Do you know your role?? Role in life?? At work? In the community?? Your relationships?? Your family? Do you?? And once you know them, do you ever just want to buck the system??
Oh the roles we play! I was talking to someone about Dr. Connie Rice, who I can call Connie because she and I go back like that. But I still give her the respect of calling her Doctor. You know how I do. If Trick luh da kids, I luh the older people just the same. But did Dr. Connie get where she is simply by knowing her role?? Did Bush bring the minorities on board who know their roles??
Doc Con (a little nickname I gave her back when she used to babysit me) is from the south. I’m not from the south per se. But I’m from the south, if you know what I mean. My roots are deep in Alabama. So I have a lot of southern values. Anyhow, I hear that in the south, which I can neaither confirm nor deny cus I never visit, darkies know their roles. Think about that for a moment.
And white people, don’t get it twisted and think at any point you can call a Black person a darkie. There will be no ‘Why can’t we say n*gga/er?’ type debate about it. Use ‘darkie’ and you will get knocked the fug out. You’ve been warned.
I’ve even had a story told to me in which a white acquainence arrived at the airport in Alabama. She’d never been there and was alone. But she’d befriended an older white woman on the plane. Actually, the older white woman befirended her. Y’all know how
Vicki, at the time was seriously dating and is now married to a Black man. This exchange was a huge wake-up call for poor Vicki because it reminded her of the racism that has a hold on some people and that he probably should never visit her while she was in basic training in Alabama. Even sader, Vicki had no idea what the lady meant. Hump! I know my place and it damn sure isn’t in Crack-o-de-Ass, Alabama.
My girl and her husband live in Alabama as well. They’re moving soon. But she’s said the same thing about Blacks knowing their place. I’ve been told by northerners living in the south, that down there, Black folks will barely try to use the same restrooms and water fountains as whites. So even though the signs are down, they still know their place. Oy-vey!
In those situations, knowing ones place, where everyone pays the same taxes, is some hot cow feces!!
Now really, you didn’t think this post was gonna be about people in the south and racism did you?? Had you didn’t I!?
When I deal with people, I get pissed when they don’t know their place in regards to me–cus I damn sure know mine with respect to them. I’d like to say I’m pretty up front. And if I tell a mofo they are on Level 3, Section 4, Row C in my life, they’d better not try to step over to Section 6!!! And so that, my dear readers, is what pissed me off so much about the H situation. She’d stepped out of box before. I reminded her of her place. Yet, this broad still put on her highest heels and tried to shimmy on outside of the playing zone! On some, lemme-put-my-non-pedicured-big-toe-in-the-water-first type slick shyt! Da f*ck? I wasn’t born yesterday. And IF I was, I stayed up all night studying people and situations like these.
I had another situation where a chick thought she could compete with me. TRyna be sneaky bout it too. Don’t she know mofos love to bring me news? Y’all I’m not a competative person. Truth is, I’m too self-absorbed to compete. Because at the end of the day, Kajuana is all about who?? Kajuana! Guess that comes from being raised as an only child. But what pissed me off in this I-can-have-whatever-Kajuana-has situation was not what she did, it’s that she didn’t recognize her place as I’d so kindly defined it for her. And her lack of recognition, or misjudgement, made me feel like either I hadn’t been clear on how things work at Kajuana, LLC, or this b*tch understood but didn’t take it seriously. Either way, I didn’t like it. Either way, through smiles and false friendship, both her and H are still on my LIST.
It’s the same deal with men. I actually had a dude come to my home, casa de Kajuana, on Christmas DAY with his two arms a’swinging. He was tryna get with me y’all–Sans gift!!! And, oh, it gets better. He was on his way to his family’s home but never bothered to pretend to invite me–which wouldn’t have mattered anyway because I as about to roll to hang with the fam anyway. But this is about principle here! I was actually con-f*cking-fused. Because again, he mistook his role and mine. He tried to play me like I was a toothless, crooked eyed, uneducated, swamp donkey. Sure, I might not be the brightest star in the sky, but dammit, I’m still a star.
Which reminds me. I talk a lot of shyt. It’s what I do. But you know what? Some of it, boys and girls, isn’t just shyt talk. I sincerely believe I’m great. Not because of what anyone else says. But because I usually reach the goals I set for myself. And dammit, if you can’t write an ode to your damn self, you might find others writing you one when it’s too late for you to enjoy it…At your funeral. Pat yourselves on the back. If you’s a bad mofo/b*tch, don’t declare yourself less because it might make others more comfortable with themselves.
This here works the same in my work and relationships with the menfolk. My dad (Dayum I’m glad I sorta have 2 dads.) told me that relationships are easy as long as both people agree on the roles to be played and are willing to play them. Gosh I love that man!!! He’s always droppen nuggets on me. When I’m in a position where people at work are trying to place me in, or begin to respond to me like I’m in a role I never agreed to, there’s a problem. One that usually ends in me leaving and making more money. Hee-hee.
Sometimes, I fall short. Go ahead, I know you’re all shocked. Ya see, while psychologically, I’m an only child, I’m really the oldest. But aside from occasionally being an ATM for the brother my mother gave birth to, I’m not that great in the role of eldest/big sister. Go figure!
What probabaly would have helped is if I had some incidences in my youth to draw upon. But I don’t. So now, I’m at a loss about how to be the oldest/big sister. I’m a great role model/inspiration type on paper, but that’s it. They don’t know me and I don’t know them. Even sader, I don’t have a sincere desire to get to know them. Doesn’t that suck. And I wonder if this is how estranged parents feel when they’ve missed out on a huge chunk of their child’s life.
But this is getting long. Tell me, how are you doing with defining your various roles, sticking to them, and/or flirting with adjusting them.
Ed. Note: This post was only 50% serious. I expected someone to be outraged. Just like with the whole segregation thing, I though I’d have at least ONE person who was strongly pro-desegregation and would want to argue. Or even one white person who’d say they wanted us to have our own stuff and leave theirs alone. Obviously, I need to work on writing posts that offend more.
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