Sheets: We aren’t talking music
I had to comment about the events of (1/6/2021) that transpired.
I saw our capitol desecrated, people run amok in congress, home grown terrorists had congress hiding and barricaded because of the words of ’45 and MAGA terrorists hung nooses and sent pipe bombs. After that, all I could think about was I wonder if my old bosses were out in the those DC streets or at home ironing their sheets.
If you have followed me for a while then you remember my social media quips about one job in particular that came with a cast of characters: a group of girls I called the RUSSIANS who constantly pushed the racial line, the many microaggressions of my mediocre white male bosses and coworkers, and the blatant sexual harassment.
I am tired of living through police brutality, having to be twice as good to go half as far, and the fact that a group of white people could storm the capital with weapons and get to go home and sleep in their beds on their nice white sheets. I worked in the ninth circle of hell for nine years and much like the happenings of yesterday, I would watch the crazy happen around me.
Most workplace racism starts off subtle, a missed promotion, a conversation about accent, or even an off putting comment about hair. Oh but not this job! This job was like the capitol heist; it was loud and abrasive. I was called ethnic when I wore my hair curly and I was called a black bitch when I was outspoken in a meeting. I was told I took a job away from a perfectly talented white person and I was just a minority hire. I should be happy they took pity on me and I was employed. Whenever I did something great, I was told I was mediocre. That misogyny and racism, it wears on you. It makes me feel like things like this are supposed to happen, and maybe I was supposed to deal with it. I did it for nine years… the day I got fired I was sad but thrilled. It was because I had come into work early that week and paper-clipped a draft document instead of stapling.
You ask why did I stay? There has to be places better than that right? In retrospect, I ask myself that every day. I was told I was a rule breaker and I wouldn’t “toe the line” and maybe I would be of better use folding sweaters at a Gap. I was supposed to be pretty, do my job, and not ask questions. I was supposed to be a good negro and that’s how you keep a job in Corporate America. I remember unemployment laughed when they got the firing report. The unemployment person told me, “Baby, you don’t have to deal with them anymore, you are free.”
And that’s who I will continue to be, I write what I feel, I say what I want, and I call people out when I feel things are wrong. So to all the terrorists, racist bosses, and arrogant exes, you haven’t broken me yet, I will continue the fight, and you’ve only made me LOUDER….
Black Lives Matter
