The Black Woman’s Manifesto for the New Millennium

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The Black Man’s Manifesto for the New Millennium

Brought to you by AfroerotiK

I AM a Strong Black man and as such  . . .

• I will carry myself with the grace, dignity and character of a king at all times.

• I will speak to women as human beings, not as potential sex partners, not as someone with less value than myself, not someone I must dominate in order to validate my manhood. 

• I will not plan out how I can get a woman into bed before I even introduce myself. 

• I will not judge a woman’s beauty, worth or value by the length of her hair, the length of her fingernails, the roundness of her behind or the size of her feet, and most importantly, the color of her skin, just as I would not want to be judged by the length of my penis, the size of my wallet, the car I drive, or the amount of money I make.   

• I will make every effort to make sure women know that they are safe when they are in my presence.  I will not touch, grope, or physically intimidate them and I will not make unwanted sexual advances towards them.

• I will NOT strike, restrain, or threaten a woman. 

• I will accept that if a woman says no, she means she’s not interested in me sexually and that is her right.  I will never force a woman to have sex with me.  

• I will ask my women friends, sisters and acquaintances what makes them feel undervalued, unappreciated and objectified and I will listen closely and make efforts to correct those things that I do wrong.

• When a woman tells me something is insensitive, demeaning, or offensive, I will not dismiss it immediately as male bashing.  I will take her critique just as I would expect someone to consider mine. 

• I will find something other than a woman’s looks to compliment her about.  I will make note of her intellect, her personality, her ideas, her imagination, and her accomplishments.

• I will acknowledge that my mother, sister, and daughters are black women, deserving of respect, and I will work to treat ALL Black women as I would have other men treat the women in my life. 

• I will accept responsibility for my wrongdoings, I will not lie in an attempt to get away with my misdeeds, I will apologize when I’ve done something wrong and I will deal with the consequences of my actions by facing them head on.  

• I will not partake in conversations with other men when they are ridiculing women’s looks, bodies, or opinions.

• I will remove the words bitch, ho, trick, chicken head, and all other derogatory names for women from my vocabulary because I recognize them to be sexist and degrading.

• I will not refer to sex with a woman as hitting it, killing it, stabbing it, or anything that has violent connotations nor will it diminish the humanity of a woman by referring to sex with her as getting “it” or getting “some”

• I will not define my manhood by the length of my penis, I will define my manhood as fulfilling promises I keep, in having integrity, in choosing mature solutions to problems and how I can be honest even when it’s difficult.

• I will speak out when I see other men disrespecting women. 

• I will honor my daughters as much as my sons.

• I will not refer to myself as a pimp, a dog, a thug, or a baller because I will not let racist stereotypes define me.

• I will learn how to communicate my feelings rather than deny I have them or trying to suppress them with sex, drugs, adrenaline, or alcohol. 

Copyright 2007 Scottie Lowe

Made for Me

If I could have a man created specifically for me, with all the things I desire in a partner, I would ask for a man who took my breath away every time I saw him.  He would be tall and brown and beautiful and ooze integrity from every pore in his being.  He would be wise beyond his years and his words would be carefully chosen each time he spoke and they would flow like honey from his lips. 

If I could have a man created specifically for me, he would consider Africa his cultural and spiritual homeland and be willing to shed the belief systems that we have incorporated during slavery for a more holistic way of living.  He would be driven to fulfill his purpose in life and single minded in his dedication to a cause that is righteous and good.  He will meditate every morning and he would pray with me every night.  Of course, he will be able to cry on my shoulder and ask for support because he has come face to face with the demons that have kept men from evolving emotionally and he will have a commitment to redefining himself anew.  He will listen first and then speak, he will not internalize every comment as criticism, and he will apologize when he’s done something wrong. 

My perfect man will live off of a plant based diet, practice a spiritual system other than Christianity, and he will be openly bisexual.  He will have been in an intimate relationship with another man and loved him.  He will be comfortable with his sexuality not being tied to ridiculous roles that define him.  He will be a patient and attentive lover who will be willing to please and pamper me with the knowledge that I will only return the favor tenfold. 

He would never be intimidated by my intellect, potential, or my activism and he would support me and my efforts with words of encouragement and praise.  He would put other’s needs above his wants and we will travel the world in search of truth.  He will know the first and third verses of the Negro National Anthem and he will stand up when it’s being sung without being told.  He will never use the word nigger, nigga, or any phonetic or derivative spelling thereof out of reverence and respect for our ancestors. 

