WE'RE BITCHES! The Odd Ratchetness of Black Women in the Work Place

Hello my lovelies!

Okay, I promise - this is the last blog I'll ever do on race.  I didn't want to become THAT writer and circumstances of the last blog has absolutely nothing to do with this blog.  It just happens to be something that's been on my mind for the past couple of weeks.  Well, this really doesn't have anything to do with race per se...it's a general observation that I've noticed in my 20+ years of working hard for the Man.  In the middle of my message board update screw ups and Kurai Utopia Book Two's editing, somehow this issue has taken form in my mind's eye against my will and today, it sorta boiled to the surface for me. Being a writer, I must explore this.  Since I don't have very many blog followers, I'm not really expecting WW9 to break out up in here.

(of note, if you've read my blog on Internet Personas, you'll know I'm really good at internet fighting - in fact, I rather enjoy it)

Now that that's settled, I want you to keep something in mind.  I'm not a nice person.  For real though...seriously. Stop laughing!  In fact, no one who knows me or grew up with me would ever call me that.  I like to think that I've become affable and more agreeable with age; enjoying myself and my life on Planet Rock, and others just come along for the ride and I make sure they have as much fun as I'm having.  I had and still have some very serious anger management issues, but I see a therapist, who helps me with them and I swear fo gawd she's earning every dime. One co-worker calls me stubborn, but I'm not stubborn; I have conviction. There's a difference.

People who I've met over the years and have only known me for a short time, or people on the job who have known me for even less will swear that I'm full of it and I'm as nice as apple pie.  Say that shit to Tyanna, Ron, Lina, Babygirl, Renada, Fonda and some other Ryde or Die Chicks I ran with in my youth. They'll think you're talking about somebody whose name is spelled like mine, but isn't me at all. Actually, they'll start laughing at you because they think you're either crazy or never experienced my wrath.  The flip side of that is when I call you "friend," I will literally take a bullet for you. I'm down with you for all time and if need be, I will be sitting next to you in that jail cell.

I was a fighter too.  Geezus tapdancing Krist, I was a serious soldier.  I think the worst fight I ever had was when I bashed this girl in the head with the door of a locker.  No, I take that back - the worst was when this girl, who thought she was so tough and had a gang at this private school I attended, ended up scratching me in the face during our fight in the basement bathroom.  That bitch - scratched the Cheetah Diva!  Oh, hell naw!  Well, after beating her down like a savage dog and putting her head in the toilet, plus having the Wolfpack meet me after school after my three day suspension in a show of force cuz we know where them bitches lived, I never had to fight at that school again.  I wasn't from a broken home or was molested or was bullied...I just ran with a Wolfpack and that's how it was. Watching that knot swell up on Terri's fo'head to the size of Delaware and Bren drink from the toilet like her name was Rover were funny at the time, but as I've mellowed with age, I'm actually horrified by the level of violence. Truth be told, I think Terri was the last fight I ever had.

No, I'm wrong - I had a fight on the school bus in 1982 with a couple of sisters because one of them had an ugly dude she liked, and he made the mistake of asking her about me. In true bitch form, instead of getting mad at him, they jumped me.  By the time the driver pulled over, I had Tisha on the floor under my foot and was beating her sister like she stole from me. I cut my knuckle on that bitch's ragtacular mouth.

Yeah, THAT was the last fight I ever had.

What?  I didn't go around looking for fights - I never EVER threw the first punch.  My mother once told us (and I had that kind of mother who would come up the school and beat your ass in front of God and everyone else), if we threw the first punch, it was on.  If we were defending ourselves, she had our backs.

The teachers were scared of my mother...they would hide from her. For real...I could tell you some shit.

