Love, lust and fucking while black at a predominately white college
/This is for black girls who are tired of being called Queens and going home alone and waking up alone/
This information will pertain specifically to black females in heterosexual relationships, both sexual and romantic. The author realizes this is a limiting perspective and does not take into consideration the complexities of sexuality and gender expression. [Resources on campus to explore/ discuss and be affirmed concerning the intersections of queerness and blackness: PLUS + People Like Us, a student group for Queer and Trans* People of Color (QTPOC)]
I am sitting in the common room of my suite surrounded by two of my best friends. Two black females, two melanin blessed sisters that have shown me what it really means to be friends and comrades. I ask them about dating, hooking up and generally being romantic or sexual on WASHU’s campus.
Simultaneously, they tell me “it’s hard.” I ask why and they say:
“The black men like white girls and everyone else doesn’t fuck with us.”
We have had this conversation before, and will have it multiple times again before we depart this Disney land-esque campus. Eventually, when we settle in our adult lives, young black women professionals hustling in our respective careers, we will again encounter the paradox of our desirability.
We are beautiful. We are intelligent. We are woke.
So what’s the deal?
A black girl is just trying to get some.
The Situation:
Beauty standards on the illustrious campus of Washington University in St. Louis are the same as the rest of society. Whiteness is elevated, placed on a pinnacle. This is due to the obvious suspects: white supremacy, eurocentric beauty standards and colonization to name a few. And while recently our features and trends have become popular, we are all aware this only applies to bodies that aren’t our own. (See: white girls with cornrolls that twerk at the party and write #AllLivesMatter all on my TL, Kylie Jenner, that archetypal white guy with dreads who always wants to talk about Marxism, Vogue Magazine columbusing bantu knots)
In the wonderful anthology, All the Women Are White, All the Blacks Are Men: But Some Of Us Are Brave Michele Wallace writes about her experience growing up. She recalls a game she played with her sister, they would attach scarfs to the end of their braids and dance around pretending to be princesses. She goes on to explain that growing up, long hair wasn’t directly correlated with being white but more with femininity and as she discovered, “Being feminine meant being white to us.” This narrative is not atypical; while femininity is not every woman’s expression this experience rings true for many.
The relationship of whiteness and femininity is intrinsically connected to the continued commodification of black women’s bodies throughout history. So we are not woman or more so, we are not human.
As a black woman living in this world we are as Zora Neale Hurston wrote, “da mule of the world.” The intersection of our experience, trauma and oppression is often erased or built into a monolithic expression of reality. So when it comes to love and relationships we face a complex laundry list of struggles and walls.
Everyone has preferences, types of people they usually are attracted to. That’s not what I am talking about. Instead, the following concentrates on situations in which implicit biases or blatant racism plays a part.
• “I’m just not attracted to black girls.”
What does that even mean? So this is a situation in which a person creates a monolithic understanding of blackness and thus dismisses our humanity.
• " "
Being seen as a nonsexual being, having your womanness stripped from you. This is not the friend zone. It is a situation in which you quickly realize it is your blackness that stands in the way. A person’s inability to recognize that as a black girl your sexuality cannot just be ignored or oversexualized it exists on a plane of reality.
• “You are so cute for a black girl.”
Individuals again using standards of a racist society to determine your beauty.
• “I love black chicks.”
When someone does present interest in you but it quickly becomes apparent that this is not genuine interest. Instead, they merely want to fetishize us and tell their friends about an exotic experience.
• “I can’t be racist, my girlfriend is black.”
Non–black people within the movement for social justice who fetishize black women in order to use our blackness as a bucket to hold their white tears of guilt.
So this is my truth, my experience and the experiences of my friends, cousins and acquaintances. But always remember, live within your own truth and craft your own narrative.
These comments range from minor annoyance to extreme ignorance. Each person will handle each conflict in a different way. Having an honest conversation with a friend or potential partner about fetishization, microaggressions and racialized sexuality is sometimes the best, especially if it is someone you care about. But let’s be real, in a crowded party you might not necessarily want to explain why a comment was horrid. In those situations I often leave and vent. Self-care could mean leaving the party entirely or telling your friends, laughing about the individual’s stupidity and dancing to Fetty Wap.
So people suck. People are racist and small-minded and we live in a society and on a campus where white supremacy is perpetuated on a daily basis. But still… you are horny.
Horniness is real. Hormones are real. Bodies often want to be touched by other bodies sometimes in a committed way and sometimes in a casual manner. So what’s the solution? Below I have created a list of avenues and ways in which the booty can be acquired. Obviously, this is not exhaustive and with most of these solutions you will encounter racism and ignorance.
The goal is not necessarily to overcome this pain, but rather to realize we are not to blame. Our blackness, our womanness, our curves and plump lips and kinky hair, our rows of Brazilian weave, our thinness or thickness is not an apology. Our skin is not an apology. Our beings are not a euphemism for last or second best. You are worthy. You are precious and finely crafted to inhabit the space you take up. Once we get past that part. Once we realize our worth does not correlate with how many people want to make-out with us at a party we can begin to focus on the reality of our situation.
To be a black, woke woman on WASHU’s campus is hard, but remember; you manifest greatness by existing. Everyday you wake up and live in this body, and that is a revolutionary act.
