Observations of an Invisible Woman

Archive for the category “Black women”

Open Discussion #2

Ok…it’s that time again. Anything on your mind, kiddies? Let it out. Anything you want. Here’s what I was thinking last night when I watched the Fastest Woman Alive Track Meet. The woman who won, an islander, said her grandma went online and saw hate mail directed at her:

“She looks like a man!”

“She’s probably cheating!”

“Damn Jamaicans!”


Guys, is it my imagination or is the instant media, like Twitter and Facebook, invented for evil?

Finish this Sentence #2

If I was going to die tomorrow, my last meal would be…

I’ll go first…I’d eat a porterhouse steak, well done…garlic mashed potatoes, baby carrots and a vintage Cabernet.

What would you eat?

Hair Envy Part 2.

Look at this:

And this:

And, even though her real hair looks like this:

On film, she must look like this:

Since I do not watch much TV, if at all, my friend was kind enough to send me this:

African hair, both threatening and terrifying to whites, must be tamed, controlled and made to look more like “them” if you wish to be famous or even employed. I can’t even count the numerous times my potential employers have peeked at my natural, curly, low cut Afro and blinked. I wear my hair 100% natural all the time. And when it was long, I looked like her:

Can you imagine the discomfort I created showing up to a predominately white hospital looking like that? One white woman, after much staring, actually asked me how do I wash it. With Head and Shoulders!!!!

Since blacks, in the eyes of white AmeriKlan, are considered savages, our hair is but an extension of our animalistic nature. By wearing false hair,( sold to us by Koreans…not even our OWN people ) made to look closer to white hair, it eases the tension (minimally) whites feel when in our presence.

{Side note: Since blacks are brainwashed to hate themselves by the Power of White Propaganda:

the U.S. Government gives Koreans and other Asians loans and grants to sell us our own products so the black dollar will leave our pockets every 10-15 minutes. Make no mistake about it, it was planned. This enriches their culture and leaves the black culture even poorer. This ingenious and diabolical strategy was done after the bombing of Tulsa, OK when the black dollar circulated for at LEAST 15 times within the black community. No wonder we were millionaires! The government, under the Wilson Administration, understood how important it was to dissuade blacks from supporting their own stores run by their own people. That’s why today, most black products, like hair creme, clothing, accessories etc, is run primarily by NON-BLACKS.}

This is not a criticism of my sisters who wear wigs / weaves / have processed hair…but a study on our hair and how it relates to whites and our culture. Tell me something and of course be honest; If Michelle Obama sported this look:

How do you think the AmeriKlan public would react?

When Madam CJ Walker:

Invented this tool:

Do you think she did it out of the “ease and management” of our kinky/coarse/curly hair? Or was there a Eurocentric motive behind it? And why is this product apart of a multi-BILLION dollar industry?

Do you think hair is important as a representation of black culture? How? Do you agree with weaves? Why or why not? Do you have natural hair? If yes, why go natural and not relaxed? And even if you disagree with my post, do you believe that whites find our hair in its natural state “terrifying?”

Dear Diary… #2

Last night I cleaned out my junk drawer and found the business card that I should’ve thrown out years ago. It was from my very first professional job interview. I was a new grad and eager and desperate to land my first job. I drove to a little upstate New York hospital after having a dynamite phone interview. We hit it off straight way. I dazzled him with my personality and even though he knew I was a novice, he welcomed me to meet him face to face.

Nervous and wanting to make a good impression, I picked up a large box of doughnuts, bagels and coffee from the local coffee shack. When I entered the building, I swear, movement slowed down. All of a sudden, people just turned around to openly stare at me. It was then that I knew just how very black I was.

The receptionist looked…uneasy as I approached her. Remembering my Rules of Talking to White People Manual, I smiled at her. I told her I was here to see Mr. X, from the Nursing Department. She made no move or sound. I explained that he was expecting me. She stammered, ” Have a seat, uh, miss, and I’ll let him know you’re here.”

I sat down and scanned the room. I was the only black face there.


