The Weight of Blood

by Tiffany D. Jackson

“You look like you have a painted Brillo pad on your head.” That was what Papa would’ve said if he were standing over her. The words echoed through the chambers of her memories.

She was scrolling through her nudes, trying to decide which one to send her boyfriend, when she happened to glance up at the door.

Lmfao no way

What if Kenny started acting like them? she thought. What would people think? And what would people say about her? Other than Jules’s crude comments about Kenny’s potential dick size, no one really made a big deal about her dating a Black guy.

Lmfao wtf

“You’re also pushing this so you can look like the perfect little ‘white ally,’ thinking that’s gonna make my brother stay with you as he rises to the top. You trying to look like you were always down, the woke bae we invite to the barbecue. This whole charade is all about you!”

“You wanna help Black people? How about you start by actually helping them instead of just helping yourself?”

Clock it

Your bloodline was marinated in rage. There will be pain in carrying this dark secret. A pain you must endure for others and for yourself. This sickly power you hold without hands will eventually burn until you no longer can hide it. You must learn to control it. Or it will control you. But be not a doormat. You can ease the pain by leaving all that you know. Become so drunk on life and love that it blinds you to the hate threatening to drown you. Chew on grief for breakfast, devour aches for lunch, inhale life’s acid, let it burn the costume he has forced upon you.

“Segregation ended in 1964, and yet this town is carrying on like it’s STILL 1964. Treating Black people like second-class citizens they only want to interact with when it suits their needs.”

& stillllll

“What is this?” Maddy gasped, horrified. “This is what you’re not allowed to see. The school system pulled this out of the curriculum. Parents complained it was ‘too disturbing.’ Probably worried someone will recognize their grandpa’s or mother’s face.” “Why are they hitting them like that?” “These men were called the Greensboro Four. They were doing a ‘sit in’ to protest the racial segregation policy at a store’s lunch counter.” Maddy frowned. “But why were they sitting where they weren’t supposed to?” “Because sometimes you have to, like John Lewis said, ‘Get into good trouble, necessary trouble,’ for your voice to be heard.”

“It wasn’t always gospel hymns and peaceful marches. The civil rights movement was a battle in the war against racism. People risked their lives to fight for equality.

Papa jumped back. “Eh! Lord in Heaven!” Maddy kept her head straight and perfectly still . . . with the tiniest smirk on her face.

Lmao that’s good bitch

“GET IN YOUR CLOSET!” “NO! I’m not going in that fucking closet again! I’m going to that dance, and you’re not going to stop me. Try it and you’ll never have a left arm again!”

Finally I’m sick of this bitch ass man

Kenny walked into his room and spotted the copy of The Autobiography of Malcolm X peeking out from under his pillow. The sight of it made his nostrils flare.

“I see you folded the pages with Malcolm dating a white girl. Nice. Real subtle.” She shrugged. “Just giving you historical examples of what to watch out for.” “Wendy’s not like that. Aye, why you gotta be so mean to her? She takes care of me. Supports me! What she ever do to you?”

LMFAOOOO PERIOD

She’d singlehandedly started the snowball that would eventually ruin Jules’s life. Payback is sweeter than honey.

Lmfaooooo

Were her lips always this dry? Were her hips always this stiff? Were—

Yes you were being stupid.