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.
Tuesday, March 06, 2007
A Twist of Fate
It's Our Anniversary
CLICK HERE TO LISTEN TO THE EXCERPT
Are Black People More Athletic?
I’m going to go out on a racist limb here and say that black people overall would be able to integrate into most physical activities with more ease and efficiency than white people. Shocking I know but I would think it’s much easier for a Jamaican Bobsled team to navigate the turns of the downhill slalom than it is for the Norwegian Bobsled team to slam dunk on the basketball court. Again, to assert that Black people can ONLY excel in sports is racist. To say that Black people only excel at sports because we are from the ghetto is straight up racist. To deny that our natural rhythm and coordination wouldn’t lend itself naturally to being better athletes . . . well one would have to wonder why anyone would want to deny something so benign.
I remember Surya Bonaly, the Black ice skater that went to the Olympics. The judges disqualified her and gave her very low marks because they said she was "too athletic." It seems her power and strength was intimidating to the judges and her jumps were too high, her moves were too commanding. Let it be noted for all the world, let the message ring down from every hamlet, spread the word across the countryside, the decree had gone out, the Olympic officials have declared the Black person was too athletic.
I'm imagining, if we put the members of the Romanian gymnastics team on a basketball court, a baseball field and a track and field stadium against a group of young ladies from New York that play double dutch, I'm wondering which set of young ladies will fare better at all the sports overall? Which young ladies will have more muscle mass, strength, endurance and ability to master the rudimentary skills of each sport with the most ease? While I'm not so sure that the young ladies from NY would be able to kick the asses of the gymnasts at their own game, I do know they would bring a certain inherent talent to the mats that would manifest itself as rhythmic ability. I know good and god damn well that the gymnasts couldn't touch the sistas at double dutch.
I would go so far as to say that anyone that denies the superior athletic ability of Black people is suffering from some inferiority complex and undue paranoia that Black people are going to crush them with their bigger stronger muscles. That would probably be the case if we weren’t so mentally superior and chose not to mirror the genocidal, colonizing, maraudering, and oppressive behaviors of white people. LOL, just kidding a little.
Saturday, March 03, 2007
The Black Man’s Manifesto for the New Millennium
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
Who hurt you?
One of the questions that I’m asked on a rather regular basis, by men who seemingly want to show empathy and concern for me after I’ve challenged them about their issues, is, “Who hurt you?” You see, women aren’t supposed to speak out about men, we aren’t supposed to question the way things are; we are supposed to cower in terror when we are questioned by men and go running in fear to a position of subservience and compliance any time we are confronted by them. Men are allowed to be angry, to be frustrated, to feel like they are being demonized by the world. If women question and speak out, if we do take issue with the status quo, then quite obviously, some man has to hurt us so terribly in the past as to create this ugly entity known as the “angry Black woman.” That’s supposed to be an insult from a man, the highest possible insult, because it’s meant to imply that I’m not longer desirable to men, that I’m a little too uppity for my own britches, a little too vocal, and that I need to be taken down a peg.
The problem with that is that, I am angry. You damn right I’m angry; I’m the reigning title holder of the Ms. Angry Black Woman. But I wear the title of angry Black woman proudly, and for good mother fucking reason, because with that crown and banner, I get to speak out about issues like patriarchy, sexism, colorism, misogyny and hold a dirty mirror up to men so that can see their ugly reflections and I don’t have to hold my tongue. My anger is a positive outlet. It has allowed me to heal from my past hurts. My anger causes me to fight for the rights of women, to try to heal the chasm of Black relationships that grows deeper and wider with the passing of each tic of the sexist, oppressive clock.
Tito Oliviero hurt me. He raped me one hot summer day, putting his hand on my throat and telling me that he would kill me if I screamed while he was violating me. Apparently, he decided that being friends wasn’t enough for him and that he had a right to my body, without my consent.
Dimas Chardon hurt me. (I think that’s his real name but I’m not sure, I’m certainly not trying to protect him because he’s innocent) He asked me to his house in Connecticut and I politely declined. He decided that since I had rejected him that he could teach me a lesson. He took out a gun, put it on my desk, and held me down with a loaded weapon just inches from my face while he raped me.