I began to notice how everyone that walked by me was trying ever so carefully not to look at me. It was then that Mr. X walked up to me, shuffled his feet and said tentatively, ” Miss Truthbetold?” I nodded and offered him my brightest smile and extended my hand to shake. He hesitated before accepting it. We walked down this narrow corridor and I noticed that not one person who passed by looked at me directly. You know that old Urban Legend: If you look directly at a Negress, you’ll turn to dust?

I sat down when prompted and pulled out my meager resume. I was shaking. I knew that this would not end well. I felt his “vibe” all over me. He looked at my resume and said he was sorry but the department needed an experienced person. They couldn’t train anyone new. I felt defeated And for a reason that I could not explain…ashamed. I wanted to cry but stubbornly I kept my eyes dry and voice even.

“OK. Well, thanks for your time.” I got up to leave and half expected him to say something reassuring. He said nothing. I got in my car and the dam burst. I cried for allowing myself to feel the exhilaration of hope. I cried for the hate stares I received that penetrated me. For the lies he told…he knew damn well I was a novice. I cried for wasting my gas to drive up to that damn racist place. I cried for the way my blackness made everyone uncomfortable. I cried for my weakness and my curse that will never be lifted. I cried in despair. I cried in rage. I cried in fear of never finding a job.

I cried because I am black.

I drove home with a deeper understanding of what it means to be black in AmeriKlan. No college course could ever teach me that. I would no longer doubt that I was imagining things when I felt that “vibe” coming from whites. I would no longer doubt that AmeriKlan hated me for no other reason than the colour of my skin. And perhaps, most importantly, I would never again allow anyone to diminish my Black Pride. With each toll booth that passed, my depression lifted and became defiant rage. I thought about this unknown, uneasy feeling I’ve had my whole life. It was called Blackness. And now, I knew its name.

What was your first job related racist experience?

Why So Few Black Women Marry White Men

*deep breath*

This will be a hard post, so being the woman that I am, I’m going to dive in with both feet.

Why are so few black women marrying white men? Is it because black women find white men unattractive? No. I don’t think so. In fact, to be brutally honest, I find this man sexy as hell:

But…as sexy as Mr. Bale is, if he was available and wanted me and was a “regular guy”, I would never marry him. Why? Fear. Simple fear.

But Truthbetold, what fear are you talking about?”

My Supposition:

1. In every black woman, whether or not she admits it or is AWARE of it, lies a deep seated fear that one day, the white man that she marries, the father of her children, the man that she built her life with, the man that celebrated her birthday, job promotion and summer home purchase, the man that held her close when she cried, the man that made sweet passionate love to her, will suddenly one day, during a heated fight, which all couples have, open his mouth and call her a nigger. And it will destroy her.

2. Black women, being the subject of the master’s rape fetish, will equate intimacy with a white man to the master’s subjugation.

3. They are not attracted to them emotionally or spiritually.

4. They fear repercussions of the supremacist system.

5. They fear repercussions and ridicule of the white man’s family and friends and their family and friends.

6. They feel they cannot “compete” with white women.

7. They genuinely love their black man and can’t see themselves with a white man.

8. They feel white men are “emotionally empty.”

9. They think white men will not desire them as “wife” material.

10. They are simply not interested.


This post hurt. A lot. It was hard to write and the comments will be brutal but…in my goal to understand and conquer white supremacy, I will never stop exploring the sickness of it.

Any thoughts?

The Great White Hope

Look at this couple:

Notice a trend? I’m seeing a lot of good-looking, well-to-do, black men who date, consistently, obese white women. I never really paid attention to this phenomenon. In fact, I really don’t give a shit. It was my friend X, that I went to visit in NYC, that called it to my attention. We were strolling along Washington Square Park, looking at the jugglers and the break dancers, when she said, “Hey…look there…another one.” Another what, I wondered?

Another brother with his fat, white girlfriend. Boy, they don’t even care anymore to go for the pretty, white girls…as long as she’s white, they’ll bow down and grab her. Self-hating Negro.”  I stopped gobbling my Mango Gelato, turned and looked at her in slow motion and wondered if she was correct. Hmmm…maybe she’s on to something here. I have seen this plenty of times before but didn’t really stop to think about it. Why do some black men date and marry obese white women? This is seldom seen in the world of celebrities. Rich, good-looking black men will only date slender, blonde, stunningly good-looking white women. Some theories as to why:

1. Self hatred is a funny thing. When you,  a black man, look into the eyes of your black woman, you’ll see every fear, hope, disappointment and sorrow life has to offer. After all, she is the other half of your Negro self. A white woman has the ability to make you feel “better” about being unemployed, broke, dark-skinned, having prominent features and being uneducated. She is your “insurance” that someday you, the black man, will be accepted into white high society. Being with her elevates you to that “other level” you’ve been striving for your whole life.

