Would You Rather Be A Fetish Or Feared?
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Politics and Activism

Would You Rather Be A Fetish Or Feared?

What if you didn't have an option?

27
Would You Rather Be A Fetish Or Feared?

It's 11:15 p.m. right now, but these words have been bubbling up in my spirit since late Sunday evening, and maybe even longer, but were just not known to me.

I'm tired of being a fetish and a stereotype at the same time.

Just recently, in order to purchase some products from LUSH, one of my all-time favorite stores, I had to travel through a Neiman Marcus. I did not hesitate to walk through their doors, as I had never really had a problem with them before. I always minded my own business and stared straight ahead. But this time, it was a little different. I had my younger sister with me and as we walked together, I tossed my shoulders back and declared to the world with my body language that "I belong here". The salespeople in the stores, however, did not feel the same way at all. Hard stares and quick, cursory glances were tossed our way. Even when I smiled brightly to a lady behind a desk, all I received in return was a scowl. And when I thanked a lady very sweetly for moving out of our way, she paid no attention to me as if I had not spoken. Very quickly I realized that we were not welcome in the store. What should've felt like thirty seconds of walking through a part of a mall felt like three minutes of never ending gazes and stares.

My sister did not notice the first time, or if she did, care and I liked it better that way. Not to keep her ignorant, but to keep her oblivious to the hatred or stares that were meant to tear us down. The color of our skin did not matter to her as much as it mattered to me in that moment, because she did not see it as a threat to the people around her. I didn't either, but the cogs in my mind began to work to figure out a way for the people who worked there to stop seeing me as such.

But then the cogs in my mind stopped and formed a question much like "Who is John Galt?".

I am a fetish, and yet I am feared. How is that possible?

So many men that I have encountered online and in person will quickly stereotype me as a girl who twerks or a as girl who does not formulate a coherent thought that can be put down on paper and understood, or as a girl who earns respect wherever she goes. Many men have said "I've never been with a black girl before" as if that is an achievement in a game. I have been asked what I thought about #blacklivesmatter (which I wholly support and love) and promptly told I was wrong because I was dumb and black and I didn't understand how stupid and useless the movement was. I've been torn apart limb from limb by stares and comments at the mall, at the park and even at my own neighborhood grocery store because I was with my sweet little god brother and they believed that I was his mother. I've shocked people when I picked up a book and sat in a coffee shop to read for an extended amount of time. I suprised my own mother once when I was young and in a bookstore where a lady took it upon herself to recommend a children's book for me, all the while talking down to me as if I was stupider than I truly was. I promptly turned to said lady, told her I had already read the series and recommended books that she might like if she enjoyed that series. She turned to my mother and whispered, wide-eyed: "Is this your daughter? She's so intelligent." My mother smiled at her, took my hand and said "I know. That's how I raised her." and walked away. I've been told to my face that I am "so well-spoken" as if I was not meant to be well-spoken.

My body has been criticized because it is not the body of a "normal" black girl - you know what I'm talking about - big hips, big bust, round bottom and a swagger that won't quit.

But still, I am something to be tried because of the color of my skin, like an ice cream flavor.

Don't fetisize me. I may not be the girl you see in the media, but I am still a human being that has feelings.

Don't fear me, either. Respect me instead, and we'll have such a wonderful tie getting to know each other.

Because the color of my skin doesn't mean anything except how much the sun is attracted to me. And a woman who can absorb so much heat and not be burnt is a woman to be admired and loved.

"I'm not the average girl from your video

And I ain't built like a supermodel

But I learned to love myself unconditionally

Because I am a queen"

- Video, India.Arie

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This article has not been reviewed by Odyssey HQ and solely reflects the ideas and opinions of the creator.
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