attack on the black woman

nothing like seeing ppl on Twitter calling Z and Day “ghetto” & saying they hope Zakiyah “drops dead soon” lmao like I didn’t see anyone saying shit that intense about Bronte for the way she spoke about James, or even Nicole and Corey for doing the same shit Z and Day did, but it’s way easier to attack a black woman 20x more for a much lesser charge, right?

"I've never met an angrier group of people. Like black women are angry just in general. Angry all the time."-D.L Hughley's attack on black women.

Here we go again…

Another hateful attack on the black woman. Like we don’t face this foolishness on a daily basis.

Okay, yeah its a comedians job to make people laugh…to make light of situations for a chuckle or two…but when you cross a certain line, its a WRAP.

During an interview with NPR’s Michelle Martin last week to promote his new book and upcoming comedy special, Mr. Hughley was asked about his views on women, more specifically black women. And that’s when the ^^ above quote was said. 

His full quote reads:

“Well, in her ability to kind of tolerate my– it’s her ability to tolerate me, A) and B) I’ve never met an angrier group of people. Like black women are angry in general. Angry all the time. My assessment, out of, just in my judgment, you either are in charge or they’re in charge, so there’s no kind of day that you get to rest”

As a black woman I take offense to his ignorant commentary on angry black women. Similar to a quote I reblogged sometime this week–the biggest misconception is that black women are angry for no reason! Trust & believe Mr. Hughley and others…there are reasons people cannot even fathom to think or understand! 

I’ve always held the notion that black men were the only ones that knew and understood the plight of the black women. I mean we may not be dealing and fighting the same injustices, but we were both fighting the hard battle together. 

It’s ignorant comments like this and those who think along these lines that just sadden me.

As an Indian woman I have witnessed the various forms of antiblackness that manifest in the broader Asian community over the years. I myself have to do better and so do Asian people in general. 

  • Asians in general blaming the quota on Asian admission into universities and in the workplace on affirmative action. 
  • Asians saying things like “where’s the Asian pride month?” during Black History Month, even though an APIA month already exist. 
  • Asians derailing the conversation when black people are speaking about media representation by saying “what about Asians?”. 
  • The Desi backlash against Azealia Banks is pretty telling as it is: they were perfectly happy when her twitter account was suspended but tend to be silent about the fact that Neo-Nazis and rape apologists on twitter still have their accounts. A bunch of cis, conventionally attractive, mostly North Indian and Pakistani Westerners coming together to attack a dark-skinned, queer black woman is the be-all end-all form of “activism” for these people, who also neglect to do anything for black Desis. 
  • Antiblackness in East Asia, South Asia, and the Gulf States takes on many forms. Saudi Arabia discriminates against black migrant workers and essentially forces them into very low-paying labor. India and Pakistan are notorious for xenophobic, antiblack ways of economically disenfranchising black desis. No amount of “they don’t identify as black, they identify with their nationality” discourse will change that because they are both black and Desi, and trying to say otherwise is just revealing your own antiblackness. 
  • The East-Asian community defending Peter Liang is yet another example. Asian cops are complicit in police brutality. To defend him is beyond inappropriate - so what if he’s also Asian? He’s responsible for antiblack crimes and brutality. He is part of an oppressive power structure. Instead of defending him, we should be working to dismantle the antiblackness in our own communities. 
  • So much of the discourse in Asian tumblr on here neglects to address the antiblackness in our communities, which is then directly responsible for things like Asian cops killing black people. Our antiblackness kills. When you support celebrities like M.I.A, who has thrown black girls under the bus and said that black celebrities care “more” about Black Lives Matter than Syrian and Iraqi refugees, which is 1) wrong and 2) really gross to say,. you support antiblackness as a power structure. 