2. An obese and unattractive white woman is considered to be amongst the dregs of white society. Her own white man will not have her. She, in her need to be adored, chooses the one man who is desperate enough to adore her simply for the colour of her skin and his own insecurities.

3. When a wealthy black man has “made it“, a black woman is no longer considered to be on his “level“. He must do as they do, walk as they walk and have what they have if he is to be on the same playing field.

4. They are, in simple terms, in love.

Now, I don’t believe that every black man who prefers white women does this out of hate for his black women. There are many reasons why this occurs. Preference may be one of them. I asked a black male friend once why he likes blondes. His answer was, ” Truth, why do you like pistachio ice cream?” I answered, ” Because…I just do.” His response, ” Same here.”

What are your thoughts?

Why Horror Movies Are Made For White People

Picture it:

It’s a dark and stormy night. You’re all alone. Perhaps your husband/boyfriend has left for that business meeting in Boston and you’ll be alone for the entire weekend. You order pizza, pop open a bottle of your favorite wine…take a nice lavender-scented bath and get ready to watch a girlish movie when….the phone rings.

Hello?“, you say. Nothing. “Hello?” Not one sound. You hang up and shrug. You pop in Thelma and Louise and the phone rings again. “Hello?” All you hear is breathing….then….”I’m coming to kill you…” in a terrifying, raspy voice. You blink, your brow furrows and you ask, “Steve? Is that you…?”

No…..it’s not Steve, dammit! It’s NEVER Steve!!! Steve wouldn’t call you from Boston and tell you that he’s going to kill you. And if he did, then you need a new boyfriend!

You know why horror movie producers, writers, directors and casting agents employ predominately white actors? Because if that was a black girl, she’d get the fuck out the house already! There wouldn’t be a movie! She’d check her caller ID, dial *69 and know better than to ass-u-me that Steve is playing a prank from Boston.

Ever see Scream with the Drew Barrymore character? Why was she talking to him? Why are you answering a total stranger and telling him that you are alone in the house? But really, folks, why do horror movie writers make white women stupid, helpless, big-breasted damsels who always fall down during a tense chasing scene? Even Jamie Lee Curtis fell whilst Michael Meyers was chasing her…and she outsmarted him!

One possibility is white women being terrorized, beaten and violated adheres to the White Male Fantasy. Remember I Spit On Your Grave? A vile film but it shows my point. A woman being subjugated to the whims of a group of derelicts. A fantasy of utter control. Another possibility is since whites are the default in AmeriKlan, all they hope to see being represented in the movies is themselves. Plus, the imagery of a beautiful, blonde, voluptuous damsel in distress( Hitchcock anyone? ) makes you root for her. While a black woman being terrorized makes you root for her killer ( Scream 2 with Mrs. Pinkett-Smith ). Sympathy for the white woman is a big box office draw….Look at Jodie Foster in The Accused. Everyone was rooting for her rapists to get nailed by the court system. Do you think if the Jodie Foster character was played by the well-toned Angela Bassett, people would empathize and want justice? I think not. I believe the word is called apathy.

You see it all the time. Countless movies with white women who have overcome all odds with a mysterious stranger wanting to kill her and the audience walks away feeling good. “Wow! That was a great movie! I must tell Susan to go see it!” But when it’s us getting murdered…”Hmmmmm???…Oh, yeah…well….it’s just a movie.”

