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Dear Black Elites

August 19, 2014

Dear Black Elites,
I shouldn’t need this Spelman degree to get you to listen to what I have to say. I shouldn’t have to be part of this black elite crowd to be heard by you. I shouldn’t need to be on Ebony Magazine’s payroll for you to respect me. I shouldn’t be considered more valuable by you because I was a guest lecturer at Morehouse at the age of 21. I shouldn’t have to earn your respect via this lens of respectability politics. I shouldn’t have to announce my accolades and my roladex. I shouldn’t have to fit within a mold that you have constructed rooted in assimilation and whiteness in order for you to be present to my opinions. You should listen to me if I was everything you were taught not to respect and value. Because I’m a phukin person. I shouldn’t have to accumulate this privilege to speak that is validated by you via a lens that is not meant for either of us. I cut the mustard simply because my heart beats and spews out red blood.
Sincerely,
Eff the White Gaze/The Crooked Room Is Real

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