I love black men. I love black men with a capital, underlined, bold faced “L.” I love to look at them; I love to talk to them; I love to be mad at them; I love to talk about them to black women; I love to…everything them. There’s something special about black men; something so special that I would need to have a negative encounter with every chocolate, caramel and creamy colored brother in the world before I could ever jump ship. Sure, y’all get on my nerves. Yeah, y’all do some incredibly dumb things. Of course, I’ve sworn you off a couple of times. But I wouldn’t trade the love, companionship or intellect of a black man for all the peanut M&Ms in the world. And I really like peanut M&Ms.
I know there are some trifling boys masquerading as men roaming around the earth (and roaming around campus), but for every trifling Negro, there are men like my daddies, uncles, cousins, brother and nephews who would love nothing more than to get their hands on any fella’ that does Jada F. Smith or [insert your name here] wrong. It was these black men who taught me what unconditional love is.
When there was a sucky Father’s Day or birthday gift, they put on a smile and acted like it was a new car. When I got to college and all of a sudden became too “grown” or “busy” to call home, they gave me my space without complaint. When I scratched the entire left side of the car against one of the yellow posts at the drive-thru ATM, they gave me the keys again the following night. If it wasn’t for the love of these black men, I wouldn’t know what love is.
Being scorned by a significant other is a part of life. Blacks, Hispanics, Asians – there’s bound to be a few slashed tires and thrown drinks from Timbuktu to Germany. But before a bitter taste consumes the whole experience, it’s always preceded by a little sweetness that stains your memory forever. And what could be sweeter than genuine, easy, kinetic companionship from a black man? It doesn’t have to be romantic. It can be finding a kindred spirit, a source of inspiration, wisdom, a unique sense of humor or a quick wit that builds solid relationships between black men and women. The experience of black men in America varies so much, there’s awesome company to keep and lessons to be learned from each one of them.
I also think that it takes coming to a black university to fully appreciate the vastness that black men have to offer. One of the highlights of my college life has been taking Africana studies classes with Gregory Carr, Ph.D. and learning about the intellectual genealogy of our people from a black man who wants nothing more than to educate us about ourselves. Our tradition of passing down culture and beliefs, especially between older and younger black men, are what makes us a special group of people.
But of course, the outside community doesn’t see that. They demonize you and make a mockery of your culture. The world may not understand you, or even care to, my beautiful black men, but I do. And to change up a line from Angie Stone’s “Black Brother,” just know that Jada loves ya.
Be the first to comment on this article!