I’ve really come to appreciate the black man. Its 2013, and I have NO business just now writing that. But with our history of father-less families, abuse, and womanizing by all men, its justified. I am black, raised in your typical middle-class American family setting. You know, parent’s divorced, single mother in the suburbs type thing. One thing I will acknowledge from my childhood is my parents imparting me with an appreciation for my “African-American” culture. Which does not justify me for writing this.
As the token black female most of my upbringing I automatically paired myself with my male counterpart, who was rarely interested. But as I grew older in my grade school years that attitude faded to who any boy would give me attention. My first real crushes in high school where Filipino boys. Then I ventured back into my own genre and never switched. It wasn’t that I was expected to only date black boys, but more so those lingering words “there are enough black men out there for you too”.
Being recently engulfed in a foreign land has really made me appreciate black men. And let me expound on that. By ‘black’ I do mean African American. As in the very distinct man raised in the United States who’s parents survived the Civil Rights movement and had enough sense to tell him about it. That is the black male I am referring to in this writing.
I love that black man. I am absolutely in love with him. I adore him. And at this point I’m pretty sure I can not live without him. I don’t discriminate, a good looking man is a good looking man, but if you ask me what I would prefer in the long run…well my brother is going to win out.
Here is why.
Tall, short, skinny, fat, or fit, if he stands up straight he commands attention. His voice will always be heard. His smile will always be sought after. His hands are no stranger to work. His mind will always learn the task. Ask him anything and be ready for sincerity. Push him and be ready for honesty. His convictions stand him up straight, and his heritage keeps him honest. And in his eye is always that twinkle of pursuit. He is searching for something, and be ready to marvel when he finds it. I love black men.
I see why they are feared in society and forced under oppression. Something that good, can’t be safe. Oh and please don’t educate them. Distract them with lifestyles and material things they were never meant to have. Get them to focus on the next paycheck and not their net worth.
I wish there were more black men. Unfortunately this is where Geezy’s words are most relevant, last of a dying breed. Can someone please educate so we can reciprocate what I love most. Because not only do I want my own black male, but I kinda want one for all the daughters out there too. I’ve seen what they can do. And there’s no other group of people I have been more proud of in my life.
Seriously, I never liked the song. But I know all the words.
**So this month, for Black History Month, I celebrate the resilient black male. You can also check out my 2013 post for black history month.
[…] this is where the conversation trailed. We started with my preferences. Ultimately as I have stated before, “I would like to marry an African American male who’s parents survived the Civil Rights […]