We all as Asian people and individuals need to do better. We let our fathers and uncles make antiblack jokes at dinner parties. We let our mothers and aunties tell us to “stay away” from black people. We let our friends appropriate from black culture and drop the n-word. We casually use antiblack language in our mother tongues. We let our activists, scholars, and artists play oppression olympics. We allow our communities to perpetuate colorist politics. We let our families tell us not to befriend black people or become romantically involved with them. We let our friends fetishize and hypersexualize black people. Which is cruel and heinous behavior, especially given that black people have always been in solidarity with us. They have always supported us, rallied for us, provided us with emotional labor and love, made room for us, and protested on our behalf. We have never done the same for them. We selfishly take and take from black people in the name of solidarity while at the same time preaching our own antiblack rhetoric in a hypocritical, selfish manner. 

I’ve repeatedly stated this but there’s really no point to being anti-racist if you’re antiblack. You can’t dismantle white supremacy without destroying antiblackness globally. I’d like if we steered away the conversation from cultural appropriation and media representation to actually focusing our efforts and resources on supporting black people, truly being in solidarity with them, shutting up and listening when necessary, actively combating our internalized antiblackness and the antiblackness we witness in our families and communities, and providing emotional labor and love to black people. 

leslie j

man i just went on twitter and saw some of the things that people were tweeting at her and while she got support, she also got so much unnecessary hate. i felt so sick just reading some of the things people have said about her. like no offense but white cishet men are fucking evil thats all i can say. like she’s just a lady in a movie. seriously these MRAs are fucking crying and attacking a black woman just cuz, what, they don’t like the movie? jesus fucking christ can u be more of a little bitch? they’re all little whiny fucking bitches i swear. i hope leslie continues shining and doing her thing, but honestly she shouldn’t have to go through this, and twitter is being obtuse about it too. 

Arm prosthetic pt. 2

2 / 2

Words: 2046

A/N: This is the last part of this fic. I hope you enjoyed it! I might write an epilogue but I can’t promise.


Almost four in the morning. Fareeha had a nightmare of being left behind by her beloved mother so many years ago. She sat up and stared out through the open window. The sky was clear, countless stars shined. Some shined even brighter than the other or the future from this ridiculous situation. Omnic attack there, omnic attack here. When would this hell end?

The black hair woman’s mind went through these kind of question when she heard someones were talking in front of her room. Their talking was interrupted by the monitor which showed how Fareeha’s heart beat and how she took her breath. She wasn’t able to hear all the words clearly but she managed to hear them roughly.

“Have you heard that?” asked a man his colleague with deep and knurled voice. Maybe he was Dannish because of hs accent.

“I’ve seen and heard everything since I was transported from Lyon, France. What is it now?” the other doctor was a woman with literal French accent. What did she know?

“I heard that dr. Ziegler has a crush on this Soldier 76.”

“You mean she has a crush on the saviour of Spain?” questioned the man as she put money into the coffee machine and pressed the button.

The machine sounded like it was about to blow up. Fareeha couldn’t hear anything, even the information she needed. After a minute the machine started to make coffee again as the old man put his coins into that. It was horrible. Listening to this at four in the fucking morning. But they needed coffee to make sure they would not fall asleep during operation or physical examination.

Before they headed their offices or to outside Fareeha caught something useful. The woman sighed loudly.

“But I’m sure she hasn’t said this yet, after all I completely see her falling in love with someone else.” she remarked to the old man.

The Dannish doctor maybe was in shock. They stopped talking and walked away from the machine.

Silence followed. The only sound Fareeha heard was her monitor.

Oh, so this is it, she thought. She wondered who was the lucky person. Maybe somebody else but not her. Even Jack would be proud because he got a wonderful woman.


Fareeha had had chrush on her since at the first sight! It was a love at the first sight. That sight when their eyes met, the hopeless and the hopeful, the warm ones with the cool ones. Man, Fareeha would never forget that one glance of hers. Curiousity, understanding with a little worry in Angela’s.

Why was she worried? About the first impression? Maybe she was scared?

Fareeha hadn’t known this since they met. She always wanted to ask about it but when they had the opportunity someone always distracted or something. One of the most embarrassing distraction where they had a great time at a pub, drinking coctails, wine, shots or beer, but there was two problems. The first one was 76, he was in the pub as well being with his friends. The other was Angela couldn’t handle that much alcohol as Fareeha, so she got drunk. She was speaking about everything, everyone, even in German.

