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This white woman said to me that the late recording artist Prince is “her boy.” I said “please no, you don’t understand the implications of that phrase.” She said “no no no, I mean like, he’s my BOYYYYYYYY.”
I explained to her that when Black Americans call each other “boy” and “girl” that it is essentially a reclaimed slur. That it means, in some sense “fellow infantilized oppressed person.” That the entire reason it came into her lexicon was as a diet n-slur.
She was shook.
She was shook.
I can’t stop thinking about how irresistibly attractive nB folks find using Black lexical items and yet how willfully ignorant they appear to be about the role of Blackness in defining their meaning
Its exhausting to have these conversations, to explain to someone I know means me no harm why nonetheless they are causing it. I’m still crumbgushingly grateful for the ones who are willing to listen and adapt how they talk to me for the sake of my Black ass comfort
On other days I just straight up resent the hell out of it. The entitlement that it represents, the space that it takes up, the time energy and spoons that I wish I was immune to losing in such conversations
No lie it’s like seeing people wearing leather made out of human skin and being like “um excuse me idk where you got that but please maybe don’t wear it,” and risking being attacked for policing people’s perfectly innocent fashion choices every time