This information will pertain specifically to black females in heterosexual relationships, both sexual and romantic. The author realizes this is a limiting perspective and does not take into consideration the complexities of sexuality and gender expression. [Resources on campus to explore/ discuss and be affirmed concerning the intersections of queerness and blackness: PLUS + People Like Us, a student group for Queer and Trans* People of Color (QTPOC)]
I am sitting in the common room of my suite surrounded by two of my best friends. Two black females, two melanin blessed sisters that have shown me what it really means to be friends and comrades. I ask them about dating, hooking up and generally being romantic or sexual on WASHU’s campus.
Simultaneously, they tell me “it’s hard.” I ask why and they say:
“The black men like white girls and everyone else doesn’t fuck with us.”
We have had this conversation before, and will have it multiple times again before we depart this Disney land-esque campus. Eventually, when we settle in our adult lives, young black women professionals hustling in our respective careers, we will again encounter the paradox of our desirability.
We are beautiful. We are intelligent. We are woke.
So what’s the deal?
A black girl is just trying to get some.
The Situation:
Beauty standards on the illustrious campus of Washington University in St. Louis are the same as the rest of society. Whiteness is elevated, placed on a pinnacle. This is due to the obvious suspects: white supremacy, eurocentric beauty standards and colonization to name a few. And while recently our features and trends have become popular, we are all aware this only applies to bodies that aren’t our own. (See: white girls with cornrolls that twerk at the party and write #AllLivesMatter all on my TL, Kylie Jenner, that archetypal white guy with dreads who always wants to talk about Marxism, Vogue Magazine columbusing bantu knots)
In the wonderful anthology, All the Women Are White, All the Blacks Are Men: But Some Of Us Are Brave Michele Wallace writes about her experience growing up. She recalls a game she played with her sister, they would attach scarfs to the end of their braids and dance around pretending to be princesses. She goes on to explain that growing up, long hair wasn’t directly correlated with being white but more with femininity and as she discovered, “Being feminine meant being white to us.” This narrative is not atypical; while femininity is not every woman’s expression this experience rings true for many.
The relationship of whiteness and femininity is intrinsically connected to the continued commodification of black women’s bodies throughout history. So we are not woman or more so, we are not human.
As a black woman living in this world we are as Zora Neale Hurston wrote, “da mule of the world.” The intersection of our experience, trauma and oppression is often erased or built into a monolithic expression of reality. So when it comes to love and relationships we face a complex laundry list of struggles and walls.
Everyone has preferences, types of people they usually are attracted to. That’s not what I am talking about. Instead, the following concentrates on situations in which implicit biases or blatant racism plays a part.
• “I’m just not attracted to black girls.”
What does that even mean? So this is a situation in which a person creates a monolithic understanding of blackness and thus dismisses our humanity.
• " "
Being seen as a nonsexual being, having your womanness stripped from you. This is not the friend zone. It is a situation in which you quickly realize it is your blackness that stands in the way. A person’s inability to recognize that as a black girl your sexuality cannot just be ignored or oversexualized it exists on a plane of reality.
• “You are so cute for a black girl.”
Individuals again using standards of a racist society to determine your beauty.
• “I love black chicks.”
When someone does present interest in you but it quickly becomes apparent that this is not genuine interest. Instead, they merely want to fetishize us and tell their friends about an exotic experience.
• “I can’t be racist, my girlfriend is black.”
Non–black people within the movement for social justice who fetishize black women in order to use our blackness as a bucket to hold their white tears of guilt.
So this is my truth, my experience and the experiences of my friends, cousins and acquaintances. But always remember, live within your own truth and craft your own narrative.
These comments range from minor annoyance to extreme ignorance. Each person will handle each conflict in a different way. Having an honest conversation with a friend or potential partner about fetishization, microaggressions and racialized sexuality is sometimes the best, especially if it is someone you care about. But let’s be real, in a crowded party you might not necessarily want to explain why a comment was horrid. In those situations I often leave and vent. Self-care could mean leaving the party entirely or telling your friends, laughing about the individual’s stupidity and dancing to Fetty Wap.
So people suck. People are racist and small-minded and we live in a society and on a campus where white supremacy is perpetuated on a daily basis. But still… you are horny.
Horniness is real. Hormones are real. Bodies often want to be touched by other bodies sometimes in a committed way and sometimes in a casual manner. So what’s the solution? Below I have created a list of avenues and ways in which the booty can be acquired. Obviously, this is not exhaustive and with most of these solutions you will encounter racism and ignorance.
- Masturbation - for a woman to know how to please herself is one of the most radical acts of self-love that exists.
- Tinder/Grindr/OKcupid – dating apps are usually hit or miss but it allows you to find individuals off campus. Also, racism and fetishization via dating apps is real and vulgar but you also have the ability to unmatch and block people which you can’t do as absolutely in real life.
- Off campus - explore St. Louis, go to museums and cultural events that doesn’t just mean the most forthcoming Alpha party. Find your people and thus find your romantic/sexual friend(s). Be vulnerable and it will pay off. Be brave and leave campus. You will surely be rewarded.
The goal is not necessarily to overcome this pain, but rather to realize we are not to blame. Our blackness, our womanness, our curves and plump lips and kinky hair, our rows of Brazilian weave, our thinness or thickness is not an apology. Our skin is not an apology. Our beings are not a euphemism for last or second best. You are worthy. You are precious and finely crafted to inhabit the space you take up. Once we get past that part. Once we realize our worth does not correlate with how many people want to make-out with us at a party we can begin to focus on the reality of our situation.
To be a black, woke woman on WASHU’s campus is hard, but remember; you manifest greatness by existing. Everyday you wake up and live in this body, and that is a revolutionary act.
Mimi Borders
[email protected]
[email protected]