For Colored Girls

I watched the newest installment of the Tyler Perry movie collection yesterday. It was quite complicated. It stared Janet Jackson and other big name black stars like Whoopi Goldberg. I love both of these lovely ladies, but both of their characters were extremely tough and closed off. The whole movie was about struggle (which is my new word) and finding peace after the storm. The whole movie was over run by beautiful poems and articulate fits of emotion during tragic events. It confused me a bit. The poetry was beautiful. The tragedy was terrible. The women were strong, smart, and beautiful even when they were being victimized. I was so perplexed by their pride in their color and astounded by the power they could find in one another. I understand that that was the point of the film. Black Female suicide has been on the rise for years and that is the demographic Tyler Perry was trying to reach by making this work into a movie. It was just so empowering to see the strength that was depicted at the end of the movie. 

I sometimes wonder why I couldn't have been woman of color. I think I get that from my family. I've grown up around three or four older cousins who want to be a part of black urban culture. Not only do they want to be, but  they are. I get jealous of them sometimes. I feel like they don't believe I value diversity. I feel like they judge me because I attend a university full of mostly middle class whites. They have never really said anything to me about college. I think they don't want to talk about it because they feel like  I might try to make them feel subordinate to me. I wouldn't do that though. I love all of them for who they are and what they do. I hope they see that. I can't exactly come out and ask them if they think I don't know anything about urban black culture. I can't just go up to them and tell them how much I value their life experiences. I need them to know that I love and value them.

We are Family.