Where do I begin.
The day started out like any other. I checked my Facebook. Running Fat Chef, had an interesting post. She usually does. I have followed her, for a while. She’s a runner and athlete, not skinny. She is powerful and outspoken. I relate to a lot of her posts, about comments from people, concerning her body. I use to experience similar critiques, in my running days.
She mentioned the term “crabs in a barrel”; which I know as “crabs in a bucket”. When I first learned this term, I was in college. It was showed to us on a film. When you place, crabs in a bucket, if one tries to climb out, all of the other crabs will try to pull them back down.
The message I got from this is, don’t let them get you. Pull yourself up and over.
I earned a B.F.A.. My paintings were out of the box. When I graduated, my piece in the senior show, stole the limelight. People were angry. It was controversial, and if I do say so, it was good. I had to work hard to not let people sway me. The same as when I worked as a plumber, in the 70’s. I was told constantly, “Why don’t you get a job, in an office?” I got my master’s license and then became uninterested. I’ve always surfed. Women did not surf. I was berated as a youngster, for this endeavor. Seems strange now, but that’s the way it was, in the sixties. I left the country. (getting the hell away from people) Zero help from friends and family. I asked my mother if she would get my mail. She promptly told me, if I wanted my mail, to stay home. I went to Costa Rica, not realizing, the world was going to be, on my heels. It goes on and on.
Anyway, I know how people want you to be like them. Often it’s, with a job, in debt, out of shape, etc.
So, when Running Fat Chef, mentioned “crabs in a barrel”, and she said she thought it was a disgusting term, I asked her why.
Whoa!!! Did I ever step into a pile of shit.
I was told to mind my p’s and q’s. And that white women should be silent and listen. My internal response was WTF. I was told by another woman, on this thread, that I was being an ass. WHAT?
It was just a question. And I was being assaulted, by an angry mob of white women. I was viewed as being antagonistic to the Chef. Who is way to cool to ever behave like these whiney women. They see me one way, I see them another. Who the hell are they to critique my question. They were doing the same thing to me that the Chef talks about people doing to her. I told that woman to mind her own business. Nothing like a good, misunderstood barrage of crap, on the internet.
Of course, the Running Fat Chef, explained her perspective, and I PM’d her my thanks, and commented on some other posts. Like the one where she is in a pink sports bra and she gets asked, “Where is your shirt?” —– some people —
Anyway, the woman that gave me this joystick beat down, is as white as the glaze on a Dunkin Donut’s donut. She’s from New Mexico, and she’s a mental health counselor. Her goal in life is to spread joy.
I guess part of that is through policing Running Fat Chef’s page.
She said she thought I was a fragile individual. If she only knew.
I am as shattered as Tiffany glass, tossed from the edge of an empty septic tank.
If you believe that, you will believe anything.
I said good-bye to Running Fat Chef.
It’s the same as my beloved neighborhood. All these whiteys are ruining my day.
I thought it was time I let y’all know that I am black.
Thank God the truth has come out.
The truth will set you free, but first it will make you very nervous.