Don't get it twisted, my lovelies - it's not me being fake or putting on an act. I'm not going to talk about you like a dog behind your back and then greet you like you're a long lost sister. I don't roll like that. I have this thing - If I say "good morning, good night, have a nice day," or make small talk with you, you aight with me.  If I don't speak to you, either I don't know you or I don't like you.  If I talk about you, I think you're shit and would rather throw up on you than speak to you. No, I merely treat people the way I would like to be treated. I try to be pleasant and go into work with a positive attitude, but with things the way they are, that's not always possible. So I retreat within myself by listening to music all day, work an event or talk to the many customers that call for help with claim issues.  I really love my job, but I hate my environment.  Other people would say it the other way around, but that's not the case with me. I just don't like drama and try to avoid it whenever possible and try to stay under the radar. However, sometimes you have to just stand up and be a woman.  I live my life in a way that would make my daughter look at me with pride. I don't regret any of it and all things being said, I'd do it again. Reporting racism was the right thing to do. You can either stand and deliver, or you can say nothing and be as bad as they are. That's just who I am.

Anyhoo, this blog isn't about that. It's about - yeah okay, I'm getting to it - black women in the workplace.  An incident happened some time ago and I got upset by it. When I get upset, because of the anger management issues and the depression, I invert. I don't speak; not because I'm being funky, but because I've had a psychotic break and I have to disappear inside myself, or people will get cussed out or worse, punched.  I aint tryna go to jail or lose my job, but mentally I shut down. I'm not even aware that I do it, but someone will tell me later that they spoke and I didn't speak back. I actually feel bad about that and explain things. Usually they're cool with it, but sometimes I'll lose myself so much that someone will get feelings bent about it and then they're not talking to me.

Today I was speaking to one of the black dudes in the office and telling him that I really admire the way that the black men all go to lunch together, uplift each other and be a support for one another.  I then said, "I wish we black women here would do the same thing. Through all that I go through, it would be really cool to have a network of support to lean on."  With a wicked gleam in his eye, he asked me did I know why that was. I did the Horshack - "OOH! OOH! I KNOW!

IT'S BECAUSE WE'RE BITCHES! WE'RE BITCHES!! YEAH!!

...yeah. We're bitches."

What I would give to work in an environment in any job I've ever worked in my entire life and have a sisterhood, but nope. Not at work.  It's not to say that these same black women are like this in real life. I really wanna believe that. My blackened heart is really itching to believe that. No, for the most part, black women are each other's own worst enemy. It's a constant thing - the backstabbing, the two-facedness, gossip mongering, and the outright bitchery is irritating. Because of this, I avoid friendships at work. I can be cool as a fan, but I go out of my way to avoid drama. It's not like I'm being deceitful about it - I'm pretty much upfront about it when I tell them we're not friends. I'm not interested in hanging out after work, I'm not interested in going to lunch, I'm not interested in meeting your significant other or your dog, and I sure as hell am not interested in having you in my personal life. There's no telling what you might find out about me and run it around the office, then look at me with a straight face like you didn't just fuck me up the ass without vaseline. This is absolutely the wrong way to be, but it's a self-preservation mechanism. I've been through too much shit.

I'm not saying that white women don't do this. Sure they do - this bitch I work with is the most horrible person I've ever worked with bar none - and I worked with Big Nasty.  She lies like a rug, shit stirs drama and is pretty much the Devil's right hand. I honestly don't think she casts a reflection in the mirror. The biggest difference with them is they do it to move ahead. We do it out of sheer hatefulness. "They never promote black people around here," is the biggest complaint. When they do, it's "I wonder whose ass she kissed to get that job." Perhaps you didn't get the job because you're a gamey bitch with a bad attitude, but I digress.  I've met black women from all walks of life and I'm pretty sure they'll tell you a similar, if not more than five stories of the same caliber. If a chick has a better outfit than you, she bought off the rack. If she's dressed dowdy, she doesn't care about herself. If she has more bling than you, her man must be a rap thug. If she has better makeup than you, she's hiding how ugly she is. If her hair is layed, then she wasted her money on virgin Brazilian weave that's messed up (wtf is "virgin" weave anyway?)  If the managers like her work, then she must be snacking on the gatdamn dick.

Ladies! How did we get here?

