I minored in African-American studies... Yep, I took classes to get in touch with my blackness. One thing African-American studies did was help me notice all the racism occurring around me everyday... So, if you use those plastic stick dividers in the checkout line at the grocery store, STOP SUPPORTING SEGREGATION! African American studies also taught me that I can pass for white... on the phone.
It’s weird being a light skinned brother is easier than being a dark skinned brother. This has been a thing forever, and this post celebrates brothers like myself. The light skinned black men with first-world-white-privilege type problems. Now, I'm just spitballing here but, I think when Obama got elected the cops all got together and decided you can’t shoot a black if he’s, as light or, lighter than Barak. But seriously, I'm so lucky that the cops think shooting pale brothers is bad joo joo. Otherwise. Uh-oh!
As a light skinned black man in America I'm plagued by fear. One is that when everyone is choosing teams during pickup basketball instead of getting picked first I get picked second, or worst case scenario, third. Another is, maybe people might think I'm not as excellent a dancer, rapper, or interracial lover as a darker nigga. (Truth is I'm not). But my biggest fear is women assuming my dick is just moderately bigger than average. (Hey, stop thinking about my hog!)
These are valid fears but they're really nothing to lose sleep over. Besides, as a light skinned negro I shouldn't worry about those things anyway. I should worry about how moist my skin is because I'm closer to cracking than my darker "black don't crack" brethren. Also, I don't want premature wrinkles at 65 years.
Anyway, you're responsible for keeping yourself happy my light-skinned-caramel-taupe-beige-khaki-brown-paper-bag-Carlton-Banks-looking-ass-brothas. So, don’t let them hood-ass-niggas frustrate you because you don't know as much about guns and drugs as them.
I have to admit that growing up I wanted to be gangster so much that at night I would get down on my knees and pray to black baby jesus. "Jesus, please send a bullet so that it might just graze my butt cheek and give me the street credit I desire so badly."
Really, don’t worry, because a big factor in overall happiness is how much gratitude you show. So, keep your head up and wear that t-shirt that says 'Tell your mom I said "THANKS"'.
By the way, African American studies also taught me that, I’m racist. YEAH, I didn’t believe that for one cotton picking second either.