"Black love is black wealth" - Nikki Giovanni Quite possibly the most pithy and beautiful statement ya'll, and definitely not limited to the Huxtables - no matter how cute the scene to the left is.
But if one were to ask a group of black women from the ages of about 18-30, I'm not sure just how wealthy they would feel in the love department. And although Essence magazine is trying it's damnest to convince sistas that Black men are interested in us (check out the August issue ya'll), many just aren't buying it. As an griot by the name of Jay-Z once said, "We don't believe you, you need more people".
Conversations over the "state of the Black union" aren't limited to Black History Month roundtables or even Tavis Smiley productions. There have been many a late night at Amherst, during my time in London and even on the uptown A train where friends and I rehash the same tired topics about being a single black female. It goes a little like this, "its kind of hard out here for a black girl".
We all know the deal, the numbers are stark and scary - upwards of 70% of black women do not get married, we are the least married racial group in the country, we account for most of the new cases of HIV/AIDS. Besides this, many are fed up with the media depiction of black women as booty- shaking hoochies, or know-it-all judges who dole out homespun wisdom (a la judge Hatchett, et al), or as the warm but round mammy-esque round the way-filet. Then on top of all this during our "Waiting to Exhale" sessions, after enumerating how we are done dirty by the media we turn around and see Black men hugged up with women of different races. Although it is 2007, and one should be able to date and love whomever they choose, the truth is within Black communities inter-racial dating/marriage still subject to intense debate, given history and contemporary rammifications. From a personal perspective, sometimes it hurts to see a young black man with a woman of a different race. Thoughts of, "aren't we good enough" to "race traitor" and "Uncle Tom" dance around in my head - right or wrong (and I know that it is indeed more wrong than right to hold these ideas). But when you go to a school that claims to enroll only the best and brightest, that year after year put out an ugly, sexist and antiquarian "Hot List" with nary a brown face, you get frustrated.
Although the stats may look stark that is no reason to lower expectations, allow oneself to be ran through by men (ahem Superhead), or walked over because he's a "good black man" (or Latino, Asian, or White guy). Sometimes it seems like the only guys hollering at you are posted up on a block from dawn till dust with no job or prospects or real pride. But they are hardly reflective of all the brothers out there. I ain't talking about Rayshawn who be chillin at the bodega, I'm talking about that guy reading the paper on the train.
Just do as Whitney Houston said and "Shoop Shooop"
(further proof that if reparations ever comes, therapy should be included)
