#NotSoSartorial

When I first started lifting, I didn’t realize my size would impact how I’m perceived That mass plus blackness was a formula for prejudice and fear

I became self conscious

I would walk up five flights of stairs instead of making white folks uncomfortable by riding in an elevator with them at night I would shrink myself down as tiny as possible on the bus as if saying with my body “I will not take your purse”

I would stand a safe distance away from white people on the street, give a nod and a wink whenever they hurriedly locked their car doors as I walked by

I would speak as clearly as possible as if each proper enunciation would prevent more years of oppression and bullets in the backs of unarmed black men and women

Then yesterday happened

Yesterday, I spoke with another black man, my build, equally aware of the threat his body poses He told me he’s losing weight, trimming down to look less intimidating after a coworker made a comment about his size “If I walk up on somebody too fast, they might get scared and I might get shot” he said between the type of laughter used to mask discomfort from painful truths

It was heartbreaking

I thought about how we have to change for a world that refuses to change for us How our blackness and our mass elevates our threat level from orange to red How fed up I am with watching us get shot, lynched, slandered, humiliated, beaten, broken, evicted, denigrated, forgotten, harassed, imprisoned, stereotyped, hated, and appropriated And how inside of me, an anger built by years of being called synonyms for “nigger” began consuming my consciousness

And now that fire fueled by hate has burned away any and all remorse I have, had Now, instead of shrinking under the pressure of docility, I’ve decided I want to be that monster, that Big Black Man™

I want to be so big and so black, you’d rather walk out into traffic than stand by me on the sidewalk

I want to be so big and so black, you look at me and fantasize about how much money a big nigga like me would be worth in 1815’s Georgia

I want to be so big and so black, I remind you of Eric Garner’s last words

I want to be so big and so black, you treat my literacy like a shocking plot twist in an M Night film

I want to be so big and so black, when I ask if you need any help , you say “no” but then “yes” 2 seconds later to the same question asked by my white coworker

I want to be so big and so black, my very existence is resisting arrest

I want to be so big and so black, you forget I’m a human being

I want to be so big and so black, that even in a three piece suit with a Bachelor of Fine Arts degree, I’m still a “thug”

I want to be so big and so black, my success, kindness, warmth, and intelligence startles you into reevaluating your prejudices

I want to be so big and so black, when I look at my reflection, it reminds me I’m a descendant of kings and queens, a legacy of excellence and genius and creativity that shapes American culture That I’m more than your ignorance That I’m a prodigy That I’m two hundred and fuck you pounds of blackness that I’ll never again apologize for