I went to a drumpf rally. You’re mostly not
surprised by this because well, you probably follow me on some kind of social
media, so you already know. You were witness to my posts.
Had I returned from another
trip courtesy of Delta – Don’t Give A Damn About My Life Or Schedule –
Airlines, and told you, Hey, while I was in
Chicago, I went to a donald drumpf rally, you would have replied, Bish, whet?…because, that’s the accurate
and most appropriate response.
Before he became this thing we
warn our children about at night while they say their prayers, he was never
someone of interest to me. I mean, like never. Like, when people talk about
ridiculously rich people I think about the Chinese Government, Wine Salesmen,
and natural resources from Africa. I never think about that dude. Because,
like, why?
Anyway, my only friend in
Chicago told me that he was going to the drumpf rally. And I really wanted to
see that friend, so one Evenbrite *that nobody checked at the entrance later* I was
there – without him because he hadn’t made it to the venue yet and I was only a
mile away.
Walking up to the UIC Pavilion
was the easy part. The sun was still out. Traffic was moving normally – for
what I assume about downtown Chicago. And for the most part, the fact that one
of the vilest creatures that Hell ever made was planning to incite the worst in
the poorly educated
on a college campus, was just a couple hours away – people seemed okay. In good
spirits. Selling their wares without dispute. Taking line selfies.
It was only then I realized I
was there. At a drumpf rally. All. By. Myself.
The last time I was this
scared I got a call about my Daddie being in the hospital. I felt real, palpable
fear for my existence. I never want to know that again.
I tucked my fear way and
conjured up some #BlackGirlMagic. Which was timely because a group
of black girls (undergraduates
from UIC)
were in line. We made eye contact. I smiled. One approached and inquired *very* hesitantly,
Are
you a drumpf supporter? To which I casually responded, Hell to every naw, individually and collectively.
I was a lone wolf no longer. I
had a pack. And my pack was the ish, bro. The. Ish. As we made our way through
the lines, one young lady commented, Like how is my tuition paying for a building that this man
is speaking in? Not only just my tuition, but my city too. #QuestionsThatNeedAnswers
Another stopped at a table of drumpf paraphernalia and curiously asked, So, what does ‘Make-America-Great-Again’ mean? Of course, of all the inquiries, no intelligible answer was given. Each time though, she engaged, listened without interruption, and invited discourse. Each time though, she left without a clear understanding of this ‘greatness’ drumpf is purporting to provide should he win. Unless that “bomb the hell out of ISIS” button was what he meant. *shrugs*
Entering was easy. Too easy.
Easy like, I had a ticket, but not a soul who works there knows it – because
nobody asked to see it. Not the event staff. Not the police. Not even the
Secret Service dude that felt me up. I swear that look in his eye before I
approached was like, Yeah, you next…gimme dat @$$... There
is no feeling like the victimization that plays in your mind, knowing that some
version of it is about to happen, and really, there is nothing you can do about
it to change it. I was hella nervous. It wasn’t so much that he violated my
lady parts (he
didn’t),
but the idea that the purpose for his gloved hands touching me is for the
protection of the spawn of anti-christ. That somehow, the person that’s
speaking here today is so important, so worthy of protection, that there might
be something wrong with me, so I must be checked.
Who checks him? Who protects
me from him? What damage can I do with a bag of snacks?
These beautiful black children
(after
throwing shade about my snacks) led me
to the floor. You know, the place, where people gather around a stage, where
the person on the program speaks. Orange wristbands and watchful eyes, we
joined the crowd. In the eye of the storm. At the furthest point away from
every exit. In a sea of hate. Drowning.
…and like their shade
suggested, I went into Mom-Mode. Because this is war, and my babies are going
to make it out alive. Look at all the hateful faces at our blackness. Like they
legitimately were ready to pop off on us on site. Waiting for someone to do
something so they can act up…like…when one of the kids attempted to join the
rest of the wolfpack and navigate the crowd. Apparently, she “pushed” someone
because people who are super close to each other in a crowd have sooooo much
space to get around the people in said crowd.
I told her that she needed to
step back next to me and wait. That her presence and attempt to join the
melanin in the middle of the group would enrage the people around her and that
would not be the best thing to do right now.
...my people though. #AboutThatLife #MakingMoralDecisions |
I’m never having kids. Ever.
Like what are you parents telling your children? I need answers! Because I sure
as ish didn’t know what to say to her. How do I help her in her righteous
social action and save her life at the same damn time? Those people were just
waiting, impatiently, for one of them to say something, do something, hell, be
more themselves so they could get it started. I had nothing for her.
Enter deep, dark, depression.
More people began to filter
in. Our safety continued to decrease. Mostly because we got separated. Between
the reporters, crazed costumed drumpf’ers, and speckles of blackness, I lost my
pack. I took a seat in the stands. I figured I would watch it all happen,
position myself to record as much as possible, and safely wait for my friend
because this was his idea in the first darn place!
Drumpf supporters are poorly
worded sound bites of hatred. Nothing was coherent about their cheers or their conversations
with each other. Make Healthcare Great Again!
