The Black Girl in the Room

Alright, so here’s the deal.  I do occasionally write open letters to myself about stuff that pisses me off now and then and I sign them “The Black Girl in the Room.”  Why sign it that way?

I work in the environmental field, which is a predominantly white field, I went to Catholic school kindergarten through high school, and then went to a Jesuit grad school, so I’m pretty used to being the only black person in the room.  There are things here and there where I’ve always felt uncomfortable, and there’s one coming up: Black History Month.  At my Catholic school this was always when they decided to talk about the slavery aspect of American history.  It was awkward.  Why the fuck not weave this shit into the rest of the cirriculum?  Growing up in Virginia  makes it ok to pretend history was awesome? Why do we get the shortest month, man?? Well, we get leap year this year at least.

Anyway, instead of just venting to myself, I figured I’d vent to myself and the internet.  Fun, right?  No one will eeever see this.  So enjoy, y’all.

Thanks (and this should always be read thaaanks like the episode of South Park where the self-righteous Prius owners doom the Earth with their smug),

The Black Girl in the Room


About ckstackhouse

Author of suspense books, creative consultant, blogger on culture and publishing.
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