Credit Denied? Run It Again.
Reclaiming My Black Card
RECLAIMING MY BLACK CARD
Nobody gets to tell me how Black I am.
Not white people.
Not Black people.
Not even me.
I grew up thinking my Black Card had to be activated—only to find out it wasn’t a credit card, but a debit.
I had to put Black in to get Black out.
And the kind of Black you put in? That mattered.
Because it either credited or debited your account.
There was a whole system I clearly never got.
Which is why I’m out here looking for old abandoned accounts and any credits I can find.
I feel like I just started getting my credit score up these past few months, trying to get my 40 acres, etc. (Too much, too soon? It felt forced, huh?)
Let me rap at karaoke?
I’m Blackity Black Black.
Ask me about my tattoos?
Transaction declined.
(I’ll have you know Deadpool also has a Dave Matthews Band tattoo, thank you very much!)
WHAT'S THE FUCKING EXCHANGE RATE ON BLACKNESS?
You ever wake up and realize you spent years auditioning for a role you never even wanted?
Was it Charlottesville?
Was it 2020?
Was it the moment I realized whiteness hands out trophies for ‘allyship’ while Black pain stays unpaid labor?
Even my super-accomplished, Black parents have been running the same survival program for decades.
Respectability was never going to keep us safe.
LISTEN—SMALL DICK RAMASWAMY WASN’T WRONG.
We’re taught to value the popular kids and make fun of the ones who don’t quite fit in.
But when you’re a kid with undiagnosed ADHD in a private school for crazy-smart kids, just trying to get by, you don’t realize that the party kid is also hella smart.
Meanwhile, your dumbass can’t afford to hang out on the phone with “friends” all night (in the Gen-X sense, which is exhausting!)
SIDE NOTE (BUT NOT REALLY).
I don’t necessarily think that explains why Americans are retarded—and yes, I said it, it’s accurate, and it stays.
No offense to anyone who gets caught in the crossfire. It’s ok, I’m neurodivergent—same reason I can say the N-word.
Edit:
To clarify, I can say the N-word because I’m Black and NOT because I’m Neurodivergent.
Not like "autism" as a pass to be a Nazi.
Trust me, I don’t feel entitled to drop N-bombs because I have ADHD.
I already cuss like I have Tourette’s (sorry!)
ANYWAY—LONG STORY SHORT?
I assimilated.
I was a badass player in a game I didn’t even know I was playing.
And when I finally figured it out?
I realized the prize was just being allowed to play.
SUUUUUUUUCKS.
HERE’S WHAT I KNOW.
It took losing friends and fucked-up relationships
to learn how to use my voice—
I know. The irony is not lost on me.
"Ummm, your voice is fine. Like, I can’t UN-hear you."
I GET IT.
I’m not just talking about being the loudest.
Feels nice to have something worth saying—and zero fucks left about saying the quiet part out loud.
Cathartic AF.
SO THEN WHY DID I STILL FEEL LIKE AN IMPOSTER?
Why did saying #BlackLivesMatter feel like I was saying it for someone else?
I’m a Black person whose life matters and who clearly sees the systemic racism and social injustices in this country.
I spent years feeling like an ally to my own people.
Bullshit, right?
Though, according to YouTube, that’s apparently just part of the program.
Turns out, “feeling comfortable in your own skin” was never about my weight.
Because my Black felt off at any size.
I had to learn Black history in a way that didn’t feel like homework.
I had to actually engage with it—not just during February.
And once I did?
It clicked—like a conspiracy theory that turned out to be true.
NO WONDER THEY’RE MAD
Our skin?
→ It’s thick.
→ It don’t crack.
→ It looks good in everything (they’ll try to convince you otherwise)
And the best part?
We’re unbothered. – they reeeally fucking hate that.
Also, in case you’re wondering—I’m like this close to solving Tupac’s murder.
RIP.
…JS
WHITE MEDIOCRITY—REBRANDED.
Imagine being mad at US
for thriving under the very constraints
YOU created to hold us back.
And THEN being mad that we’re not as mad about it as you want us to be.
White mediocrity has always run this country.
Now? It’s on display every day like Melissa Gorga.
For the whole fucking world to see.
The superior race will prevail.
And guess what—it ain’t the one getting the rules rewritten just to accommodate their group’s capabilities.
(Doesn’t that make y’all the DEI hires? But what do I know.)
THE 92% ARE OUT OF FUCKS.
Everyone else?
Be better.
UNINTENTIONAL REPARATIONS.
I don’t need 40 acres and a mule.
I want every piece of my identity back, with interest.
I didn’t reclaim my Blackness.
I stole that bitch back. And brought receipts.
I didn’t "find" my history.
I pieced it together from the stories they’re working so hard to destroy.
Every institution that tried to smooth down my edges?
They owe me backpay in rage, confidence, and audacity.
Every uncomfortable conversation I avoided?
Every moment of self-doubt?
Every second I spent wondering if I was "playing a part"?
With interest, motherfucker.
This isn’t about rebranding myself.
This is about undoing what they did.
Bottom line…
I don’t need permission to be Black.
I don’t need validation to be Black.
I don’t need a sign-off to be Black.
This isn’t a transformation.
It’s a repossession.
So if you thought I was loud and unfiltered before, you may want to lean in and listen closely this time.
MY NEW NEGRO ERA, A.K.A. FAFO SEASON.
I don’t need a seat at the table.
I need to channel Teresa Guidice and flip that bitch.
→ That’s right.
→ TWO housewife references.
→ Same cast. #GOAT #ThatBitch
Fuck you for making me feel that way.
Fuck me for ever thinking I had to prove something that was already mine.
Fuck this so-called "meritocracy" that only works when whiteness says so.
I’ve been Black all along.
I’m no stranger to this struggle.
I’m no stranger to this fight.
And I sure as hell am not about to let anybody dictate my existence again.
Black isn’t just the color of my ancestors—It’s the color of my soul.🖤
So if you step to me this year? I hope you’re ready to catch these words and get verbally destroyed.
Welcome to my New Negro Era—it’s a lot like FAFO season.
Y’all are either gonna learn or burn.
Choose wisely.