Ma’am, did you know that most people with preexisting health conditions could
not get health coverage prior to the Affordable Health Care Act? Was there
something else that was great about healthcare? Because that part, all by
itself, is really shitty.
No response.
*man standing silently before
the speech (that didn’t happen) was supposed to start* He
stood in the stands, off from the stage, holding a torn drumpf sign in his
hands. Being unapologetically black and living with Melissa Harris Perry in that f**kless space
where we all aspire to rent or own homes. #MyAgentIsLookingForADuplexAsWeBlog
Get him
out of here! He’s causing a disruption! Look at him! He’s trash!!!
But what did he say to you?
*crickets* then make
america great again
cheers.
What did I learn?
Some of us don't love us too. |
♫♪ my
country, tis of thee, hates the ish outta me ♪♫ There just isn’t
anything else to it. I am convinced. I am now more persuaded than I have ever
been, that it is indeed the best in us, the magic in us black folks that have
caused this – no our worst. The brutalization of people because they think
differently at a political rally is contrary to the amendments those folks
proudly stand for – but somehow I’m an okay exception? There were people there
who really would not have given a broken, beat up, and busted f*ck if I had
made it home alive. Like, how is it possible to share a national identity with
people like that?
Why in the hell am I spending
my time developing your children, when you don’t even extend to me the common
courtesy of an excuse me?
Why, as tax payers, as
citizens, as Americans (which
wasn’t by choice, but, well, amurikkka), do we allow this to happen?
It’s often the disposition that this is politics and we must conform to its
structure. But if it’s meant to serve me and it doesn’t, why in the world and I
conforming to it? We should have taken some Miss
Sophia like advice and burned that building down #WorryAboutHeavenLater. But
we did the next best thing. #ShutItDown
I don’t work for
politicians. Politicians work for me. And it’s high time I put them to work. Or
drag them like Congressman Matt Cartwright did the
governor of Michigan. This
is absurd in the most asinine ways. Jelani Cobb said, which I believe in my entire being, from
ovaries to overbite, that free speech stops being free at the moment it limits
my freedom:
These
are not abstractions. And this is where the arguments about the freedom of
speech become most tone deaf. The freedom to offend the powerful is not
equivalent to the freedom to bully the relatively disempowered. The
enlightenment principles that undergird free speech also prescribed that the
natural limits of one’s liberty lie at the precise point at which it begins to
impose upon the liberty of another. #JelaniCobb
Who
is defending that? Who is hell bent on bombing the ish out of people who
intrude on my liberty? Where is the button for that?
I had a conversation with a
friend about that young woman’s first line of questioning. About why colleges
and universities hosts events like this. Events we know are counterintuitive to
the mission, vision, and strategic goals of our institutions. I mean, where, like
WHERE is anything drumpf says located in our institutional documents? He wants
to deport undocumented persons. Our schools PROVIDE SERVICES for undocumented
students. Sure though, politics, policy, pretending to adhere to some protocol
that cannot be changed, right? #UselessPandering
Heavy the head that knows
where the University President’s Office key is located. Because I imagine if it were me, I
probably would have had an answer for that beautiful black girl. Your tuition dollars aren’t funding this. Because it
ain’t happening here. Swerve, drumpf. Swerve.
His speech ain’t free. It
damages the very fabric of everything all of these people at the rally claim they
believe. Though at the time the Constitution was written, it wasn’t completely
for me, some revisions have been made. There are protections in there for the 1st
3/5ths of me and the other 2/5ths. And he’s not defending it. He’s damaging it.
And when we host him, we defend him.
We all come to a hill that we
die on. This is mine. It's not just mine either. It
should be yours. If John Oliver or his chrome
extension doesn't convince you, I am not sure there is an argument anyone could
make.
Nothing was free about this.
We all paid a price in Chicago.
Our Humanity.
---------------------------------------------------------------------
Someone posted something the
other day about black people attending drumpf rallies. Something to the effect
of, for, why? Like, nobody wants you
there…so what’s the purpose of attending?
Uh, duh.
Here is a list of all the places
I wouldn’t go because people didn’t want me there:
1. Almost every damn where I’ve ever been. In life. Ever.
Bye. Miss me with that fake
righteousness. You don’t get to take the decision from me. If I want to witness
the present day incarnation of the violence my ancestors experienced so that I
might have a choice, and disrupt it by making them uncomfortable then – present
and accounted for. My time at UCLA helped me practice being in exactly the
spaces you think I shouldn’t be in because, eff you.
Enter – drumpf rally.
Just like I don’t deserve God’s
grace and I get it anyway, I don’t deserve the slings and arrows of outrageous misfortune
I received in that Pavilion – but I made people real anxious
and will post pictures on facebook because, Shaun
King will find you. #HeIsConnectedLikeTheNSA
#OnlyBetter
I’m so disheartened by all of
this. So very sad. Was this the better that was promised to me? Why is everyone
so unwilling to do something about this man? We’ve clearly went way too far.
Why won’t we just stop it? Why are we okay with this kind of hate?
We are becoming them.
All of us.
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