This sounds rash. I know. But I mean it. One of my greatest flaws is my inability to not care about situations or people who set out to harm or otherwise negatively impact me. In 2015, I am letting that go.
Now, don’t misunderstand me. I don’t want to just be “carefree”. I like the goals of the “carefree Black woman” movement – to show that Black women do things beyond stereotypes like riding bikes, eating brunch, and hanging with friends. I’m just not overly concerned with perception here. I am making this goal an introspective, self-centered one. On purpose.
I definitely think we need to care about plenty of things like social (in)justice, economic wealth disparities, unequal access to healthcare, or increased unemployment across Black communities in this country. I plan to continue to devote my intellectual abilities to asking questions about Black women’s self-making and politics in this country. And, I don’t plan to abandon my research in post-racialism or media framing of violence against Blacks. I support the notion of self-care, but I am not seeking ambivalence here. Instead, I just want to stop caring about how others feel more than how I feel about myself. I want to stop caring so deeply for people that I support hostile or unjust social groups and institutions in the name of solidarity.
This is something I struggled with at my first job out of college. I had grown up adoring Disney. My favorite childhood movie was Cinderella. I knew all the words. I knew all the songs. And, when I was asked to interview on those hallowed grounds, I felt beyond honored. But, what I wasn’t prepared for – in my naiveté – was the fact that everyone working there was human. Deeply human. They weren’t princesses or princes. There were plenty of villains but no fairy godmothers. Well, maybe a few. In my blind devotion to the few people there who I cared deeply for and to the brand itself, I lost sight of myself.
Read the full article at Water Cooler Convos.