There is a man whose name I don’t know. He begged me to come to my apartment, to “just hang out.” It was only a matter of minutes before he we were on the floor, I was fighting with all my might, and was clueless that that was an indication that I didn’t want to have sex with him. It didn’t matter to him if I wanted him or not, he wanted to have sex with me. We fought until I was physically and emotionally drained and then I just gave in. I laid there like I limp, lifeless rag while he had sex with me. I wish I knew his name so I could call him out. I know his face, it’s one that I will never forget. He probably doesn’t know my name, he probably doesn’t even remember me. I was just another hole for him, another piece of ass to affirm his manhood.
Whenever I say that I was raped, I get this huge outpouring of messages, “You are so brave . . . you need to get counseling . . . don’t let the anger consume you.” It’s incomprehensible to people that I can actually talk about being raped without having some sort of emotional breakdown. I’m not ashamed of what happened, I didn’t do anything wrong. I’m not afraid to talk about it, because AGAIN, I didn’t do anything wrong. I can’t do anything to change what happened to me but I sure as hell ain’t gonna pretend it didn’t. The people that need to be ashamed are the men who raped me. They are the ones who did something wrong, they are the criminals. They took something that belonged to me, I’m not going to curl up in a ball and sit in silence to keep them from feeling guilty. None of the men that raped me were thugs or low life’s. There were educated, intelligent, successful Black men. They are the men that CLAIM to be good black men because they make a good salary, drive a nice car. They are men, who, right now, would stare in a woman’s face and swear that they have never raped anyone.
I’ve met countless numbers of women who have tales of being raped, I’ve even encountered a few men who are brave enough to speak up about their molestation and rape. There are even scores of men who say how sorry they are for what happened to me. What I’ve YET to encounter is a man who has admitted to being a rapist. Not one. I’ve never met a man who said to me, “When I was younger, I thought it was my right and I took what didn’t belong to me.” I’ve NEVER met a man who said, “I’m ashamed to say that I didn’t take no for an answer and I violated the most precious thing a woman could give me.” We wonder why Black relationships are failing, we look to blame Black women every chance we get, but let’s put the blame where it belongs, let’s hold the men accountable for their actions. If you want to know the reason why Black relationships are in such peril it’s because so many men are rapists and not being held accountable for it. Black women are being raped and we are sucking it up, suppressing it, internalizing the pain so that Black men can walk around without guilt. Black society breeds rapists. We don’t hold our black boys accountable for their actions, we tell them that in order to be a man, you have to have a lot of women, and we teach them that women are objects to be used and discarded.
There is a man reading this who has raped a woman, more than likely several. In fact, there are many men who are guilty of rape who are seething in anger right now. To you, I say, until you are uncomfortable with your actions, until you are disturbed by your past, until you can speak truth to power, you are diseased in mind, body and soul. You can deny the fact that you stole the innocence of a someone, that you committed an unspeakable crime but that does not absolve you of your acts. And to those who try to silence me with their emotional rape, those who would prefer that I cower in silence, YOU are the ones who have stolen the virtue of women. You are the rapists, the killer of dreams.
I will not be silenced. I will stand up and name my attackers. I will say who hurt me with pride for it is them who should be ashamed.
Now, I ask you ladies, who hurt you?
Can you speak truth to power?
Can you name your attackers?
Know that in order to heal, you don’t have to be ashamed of what happened to you. You are innocent. You must reclaim your strength. Don’t continue to protect these men with your silence. They don’t deserve it. Challenge them to admit to their wrong doings. Name your rapist so that you can free yourself from the pain. So I ask you ladies, with compassion and respect, who hurt you?
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
Colorism
And today, while I'm sure it must eat at one's self-esteem to be challenged as to your "authentic blackness" because of one's light skin, I am not so sure that compares to the constant barrage of messages that tells dark skinned women of color specifically that they are light years away from anything of value or beauty. Being right in the middle, a beautiful shade of cocoa, I can empathize with my light skin sisters who don't wish to have their blackness invalidated by their skin tone, I can also say, as sister to many dark skinned women, that the barrage of psychologically damaging messages that they get on a daily basis FAR outweigh the ones that light skin women get. To truly liberate ourselves from the shackles of slavery, we must first acknowledge that the disparity due to skin color was not of our own making but it, in fact, does paralyze the darker members of our families much more so than the lighter ones. While light skin women today experience objectification and stereotypes whose origins were created in slavery, I think it's a bit extreme to say that their plight in any way compares to the beautiful women whose skin tones today are skin tones are dark and their features thick and full who have no reinforcement of their beauty, who must endure the pain of seeing their fairer skinned sisters being extolled as beautiful while they are left to feel ugly and unwanted.
