#fireburned

I know what you mean by “culturally Africanized” white women. White girls wearing signifiers of Black culture - braided hair, hoop earrings, or even literally wearing the flag of a country with African roots, like the Jamaica-loving girl below.

I think there’s a fine line between respectfully adopting signifiers of Black culture and cultural appropriation. Done right, it signals a desire to honor Black culture, maybe including an interest in Black men.

I think there’s something very alluring about wearing signifiers of Black culture, especially flag-inspired clothing. When Europeans went out into the world to conquer far-away lands, they would plant a flag to stake their claim over “unowned land” - in reality land occupied by other people.

There’s something deeply satisfying about donning the flag of an African or African-influenced country, announcing to the world that you’ve been “staked”.

This ask references my story, “The Sins of Her Forefathers”. And it raises an important issue regarding reparations: Considering that Black women have also suffered racial injustice, shouldn’t they also benefit from reparations?

For obvious reasons (I’m straight) my fantasies are focused on interactions between Black men and white women, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t acknowledge the debt owed to Black women as well.

A recurring feature of my fantasies is that although I may be dating a Black man, I will never be more than entertainment for him. I will never get to meet his parents, and when he one day asks a lucky woman to marry him, she will be Black.

Frankly I don’t blame any Black person for feeling some resentment towards whites after this past year - or any other year for that matter. And I do admit that there is something very titillating about turnabout being fair play, if nothing else as a fantasy.

As a white woman I need to acknowledge my role in this. The cop beating up a Black man may be a white man (or even another Black man), but the problem isn’t with the individual cop, it’s with the racism inherent in the system. And as white persons we are all responsible for that, men and women.

So reparations are in order, for past and current injustices. I fantasize about some forms of, let’s call it “carnal compensation”. Not mandated directly - Black men are attractive and we don’t need a law telling us that - but indirectly by changing the cultural and societal conditions that influence behavior.

As a white woman my primary concern shouldn’t be how to pack even more into my 401(k). My primary concern should be on the injustices committed against Blacks and on what I can do to make up for it.

Marching in a Black Lives Matter protest is a good way of making up for your white privilege. Preferably a protest where as a white person you have to walk in the back, only getting up in front if there’s a clash with the police.

Having to shut up and listen for once, being reminded that while BLM protesting is just an Insta-worthy elective for you as a white person, it’s a matter of life and death for your Black co-protesters. They can’t just return to their normal lives when the protest is over.

Another way to make up for your white privilege is getting a Black boyfriend. I’m not saying that dating a white girl is inherently better for a Black man than dating a Black girl. Just, you know, make sure he has the option.

Maybe be a little more adventurous than you would be with a white boyfriend. Let your Black boyfriend try things in bed that you wouldn’t normally be into. If it helps take his mind off the last baseless stop-and-frisk procedure he had to endure, it’s the least you owe him.

Touch Starved Prompts ; 👫 - holds my muse’s hand ; accepting ;  fireburned

he shouldn’t be as bothered by the stares as he is at the moment. it’s not the first time he goes out since gaining his powers, but this instance was important. ONLY THE TWO OF THEM. no kurt or jubilee or any of their friends, it was the two of them and it bothered scott how some people kept staring back. and they couldn’t possibly be looking and whispering about her, no. it was about him. the glasses. how odd and clunky they were. but her hand takes hold of his own and forces him to look down at intertwined digits, head turn to look up and smiling. “smooth move, jean grey.” and he teases over, giving her hand a gentle squeeze before looking away. “come on, the diner is just over there.”