The Egyptian, middle-aged woman didn’t know what to say or to do with the Swiss doctor until she mentioned that one problem she had noticed. Angela was way too drunk to think properly and she started talking about Jack, about how awesome he was, how handsome for his age, and how she could marry him. Not even close to the subject Fareeha wanted to talk about.

When Angela fell asleep, Fareeha took her home in the middle of the night, fighting her tears back. On that night she realized she had feelings for that woman who was five years older than she was. Her heart just broke.

She had gotten distant from her since the pub night. Fareeha hadn’t spoken to her until now.

“You got up early, didn’t you?” A tender voice was spoken up in the doorway, the lady was leaning to it. Angelic smile on her face but her eyes reflected tiredness.

“I had a nightmare.” Fareeha responded dryly to the most beautiful woman in the world.

Angela’s smile diappeared, walked toward to the bed and sat down on the edge. Angela’s soft hand touched Fareeha’s rough one. She sighed. “I know you’re upset about the past, but she was brave and fearless. She’d be proud of you. And I kno-”

“You know nothing why am I sad or distant.”

“Then tell me what is it!” Angela shouted and a teardrop rolled down on her cheek. “I’m fed up with your stupid game, Pharah.” she cried. Cried because she was exhausted and angry.

Everone called her Pharah, except Mercy, a.k.a Angela. She always called her by her real name or she gave her some nickname. Why didn’t she do it as well?

“Do you remember when we went out for a drink?” Fareeha asked quietly.

Angela nodded.

“You were drunk. And you started to talk about your former partner. Like, he was so handsome and nice and why he had to die.” She shook her head. “I still have that one problem or should I say that is just a simple question.” She bit her lower lip.

Angela looked at her in questioningly. She waited as long as she wanted to take. She would wait until the sun set down. But their time had price. The last and painful operation was coming.

Angela had spoken up before Fareeha could. “I remember what I said back then, and I’m truly sorry about that. I know what you asked but I can’t answer that why I looked at you with such a worrying expression.” She wiped off her tears. “Until now. I was worried about you. How would you react if you find out your mother disappearance.”

“So you knew that…” Fareeha looked away from Angela. “Why didn’t you warned me about my mother? Why have you been hiding this fact? Just why?!” Fareeha shouted at Angela, turned her head back.

“First of all,” Angela looked hard into the young woman’s eyes, “do not yell at me, I’m not in the right mood to start fighting with you. I’m tired and I have to be calm to attach your prosthetic succesfully. Second, I’ve not known that before Ana told me. She wanted you to be safe from the harm you could cause in yourself.” The blonde woman cupped her friend’s face. “And I did it well. You haven’t done anything stupid yet.” Angela put her forhead on Fareeha’s.

Fareeha looked into those ice cold eyes. They told Fareeha there was no need to worry.

“And I - “

“And you what?!” Fareeha was pissed off. “You love heartbreak every person you met?”

“No! Of course not! I just love y- “

“The room is ready, doctor!” Said an assistant in the doorway. They had already worn a mask and a pair of gloves.

The two women were still in position. Fareeha felt her head heaten up by this unexpected turn. She still looked into those eyes but in embarrasment. Angela’s head was deep red. The younger woman could see her doctor’s whole body was in red scheme. It made her laugh a bit just on the inside.

The assistant froze. They didn’t know what to do or say. They just left the room without any comment.

Silence again, just the monitor’s sound.

The sun had already risen up. Its shine shone through the window, light up the room. Everything was in yellow and orange. Outside the streetlamps shut down their lights, gave the sun’s room.

The adults hadn’t been moving since the interuption. Their no-talking-to-her was a pain in this time. Deafening slince was the worst.

Fareeha held her friend’s hands and took them off of her face. She looked at the monitor which showed her heart rating was as high as a bird in the sky. She blushed.

“Uh, weren’t they told you the op room is ready?” She told to the doctor in silent and shaky voice.

The blonde hadn’t said anything until she realized she was blushing hard enough someine could call her she had a fever and her hands were shaking. Angela took deep breaths before she could say anything. “Ah, yes, they were! So, are you ready?” asked.

