Appropriation. Honestly, I don’t know who to credit for this image, but I don’t own it. Very fitting, though.
So in my post yesterday, I mentioned that it has become apparent to me that I can no longer unleash my petty on my ex (no matter how much the feels and bitterness overcome me). I have to reserve my petty for my blog. But I digress.
As I was reading earlier, I came across this article. It was amusing to me because it slightly echoes my sentiments from last night’s post. I was so tempted to post this article to my Facebook, but I’m not into petty subliminal messages.
We, The Nigerians, Do Not Accept Rachel Dolezal’s New Name | Awesomely Luvvie This is the 4th time I am writing about Rachel Dolezal the Undercover Sista on this site. And each time, I want to track her down and slap her in the face with a stack of paper printed with my words in 50 point font. Rachel Dolezal is the person …
This quote tickled me: “Rachel the Appropriation Aristocrat then had a son and named him Langston Attickus, which has to go down as one of the Blackest names in history. That name is so Black that it comes with a Jazz band. As in, the boy probably sang the Blues before he could walk.”
Okay, I need to stop. No, my ex’s BM isn’t as delusional as Rachel Dolezal (well, I don’t know her, but I give my ex the benefit of the doubt), but this whole concept of a white woman naming her Black son some uber Blackity Black, powerful name kind of mirrors what I ranted about in my previous post about that whole situation.
Appropriating our shit is never cool. No matter who says it’s okay. You don’t get cool points for it — in fact, the Ancestors likely don’t find it amusing.
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