satisfy your racist sexual fantasies.   I ache seeing the collective unhealthy behaviors of my people, knowing that they are victims of a system of racism that has intentionally disadvantaged them merely because of the color of our skin. 

I’m drained by your “secret” (in plain sight) maniacal obsession with our sexuality because you see us as savages yet you cheer for our slaughter in the streets, you celebrate our deaths in public.  I’m sick and fucking tired of telling you over and over again that your desire to have sex with us does not indicate that you have been absolved of racism, it doesn’t even mean you’ve addressed it.  I despise you telling me that I’m a credit to my race because I’m intelligent and articulate.  If you hadn’t been so intent on under-educating us, we would all be intellectually superior to you.  I use to think that we were all equal, given the same opportunities, but the more I’m exposed to you, the more I clearly see your collective insanity, the more I see how your delusions of grandeur, your need to hold on to the status quo where you are considered superior, have ruined our society, our nation, our collective consciousness.  I no longer believe we are all equal. I see you as inferior.  I see in the same light as a spoiled, bratty child who has to have his way and who throws temper tantrums when they don’t get undue adulation. 

You want to know what will ease my burden?  Stop telling me that all lives matter when you know good and god damn well that you only believe that white lives do.  I don’t want to be like you so you can let that delusional notion go.  I don’t think your blond hair and your blue eyes are more attractive.  I don’t want my skin to be lighter; I don’t want my hair to blow in the wind like a shampoo commercial. I have less than no desire to alter my features to be have a pointy little nose or hideously thin lips.  I will die, I will take my own life before I worship a God that is made in your image. 

I have a big ass, I love my big ass, but that does not mean I’m going to put it on display for you to ogle and objectify me nor does it mean that my self-worth or self-esteem is determined by how tight I can wear my clothing to show it off.    And you’re mother fucking skippy that I’m better in bed than white women because I’m not burdened with having to pretend I’m asexual all the time, I’m not defined by my ability to please a man, and I’m secure in my identity as a Divine BLACK Goddess who does not want or need to compartmentalize my sexuality.  I’m FREE.  I’m not shackled by your standards, morals, or beliefs.

I will not apologize for the dysfunctional behaviors of my race because they are borne of centuries of oppression.  What’s your excuse?   Why is it that your race is more criminal, greedier, more ruthless and sadistic, more drug-addicted, more deviant and perverse than any other?  Because you’ve had too much privilege and entitlement?  Because you’ve been falsely told since you were born that all that is good in the world comes from someone who looks like you? Well, I hate to break it to you.  All that is good in the world came from someone who looked like me and that was stolen by someone who looked like you.  I know, you’ve never been told that so you don’t believe it but it’s not my job to educate you or ease your guilt. 

So, white world, it seems we are at a stalemate.  You want and need me to be a slave on the plantation, afraid of your wrath, silenced by your command, and an object for you to lust after in secret and I refuse to fit in your tiny box, I refuse to be defined by you.  I want you to see my humanity, to acknowledge my differences and respect them; I would love for you to work to divest yourself of the fallacious beliefs that have been ingrained in you.  Something has to give and I can assure you that my will, my integrity, my ability to survive is much stronger than yours.  This, I promise you.