“Yes!” Fareeha said in Arabic and saluted to the doctor.

Angela laughed awkwardly as she stood up and prepared her friend.

The only sound they were hearing the pain of scream. It was so loud even they stuffed Fareeha’s mouth with something - it didn’t work. She shrieked, grasped a nurse hand, her body twitched every time she felt sudden pain. The morphine-based drug dose they injected wasn’t enough. At least, Angela thought it.

They had been there almost for four hours but it felt like it was even more than that. This unending operation, not fading shrills and the heat was bothering too - it didn’t help wipe off the sweat in every minutes the doctors requested.

“Hold on, Fareeha! Just one more push and you’re free.” Angela informed the screaming patient.

As she said it one of the other doctor did it. They pushed the last piece of the prosthetic’s base. It was on Fareeha’s left shoulder, it took whole, covered the whole shoulder in steel. Fareeha had yelled once again before she passed out, her heart rating dropped and her breath slowed down.

All the people in the room tried to bring her back with more or less chance. Fareeha felt numb all over her body, not knowing her life was in danger. All she could see was her body outside and the others trying. It scared her but it didn’t last one minute and she was in her body again - feeling the pain.

The group of doctors and nurses were busy to hold Fareeha in life. They brought in the arm, connected all the cords, which served as nerves, and screwed it to its places.

“May I offer you to move your left little finger?” Asked Angela, worrying if they put the arm on to its right place.

Fareeha groaned in pain, shut her eyes. She tried to move her pinkie finger but it refused to move. She went once again, collected all her mental strenght to move it. The little finger managed to move a little bit.

Everyone relieved. Two nurses stayed to put an end to its madness the rest of them left, even doctors who helped Angela. They injected pain killer and other important vaccines.

Fareeha was tired. She just lied there. Beside tiredness she felt sleepy. It exhausted her. She murmured if it was okay went to sleep and then she was in deep sleep.

Angela stroked the black hair. It was nice and soft. She wondered what kind of shampoo or balm did she use. Or did she use both? If yes, then what order did she use them.

She couldn’t help herself it distracted from the actual work. The nurses didn’t bat an eye for them just making their duty to clean up. Put away the already cleaned gadgets and push Fareeha back to her room. Angela followed them.

When the two nurses had left, Angela stayed and sat down on a stool next to Fareeha’s bed. As she watched her sleeping, her head got heavier. She let herself falling onto the bed edge and fell asleep of weariness.

“I love you, Schatz.” She murmured in her sleep.

Fareeha somehow could hear that and she started to smile. Reached out to her friend’s hand and grabbed it.

They slept like this until someones woke them up and these strangers were their firends, gasping and ooh-ing at them. They made fun of the two women, like, how cutie pie they were, or how they acted like a married couple.

Angela got up and chased them away with anger. She had enough of them being such a child.

Some of them stayed and talked to Fareeha, who was glad they weren’t stupid. Those friends brought her flowers and food from her favourite place. After half hour later they left her alone to recover in no time.

anonymous asked:

Did you see Cardi B's post defending Leslie? It's on her IG and I was so happy!

Wow, she did! I’m happy to hear that. I look at her in a new light now. That’s so nice for her to do. For her to stick up for a black woman who was openly attacked with racism.

The hate Leslie Jones is getting is beyond disgusting and inhuman. THEY see a success black woman and THEY go full on attack mode. THEY don’t want to see us happy, driven, motivated and winning. THEY want to see us in the gutter, the hood, uneducated and poor. And then at the same time blame us for their world problem. No matter where we are on the hierarchy, we still aint shit to THEM. But always remember the biggest revenge is your paper and most importantly, your happiness. Leslie is winning and she’s going to keep winning and so are we. The only thing THEY played is themselves. 

don’t want 2 reblog it bc I’m not into spreading images of people saying bigoted things, but the fact that the people verbally attacking that young black woman in the video were using “all lives matter” as part of their hate speech should erase any lingering doubts that anyone has abt what that slogan really means