I want my perfect man to be equal parts creative and intelligent, equal parts spiritual and carnal.  Make him open-minded, tolerant of people’s differences, and as far left as he can get politically without falling off the scale and ending up in jail at Guantanmo Bay.  I want him to be an avid reader and lover of jazz, art, real theater (not Medea plays) and capable of articulating why the current brand of hip-hop is misogynist and offensive to not only women but to men as well. 

His commitment to our relationship will be beyond compare.  My perfect man would prioritize and sacrifice in order for us to continually grow.  Ahh, my perfect lover would hold me in his arms at night and kiss my forehead and whisper, “I love you, Scottie” and make me feel as if everything was right with the world. 

I’ve Got a Secret

I’m going to let y’all in on a little secret.  I’ve been keeping it for a long time. Now, when y’all hear my secret, the sistas will hiss and boo and think of me as a weak traitor, the brothas will say, “I told you so, I knew it all along.” I’ve wrestled with this secret for a long time, feeling guilt and shame for harboring these thoughts. Living my life in the closet, afraid to express myself, living a lie. In public, I deny my true feelings, crossing the line, extolling the sentiments exactly the opposite of how I feel. What is my secret? My badge of shame. Come close. Don’t tell a soul. I need a man. There I said it. It’s out in the open. I need a man.  

I grew up being told that a woman needed a man for survival, to be the provider and protector. The man was the breadwinner and the woman stood behind him. I was told that men could lie and cheat and treat you like shit and as long as they paid the bills and eventually came home, that’s all you could expect. Women were never supposed to argue or disagree with a man. “Oh, you are so funny.” “Stop, don’t say that,” in a coy and docile manner.  You had to have a man in your life. Even if that man was somebody else’s. A borrowed man was better than no man at all. I was raised to believe that all a woman could hope for was to play stupid, never have an opinion and to do whatever it takes to make a man happy. Which included spreading your legs, cooking, cleaning and being passive.  My momma never said outright, ”You have to have a man to make you complete,” but actions speak louder than words. There was never a day when she didn’t have someone’s husband calling her. She would fix them gourmet meals and offer them her dysfunctional mind and sexual body. And of course they took it and went home to their wives, bellies full and balls empty, egos enormous.   

I grew up knowing deep inside that there was something wrong with this ideal. I knew I didn’t need a man like that, in that way.  I’ll admit. I stumbled once or twice, forgot the truth as I like to put it. I’ve been known to put a man’s feelings above my own.  But then I got strong. I’ve been by myself for almost 14 years now. I wish I could say 14 long, hard years, but I don’t want to use those words to describe anything in my life over the last decade. I’ve decided I don’t want no lying, cheating, unemployed, good for nothing, game playing, self-centered, immature, passive aggressive, dick slinging man in my life (or any combination thereof). I have avoided relationships with men whose egos were grandiose and intellects miniscule. I chose not to get involved with men who have had other lovers or insincere motives. I’ve had sex more than a few times, maintenance dates, yes. But I’ve not had a man in my life.  I need a man.  I don’t need a man to pay my bills or rescue me. I don’t need a man to make me feel attractive or make me feel complete. I don’t need a man to fuck me because I’ve become quite proficient at that my damn self.

What I need is someone to be there for me when times are hard. I need a man to give me unconditional love and support. I need the comfort that comes from laying my head on that strong, secure shoulder when my head is weary. I need a man, a lover, a friend, and a partner. I need a relationship where I can me encouraged to grow as an individual and be a member of a team. I need a man to share my secrets with and my dreams. I need a man that will not make me feel bad about my fears and shortcomings.   Should I be able to fill up this void from within myself? Yes, and find the love that I so desperately need inside myself. But I can't. I should be able to find support from my family and friends, but it ain’t the same. I go to bed at night alone. There is emptiness, a void, a painful abyss. It is physical, it hurts. I don’t have human contact.

I hear sistas saying that they don’t need a man but I sure as hell do. And tell me this, if men were so damned unnecessary, why is it that successful sistas who have got a man are not trying to give them away. All these women out here talking about I don’t need a man. I tell you what I don’t need. I don’t need panty liners with wings.  I don’t need low fat chocolate ice cream. I don’t need 36 pairs of shoes. Seems like to me, if men were so damned unnecessary, there would be a lot more hairy-legged lesbians around.  

I need a man who has dealt with his issues and is ready for a mature adult relationship. I need man who has outgrown sticking his dick in anything without regard for pregnancy, disease and hurting someone’s feelings. I don’t need a man who is trying to get into my panties three minutes after meeting me. What I need is a strong, African-centered, evolved, emotionally mature man.  Whew, my secret is out. I feel better! It’s a tremendous burden off my shoulders. If there are others like me out there, stand up and be counted. I NEED A MAN!