Fat and Black: Obesity in AmeriKlan

We need to talk. This is getting worse. And not because I love black people doesn’t mean I won’t be honest. The master, in his graciousness, gave us the food that he didn’t want. If you were a House Negro, that meant eating what he ate. Field Negroes, on the other hand, had to fend for themselves. They ate leftovers of pigs, cows, rabbits and sometimes, snakes. You know the leftovers as innards or chitterlings. We, being the Original Peoples of the Earth, used natural spices like pepper, salt(as a preservative…a post on the origin of high blood pressure to come), “bush” a.k.a. oregano, peppermint, bay leaves, etc…to make the flavour of this strange new food go down a little easier. We mastered the outdoor cookery whites claim they invented and called “barbecue” and used fruit juice and brown sugar a.k.a. “granny’s molasses” to spice up ham, chicken and alligator.

Food, being the essence of life, became imperative. And working out in the fields for 15 hours with the overseer waiting to pounce, made the black man’s tummy rumble…hard. So we ate. And ate. And ate. For blacks, food is love. When you visit granny and she has a sweet potato pie in the oven sprinkled with cinnamon, it takes you back to your childhood when she would cook on an outdoor oven. For blacks, food…is everything. And that’s the problem. Eating with a vengeance was necessary to maintain one’s strength on the plantation.

Well, we ain’t on the plantation no more. But we sure eat like it! Being pushed into the ghettos via white flight, with little resources like fresh farmer’s markets, home-grown vegetables and “granny’s bush tea” that cures damn near everything, we ate, drank and smoked what was available to us. Fast food. Liquor. Menthol cigarettes(A post yet to come on blacks and Big Tabacco).

All apart of “The Plan”

Food, like heroin, is a drug. When you try to find a job and you’re told nothing’s available, it adds to your sorrow for you know works exists…just not for you. So you eat. When you want to buy a house in your neighbourhood of choice and you’re told that there are no available homes, it adds to your disappointment, for you know a house exists…just not for you. So you eat. And when you see someone else get that promotion that you were qualified for because they are “friendly” with the boss, it adds to your stress…So you eat. And keeping things real..this economy isn’t helping our situation. All apart of “The Plan.” And please read “The Fear”

I hate statistics. They are always skewered because they are written by white men on our behalf, which is why I hardly use them. I did research last night and came up with this:

Recent reports show that substantial differences exist in obesity prevalence by race/ethnicity, and these differences vary by sex and age. For example, according to 2005–2008 data from the National Health and Nutrition Examination Survey, 51% of non-Hispanic black women aged 20 years or older were obese, compared with 43% of Mexican Americans and 33% of whites. Among females aged 2–19 years, 24% of non-Hispanic blacks, 19% of Mexican Americans, and 14% of whites were obese. Efforts are being made to reduce these disparities by focusing interventions on subgroups with high prevalence of obesity.

Source: CDC 2011

If this is indeed true…what could be some of the underlying factors?

1. Poor education about diet and exercise

2. Being “thick” is sexy and womanly in the black culture. If you’re a man, you are a “teddy bear”

3. Granny says, “Clean your plate. There are starving kids in Africa!”

4. Being naturally big-boned(not all of us but enough)

5. Just being plain lazy about exercise

6. Poverty…This is HUGE! Ever go to Foodmart and see all the fried, frozen foods that are marked 10 for $5.00 while the fresh zucchini is 3.99/lb? Ever wonder why food stamps and WIC will pay for certain items and NOT for others? Hmmmm……

7. Big business PURPOSEFULLY develops fast food joints in low-income neighbourhoods whilst wealthier white neighbourhoods ALWAYS have “natural foods” markets.

8. Food is “love”

9. ” We’ve always eaten like this in my family!”

10. “We just don’t know what else to eat!”

Guess what? Keep eating like that and diabetes, hypertension, stroke, heart attacks and congestive heart failure is just around the corner. And remember folks, we also do not have access to decent healthcare. In fact, many Coloureds in AmeriKlan are uninsured…so I dare you to tell me something isn’t “going on.” Guys, I want the best for you. But I can’t help you if you don’t help yourselves. So get off the couch, stop buying sodas or, if you MUST,  drink them in extreme moderation, take a walk, park at the furthest space and walk an extra 1/8 of a mile, if the money will allow, buy a treadmill for colder weather, drink WATER, not fruit punch ( sugar causes depression ), don’t use extra salt…in fact, just sprinkle on Mrs. Dash with fresh herbs and fresh pepper and call it a day. Fast food should be a once in-a-while treat, like ice cream. When you are finished eating, put the plate away so you don’t pick…and tell grandma you’ll only have one helping of Pecan Pie. And walk, walk, walk. Africans are natural walkers and runners…let’s get back to that.

