I wish we would stop pretending that we love Breonna Taylor
I wish we would stop pretending that we love Breonna Taylor.
You do not love Breonna. You would not have loved her when she was alive.
You would not have loved her because she was too fat. Because she had a facial piercing. Because her skin wasn’t light enough. Because she had a perm. Because of that one time she showed up late for work. Because of that one time she smelled like weed. Because she talked too loud. Because she clapped her hands and threw her head back and cackled when she laughed. Because she wasn’t married. Because she was laid up with some dude. Because she dated the wrong kind of dude. Because she didn’t have kids. Because she worked a regular job. Because she lived in a black neighborhood. Because she had a black-sounding name. Because she ate pork. Because she didn’t go to church every Sunday. Because she watched BET. Because she went too long between pedicures. Because she didn’t get a university degree. Because she ‘talked black’. Because she never traveled abroad. Because she listened to ratchet music. Because she had a tattoo. Because...
You do not love Black women.
Because you only love or like Black women when they are good.
When their edges lay down just right. When they talk cute, or look cute or act cute. When they don’t have opinions or make too much sound. When their bodies are shaped in the way you find most pleasing. When they dance for you. Or make you laugh. Or act sassy without seriousness. Or serve as your meme, or your hashtag or your poster child.
And if you only like something or someone when they are ‘good’, you do not actually like that someone or something.
So stop pretending that you love Breonna. Or that you cry for Breonna. Or that you like Breonna.
Or that you like me.
Hell, you only like me when I do something cute or entertaining. You don’t like me when I just wake up everyday and go about my business of minding my business. No. You don’t. Because if you did, you wouldn’t tell me, ‘smile’, ‘make friends’, ‘stop being so extra’, ‘you gotta...’, ‘you know what you need to...’ ‘why you always gotta..?’ ‘Ain’t nobody gonna want...’
You would simply see me going about my business of minding my business, and you would smile and nod, or smile and wave, or smile and say,
‘Hey, girl. It’s good to see you. I’m glad you’re here.’
And i would say:
‘Hey, there. It’s good to be seen. I’m glad that I’m here.’
But it’s not good. And I ain’t glad.
So. Let’s just stop pretending.
Kisha Solomon is an Atlanta-based writer, knowledge worker and serial expat. She is also the founder of The Good Woman School. When she’s not writing, working or travelling, you can find her in deep conversation with herself or her four-legged familiar, Taurus the Cat. www.kishasolomon.com
