My Beautiful Nigger skin

I’ve been told many of times, I love your skin tone, I love how the red hue in your skin lifts up the brown and gives it this mahogany tone, a rich brown tone. The smoothness of my skin and the shine that it reflects when pampered. The dark murky muddy color it turn’s in the summer, the caramel brown it changes back to in the winter; my beautiful nigger skin. The same skin that has so much shine and gives off so much radiance is the same skin that receives so much hate and stereotype. So many mixed messages that this nation sends, racism is dead, get over slavery, you have a black president now, everything is ok; oh, your skin tone is ok it’s such a beautiful color but when there REALLY dark, it doesn’t look so great. The audacity, as if that makes it ok for you to say such a thing; if  I were to stay in the sun long enough, that mahogany will turn black; either way, it’s still insult. 

My beautiful Nigger skin will always be the first to approach, stay in your mind and remain. The relationships I build with some will never sub-consciously get past the skin tone. As I make an effort to not notice that fact, my race seems to come up, there is a constant reminder that I’m black. Well no shit, I look in the mirror every morning. This isn’t anger towards others, so if people I know read this, please do not take offense; it’s not your fault, society has played you that way. My skin tone is symbolic of crime and violence, being the “hip” guy and knowing what’s in the know, always has something funny to say (however I do like to make people laugh) but my skin is a stereotype as are others, but the issue is, I seem to never bring up your skin tone or race, why does my race have to be the choice of topic? My beautiful nigger skin, I wouldn’t trade it for the world; I might want to trade the history that comes with it but with the color comes a rich history. Nigger, most may find the word offensive. And I know why, I apologize ahead of time; however, it’s a word that has turned me into a phoenix (also a college graduate). My beautiful Nigger skin get’s rejected on interviews, attracts cops, receives compliments, yet get’s judged, it doesn’t wrinkle, but it receives dislike, maybe because people of my skin tone can act a fool, but fool’s don’t come in color you fool, fools are people; some fools come in my color people so I’m classified as a fool, labeled as dumb even being educated were all labeled as one. 

When we scream racism it’s not because we pull the race card, for some it is. The thought that’s its still alive, I understand can be a major noodle scratcher, the thought that my skin tone is still a trigger of hate in some places, amongst families is almost a parody. The thought that people still have this hate for one another, the thought that some blacks have a hate for white, as it’s called, reverse racism; it’s not reversed, reverse meaning going the other way, meaning you had a hate for black people; the hate is only going one way in two directions, back and forth.  Oh I love how we, the black community can split and fight amongst each other, but come together, yet single out the one we called “washed”. I love how we can’t seem to get to the next step because of the “man” and I love how the “man” knows that, and uses it as a missile and will tell us, “that’s nonsense, there is no man, racism is dead” but let’s Zimmerman walk.

            I love how the man will play two faced. Kind of like how a black butler had to have only two faces as a servant; who do you trust? My beautiful nigger skin get’s ignored in other parts of the world; the acknowledgement of its tone and that’s where it stops. America is trending green and mimicking other nations yet we still hold on to the negative aspects of this nation. When does it stop? When will it simmer? Are we scared to move forward? Or are we a nation torn apart? Slowly, but surely, we wind down this path and mimic the Roman’s. America don’t fall, stand up, rise like the south but let those in the south ignorance fall, let this country become and embrace the change, for once let my skin be beautiful without the name, let my heritage shine, let me be, let me converse and not think that, let me talk with you and not think I, let me sit on your couch and not wonder if, let me walk to the store and not wonder if, let me eat my skittles, let me eat fried chicken and watermelon in peace got damn it!!! Lol…I really did laugh…because it figures I would want to eat watermelon and fried chicken, oh the stereo type of my beautiful nigger skin. The uproar of the word is the down play of my IQ. 

My masta said I should gets a masta. Why yes sir I’m phina gets me some smarts whena masta see me he gon’ go for me! Whew! I tells you, I loves me schoolin hope my masta knows that! I’s dun wit dis jig. Des folks, I tells ya, whew I tells ya now. Watch out for me. I have an education and I just hope the best for my children. One day, in my dreams, I hope to see all of us, in this nation accept that lingo, the Ebonics, the so called “slave” talk, how could it be slave talk; it was African’s speaking with an accent, the same as any other race that came here on a boat, plane or car, it was an accent, yet it was looked at as stupidity. It’s hard to see because America is such a young nation that we don’t see black Americans as Immigrants; we are immigrants just been “hanging” around here for a while and we actually have been in America for a while as well. My beautiful n****r skin….