Please pass this around to all brown people. Education matters.

Dear Diary #1

I got a phone call last night from X, a white ex-classmate of mine. I was surprised to hear from her. We weren’t that close. She told me that she found the piece of paper in her address book that had my number on it and she felt the urge to call me. I listened as she explained how she felt regarding an incident that had happened when we worked and studied together.

When we were students, we ended up in the same hospital for our clinical rotation. It was a monstrous hospital, ever growing and very hard to get into. She, being a blonde from Staten Island, fitted in nicely with the other girls who loved to talk about TV shows, waxing their eyebrows and dumb things their boyfriends did.

Me, being black, working class, from NYC, who prefered books to TV and never revealed anything too personal…well…you know the rest. To say I stuck out like a sore thumb was putting it mildly. There was a tension in the room at all times whenever I was present. I now know that the name of that tension is called, “White Anxiety“. There was this one Italian girl, let’s call her Y, who hated the sight of me. Y did everything in her power to fuck me up. From giving me wrong information about policies and procedures, banning me from entering the patient’s room( that’s how we learned pertinent exams…from observing ) and…finally, writing a letter to the administration team of my school, imploring them not to let me graduate. I was written, in great detail, to be: Absent( 2 times in my entire internship ), argumentative, defiant, slow, aggressive and as someone who will “never make it.”

I cried openly the day when I was summoned to the administrator’s office. School was expensive and we didn’t have the money to begin with. They wondered what had happened to cause this woman to say such atrocious things about my character especially when I had gotten good reviews everywhere else. I pondered the consequences of telling the truth. I lied. I said I don’t know. From the look on his face, I knew that he didn’t believe me. The thing that stuck out for me, was this girl X. The same girl who witnessed my pain and suffering but said nothing. She saw and heard…but turned the blind eye. I’m not mad. Her education and career was on the line too. As you can guess, I did graduate and eventually moved on to my career.

So…why the phone call from X? It was to tell me that the day she found my number on the crumpled piece of paper, guilt hit her and she couldn’t sleep. She explained how she wanted to say something in my defense but nerves and fear won out over doing the “right thing.” She said she was sorry for all the things that happened and wishes now, that she, a mother of a black boy and wife to a black man, had spoken out on racism in the workplace. She asked me to forgive her for something so potent, so dangerous yet so widespread…silence.

Sure, X. No problem. That was ages ago. But now that your eyes are finally opened…please…next time…speak.

Why White Women Keep Silent When Michelle Obama is Being Attacked

When I hear Rush Limbaugh spewing hatred at my favorite lady, I wait patiently to see the barrage of white democratic women who call themselves feminists who will no doubt come to her rescue.


Maybe they’re all waiting for the right time to strike down Mr. Limbaugh. After all, in AmeriKlan, girls are a minority too. Any moment now…..



Perhaps the reason why they keep silent is because they’re happy to see her verbally assaulted.

History Lesson:

Not only are white women oppressed (being a woman means they’re a minority) but being white means that they can be racists but don’t have to own up to it the way a man would. See, white women, being the ****cough**** delicate creatures that they are, are shielded from any wrongdoing, blame, evilness and accountability.

Their only purpose, historically, is to be the decorative ornament to appease the white man, sexually (if his slave was unavailable) and politically (as a trophy wife; Donald Trump knows about this quite a bit).

The slave stole all the master’s time and affections. The master would leave his perfectly adorned wife, in her pretty nightgown, to fornicate with his slaves. After many, many copulations, he spawned a brood of young ‘uns that needed even more of his time. The neglected wife, in her rage and vengefulness, would copulate with the biggest, strongest, blackest Field Negro she could find.

This passive-aggressive act was done to hurt her man, hurt the concubine (for she bedded her man) and to show her power. That being said….