For years, black women worked as maids, nannies, mammies, and every low level job that white people didn't want to do because they were the only types of jobs they could get, and in some states it was illegal for black women to not have jobs. This happened because white women would ask black women if they wanna be their maids and black women said "HELL NAW!" Anyway, black women knew they needed to stick together and support one another because each other was all they had. Then Title IX happened and women started the slow climb into the white color world and by the 80's we already hated each other. I would love to say this was not always the case, but I can't speak on that. It's so highly competitive that we're willing to destroy each other, and for what? A few dollars more? Not likely - those higher level jobs went to others NOT LIKE YOU. I want to say they pit us against each other and watch us fall like dominoes, but I don't think that to be the only thing. I'm not blaming Title IX, but somewhere along the way we stopped supporting each other and began a mad scramble to the top of nowhere.

A very wise young lady at work (one of the few people I truly like as a person and she totally earned my respect today) told me that the only thing holding a person back is themselves. Why be angry or ugly? Who wants to work with someone like that? You have to be positive and have a positive outlook, and people will notice that about you and want you to be the type of person they want around. While I understood exactly what she meant and adhere to many of the things she said, somehow this isn't truly the case with a lot of us in the work place.

We have children; many of us with daughters. I cringe for the day my daughter tells me the black women at work were horrible to her and she couldn't think of a reason why because I know my daughter is a nice, sweet person. All of her teachers thought she was the sweetest thing ever laid down on earth. I don't know who she gets it from.  Anyway, we have to set a better example for them. We have to be better than this but how do we make the change?

First off, stop using the word "bitch" like it's code for "Queen" or something. The last time I called someone a bitch, I was not inviting her for tea. In fact, I'm pretty sure she was in a corner eating her hair because "bitch" would have been the nicest thing I've called her. There's absolutely nothing empowering about being called a bitch, and I will check anyone who calls me that. "Bitch" and "Friend" are not interchangeable!

Second, teach your daughter to love herself. If she can't love who she is, how is she going to be a reflection of love when she leaves your home?

Third, eliminate the word "fast" when talking about a young girl.  Recognize that she's been sexualized and this is a crime! Someone did something to her that made her like this, and somehow she's retreated into this mentality where sexual attention is the way she feels any self-worth when in fact, she's treated like a piece of dirty meat. By the time she's an adult, she's a psychologically damaged sociopath hell bent on destroying everyone's lives just for amusement. She's crying for help - HELP HER!  White girls sexualized - "we must do something - she needs counseling!" Black girls sexualized - "what a dirty hoe!" This is so wrong.

Fourth, fathers - get into your daughter's lives. We can mold her into a woman, but it's your job to protect her. Tell her that she's beautiful and the most precious gem in the world. When the next man tells her this, she'll already know and is hip to the game. If you are a presence in her life, some abuser may think twice about approaching her.  If you treat her like she's a jewel, the right man will come along and prove to you that he's worthy of her. Don't let her go until he does.

Fifth, being nearly naked or being a clothes whore does not make you a better person; it just makes you trifling and broke.

Finally, stop blaming reality shows for the ratchetness of black women. We were messed up at work long before this - it's just on teevee for the world to see. Yes, I'm entertained by it but when I turn off the teevee, I'm seriously not going to emulate any of those nut cases. I got my own problems.

...although, I think some of them VH1 wives are way worse than them ladies in ATHell, but of course the black women are all we hear about.

I want you all to consider doing something; get all of the black women in your office together and go to lunch off-site. Sit down and just share positive vibes, good food and conversation. Maybe someone is in need of a friend and you just might be that person, but try to have a civil discussion about how you view each other at work. Perhaps there are some misunderstandings that are occurring and you might be able to work them out. Maybe then you can build a decent relationship and perhaps a friendship.

Well, it's back to editing this weekend, but today I've bought the second Hobbit movie so I'll be in front of the teevee for the next 10 hours or so.  I kinda got a thing for Thorin, Filli and Killi.  They're kind of hot. One of my girls asked me if I would take on all three at the same time.  Sure...why not?  Since they're dwarves, I kinda imagine it as having one whole man plus two extra hands.

Ciao!

nnb

Update 615/14:  After carefully thinking about it, I decided to take my own advice and have a Ladies Luncheon and sit down with my co-workers, which will happen on June 20th.  I'll keep you posted.