I would like to see an end to the colorism that was created in slavery by the white man in order to justify his abuse. I would like to heal the wounded psyches of us as descendents of Africans so that we might unite and see our sameness as survivors of a horrific tragedy rather than continue to give privilege to those that were the "beneficiaries" of rape and miscegenation and continue to denigrate those whose blood remains relatively pure.
Friday, February 23, 2007
Cheatin' Men
If men continue to think in terms of sex being the foundation of a relationship, they will cheat. If men don’t work on being better partners in a relationship, cheating is the easy way to make sure that the relationship is going to fail. FAR, far too many men don’t know how to end a relationship in a healthy way, LONG BEFORE it gets to the fighting and the cheating. Rather than man up and say, “Hey, this isn’t working,” or, “we need to work on how this relationship can better suit both our needs,” they cheat. They run to the arms of another woman rather than face the music at home. Rather than try to build something long lasting and permanent with their partner, they sabotage their relationship by bringing another woman, or women, into their lives and betraying the partner at home. It’s like a bad fucking broken record but if Black men were more emotionally mature, they wouldn’t be so apt to cheat because they would be choosing partners based on their insecurities and unresolved parental issues.
Justifying cheating is a pathology in and of itself. It’s one thing to cheat. It’s a whole nutha ballgame to say that it’s not cheating because he was wearing a condom when he was getting head. That’s insanity. That’s taking the objectification of women to such an extreme, that he doesn’t even see women as human beings, just objects to give him pleasure and nothing more. He can’t possibly form a healthy relationship at all, let alone a committed one. It’s unfortunate that our society reinforces to men that cheating is what makes them a man, that it’s their role as men to go out and get as much pussy as they can. And the sad part is that they believe it. They will say that it’s biological, it’s nature, it’s genetic, it’s part of the animal kingdom. Killing your own food is the way of the jungle but I don’t see any men out chopping off a chicken’s head for supper. We are human beings, not animals. We are evolved past animals. We have the ability to feel and reason and speak and emote. We aren’t lead by some rules of the animal kingdom, we are SUPPOSED to be more evolved. We can’t claim to be intelligent, thinking, reasoned human beings and then justify cheating by saying it’s a law of nature. Then you really are nothing more than an animal.
On the day when men stop viewing women as conquests, when they stop trying to find comfort from their hurts with sex, when they face up to the idea that building a strong partnership is a sign of manhood, not fucking anything with a hole, then Black relationships will continue to fail. Until Black women stop coddling cheating men, forgiving them by saying it’s a man’s nature, until they stop tolerating married men and men in relationships coming on to them as some sort of sign of attractiveness, until women stop thinking that once they get a wedding ring on their finger that makes them better than single women and thus, willing to overlook their cheating husbands, the cycle will continue.
AfroerotiK is . . . Showered with Love
Is love something that grows over time or can you experience true and abiding love instantly? Is love all romance and cheesy songs or can love be fostered amidst contention? In a day and time when people look for instant gratification and put their own needs above everyone else's feelings, can true love really grow? These are important questions that must be asked in an effort to redefine the formula for a healthy relationship. There's a fine line between trusting your instincts and making an uninformed choice. Take the AfroerotiK audio journey and experience how scorching hot passion can be born from the right mix of trust and vulnerability.
It takes a while to download and your patience is appreciated.
Click HERE to Listen
AfroerotiK is . . . Ultimate Black Strapon Domme
Warning!!! This is NOT for the faint of heart. It explores hardcore interracial themes and intense sexuality. Listen to the story of a commanding Black Mistress control, use, and manipulate a submissive strapon slut. It's about the exchange of power and the dynamics of psychological domination. Enjoy!
Click Here to Listen
AfroerotiK is . . . Meditative
Close your eyes and slip into a deep meditative state. Allow yourself to enjoy true relaxation and peace as you are guided into a deep, restful state where you can explore sensual freedom. Copyright 2006 AfroerotiK
Click Here to Listen