When Michelle Obama is being attacked and NOT ONE white woman opens her mouth to say, “But…”, that too is a passive-aggressive act done out of vengefulness. Add to the fact that defending a black woman who isn’t worthy of being defended may hurt her husband’s chances of political victory. When the Limbaugh/Fluke fiasco occurred, women and men jumped from far and away to defend Ms. Fluke’s right for conception. Women lambasted Rush and his sponsors fled, fearing political backlash and claims of misogyny. When Nancy Reagan told AmeriKlan’s to “Just Say NO!”, AmeriKlans applauded her gutsy speeches, her fierceness for wanting to tackle AmeriKlan’s problem with drugs pushers. ( Actually, Ameriklan wouldn’t have a problem with drug pushers if they didn’t need to take drugs…but why tell them that? After all, this country was built on Puritanical beliefs.***cough, cough***)

How dare Mrs. Obama, with her stunning good looks and Ivy League education dare say a word about kids eating more vegetables? How dare she try to grow a vegetable garden? And less soda? Are you kidding me? Sarah, I-love-to-kill-moose, Palin says, ” Let them eat S’mores!” What does she know? A black woman telling white AmeriKlan how to eat properly? She’s only married to some African guy with an ordinary job.

Who is she? Oh…yeah…a black woman.

Dear Maury…I Hate Your Show

Dear Mr. Povich,

If you are reading this, I wanted to let you know that you, along with Jerry Springer, have single-handedly caused white AmeriKlans to delve deeper into the belief of all racial stereotypes about blacks. Mr. Povich, seeing how you’re from Washington, D.C., a place with approximately 48% blacks, I find it hard to believe that every black person you’ve met has the name Jacqueshia, is obese, a high school dropout, unattractive, speaks Ebonics, lives in the ghetto, is on food stamps whilst driving a BMW, wears Baby Phat, has a TON of gold jewelry (some of which is worn in the mouth), sells crack for a living, pimps, prostitutes and has over 200 lovers by the age of 10 and needs a paternity test to determine the child’s biological father.

I know that Paramount Television pays you handsomely for telling these lies. But I implore you, what about your conscience? How do you sleep at night knowing that you, an educated white man is apart of the vicious systematic betrayal, downfall and poisoning of the black image? Being educated, and Jewish, I’ll bet my bottom dollar that you’ve had issues with AmeriKlans too. Why help them perpetuate this stereotype that just won’t die? Would you have victims of acid burning come on your show and say, ” Well ladies, next time, don’t put onions in the sauce. You know your husband hates it?”

Mr. Povich, my mother tells me, Truthbetold, love of money is the root of ALL evil! And how right she is! I know your show is meant for entertainment purposes only, but here in AmeriKlan, whites believe anything that shows blacks in a negative light. It serves as a conformation that grandpa was right about “those people.”

I also want you to know that I know( FOR A FACT) that your guests are actors. A starving actor, desperate to get his/her first big break will do just about anything to eat and pay the rent. Yes, the burden lies partially on them but more on you. You’re already rich. You should be using your money and fame to fight evil, not condone it. I’m ashamed of you. And, truthfully, you should be ashamed of yourself.




Your show blows!

Why I write…

My friend X asked me today, Truthbetold, why do you write? What does it do for you?

Well….let me explain, folks. First, being a black woman, I’m always sitting in the back of the bus. I was born with two strikes against me. Female and coloured. No one cares to listen to anything I have to say. I don’t matter. Society told me so since age 10. So I write to keep sane, to keep the fires burning, to continue this long and arduous process of un-brainwashing myself from the damages done by AmeriKlan society.

But Truthbetold, he says, aren’t you worried that white (and some blacks) people are going to read your many, many rantings and get mad? Are you crazy??? I want them to read it! Whites are as affected by black racism as we are. They are the originators of it. Therefore, they are the crux of the problem. I feel that I write not so much for my black readers but the white racist ones. Which is probably all of AmeriKlan.

This blog is my $150.00 an hour therapy session. I NEED it. I see racism everywhere. Being the invisible woman that I am, not one person makes an attempt to correct it. Because they don’t give a fuck. They’re not affected by it so why change it? Also, consider that they don’t want change because it benefits them.

Well I do give a fuck. This is as much my country as it is theirs. And till racism is dead, I’ll keep on ranting.

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