Quick Rant & A Hug for the 92%
This ain't no safe space, and I’m not here to sugarcoat anything.
Sometimes we just need to let it out— I used this space for that. I’m not asking you to excuse me for my raw thoughts, I’m warning you before moving forward. I’m allowed to be angry.
To the 92% of Black women who casted their votes for Kamala Harris, I see you. I feel you. And I stand with you.
Today, I’m pissed.
I’m pissed because rights to our bodies are being snatched away, and it feels like the government doesn’t care if we suffocate under the weight of it. I’m pissed because a convicted felon sits in office while I know real felons who can’t even get a call back at Wendy’s. How the actual hell does that make sense? They throw us into the system, break us down, and then deny us opportunities like it’s some sick joke. Meanwhile, they make decisions for us like we’re invisible. It’s a damn shit show, and I’m over it.
I’m pissed because this man plans to start deportations here in Chicago, and yeah, it hits home. We’re all just trying to survive in a place where we’re treated like outsiders in our own damn country… I mean, I AINT ASK TO BE BROUGHT HERE…... It’s an attack on every Brown and Black body out here. It’s not a “policy,” it’s a declaration that we don’t matter.
And you know what else? I’m pissed because the same people I went to school with, people I’ve grown to love and care for, are out here okay with voting for Trump—or not voting at all. O my Lord— Chicago Public School really failed us because, really? This isn’t just about your beliefs; it’s about the lives of your own people. Your business won’t flourish. Your kids won’t be okay. Your future won’t be okay. This system doesn’t just hurt “them”—it hurts us all. And if you’re too comfortable to see that, then you're part of the problem. This is your world too.
I’ve had enough of being the punching bag of a system that doesn’t give a damn about me.
The work is in the resistance.
I’ve been doing the work all along, and it’s not just about pushing for change in ways that get recognized. It’s about the refusal to accept the way this world treats us. The work is in showing up, even when we’re tired. It’s in fighting back with our voices, our actions, and our energy. But right now? I’m tired. I’m taking it slow today because I’ve been pushing, and honestly, I’m out of steam. I’ve been giving everything I have, but I don’t know if I’ve got more to give right now. And you know what? That’s okay.
The work isn’t just in the fight; it’s in the moments when we allow ourselves to feel everything we’re going through. We don’t have to be “on” every second. We don’t always have to be “strong” or “resilient.” Sometimes, it’s okay to just be human. To feel the weight of everything and admit that it’s a lot. Today, I’m sitting with the anger, hurt, and frustration. But even in the middle of it all, I’ve got a little sprinkle of resilience because, as a Black woman, I will be okay. But that doesn’t mean I’m not tired.
So today, I’m giving myself permission to feel every bit of this moment. I’m not going to hide it. I’m not going to shove it down and pretend like everything is fine when it’s not. This system has been failing us, and I won’t sit here and act like we owe it anything.
For the 92% of Black women who voted for Kamala Harris—we’ve done the work. We didn’t do it for praise. We didn’t do it because we thought we’d get anything in return. We did it because we have to, we’re forced to. We show up, because we know that no one else will. But it’s not enough to just show up anymore. The work is in the resistance. The resistance is in knowing that we deserve more. We’ve earned more. And we’re not settling for anything less.
So if you’re feeling that exhaustion, that defeat, that anger—I’m right there with you. Today, take the time you need. The fight is always going to be there. We’ve earned the space to rest, to feel, and to stand firm in what’s ours.
F that man.
