Why Barack Obama was the Worst Thing to Happen to Black Radicalism, and the Increasing Dangers of Black Neoliberalism
For as long as I can remember, Barack Obama’s ascent to the White House has been described as revolutionary. The day of the inauguration, Black people all over America cried, laughed, danced, at the reality of a Black man, the first ever, sitting in the White House seat where 43 white men previously sat. I danced too. I was in the fourth grade, and we celebrated with an Obama party. …
I was born in 1998, right on the cusp of Gen Z. I’m old enough to remember the exciting scramble of dial up, or the deep tenor of the “You’ve got mail!” AOL notification. Things like Motorola Razrs and Tamagotchis and MP3 players, or when the Nintendo Wii came out that one Christmas, or having to hit a button three times to get one letter to text. Things like being indoctrinated with a love for the fallacy of the nearly-impossible-to-achieve Black American dream.
Born on the sunrise of a new generation, my peers and I grew up ingesting the stories…
Anti-Blackness and racism are not the same
In ninth grade, my best friend at my primarily White, all-girls Catholic high school was a bubbly Latina with an unmatched, sarcastic tit-for-tat, a raucous laugh, and a flexible tongue that switched from her recognizable New York lilt into Spanish at will. In my 14-year-old Afro-Guyanese eyes, we were very alike, and we spent every free moment we had in school together. For four years, we took the bus home together, painted our nails the same colors, and filmed video diaries of our adventures to show our future kids. We took classes together. Ate breakfast together. Ate lunch together. Studied…
