Open Letter to Black Men

To my Brothers,

Being black has always been one of things that defined me the most. It permeates everything that I am. From my hair choices to my career choice. Even whom I wanted to date and someday marry. Oh how I pictured my wedding. It was a grand day filled with bridesmaid in white carrying yellow orchids. Me in my yellow wedding dress just like the dress Belle wore when she danced with the Beast. Disney knows how to design a wedding I will tell you. And as I walked down the isle. My love, my king would turn to look at me. And he was you. He was a black man. He always was.

But then the realities of the dating jungle shattered my wedding dreams. I found myself and many of my nubian sisters on the bottom of the dating totem pole. Being black and being on the bottom is certainly nothing new, but having you, our black kings, putting us there and even working to keep us there hurt. It hurts something deep in my core that no one but you can touch.

We started out together. Both of us in chains and bondage. Both of us started at the bottom. Both of us died in the fields and at the hands of our masters. Our way of life and culture were stripped from us. Our babes were snatched from our breasts to be sold to the highest bidder. We had to marry in secret and pray that master wouldn't make me his belly warmer. And we held out for the day we would taste the sweet nectar of freedom. Some of you had been sold away from us and once we got free we searched for you. With our children strapped to our backs and all our worldly possessions in our hands. Some of us found you, many of us didn't, we had to settle down when we couldn't walk anymore. And we had to learn to make do for ourselves and our children.

Those of us that managed to find you were jubilant. But it was short lived as you had to go off and earn money where you could find paid work. You told us to stay home and hold down the fort and we did. While you joined the building of the railroad or took on "paid" work on the defunct southern farms. We raised our children and kept our communities alive. We grew strong and took on jobs in the homes of wealthy families, but we were always home to keep the fire going for your return. While you were away we learned how to take care of the family. We learned how to play catch with our son while we taught our daughter how to sew and cook. And when you came back we were running the house, not to depose you but because we had to learn to survive without you.

Now you laugh and scorn us. You complain that we are too independent and don't know how to treat a man. You sneer at our children and call them bastards. You lift your noses at are natural hairstyles and unadorned faces. You make fun of our traditionally African names. You debase our dark skin.

I've tried to date you. Lord knows I've tired. Despite that fact that you constantly compare my unwillingness for sexual adventure to the prowess and 101 sexual postions of White and Asian women. Irregardless of the tightening of your jaw when I had to put someone in their place with my typical neck rolling and finger pointing. Never mind the fact that though we both receive government assistant I am cast aside as the bane of society because I should be able to fend for myself. And Lord forbid I turn to you. Though you scoff at independent nature you loath me for asking you for helping.

You won't forgive us for not being white.

And though I consider myself a fighter, a damned good one. I was tired of fighting that battle. I was tired of trying to defend my blackness to you. I was tired of trying to be the submissive, docile, freak in the sheets and a woman the streets, Superwoman that you were looking for.

I was tired of trying to tone down my blackness and open my mind to the white side of life. I'm sorry, but I simply do not like anal sex and I shouldn't be subjected to the charge that "white girls do it and love it." I'm not sorry if I like to go to the club and have a man buy me a drink. I'm not sorry if I like getting my education to one day make more money than you (not the purpose of my degrees, but money is nice). I'm not sorry that I liked to have my car door opened some nights and other nights I want to hop behind the wheel of the car I'm paying for. I'm not sorry that I don't want to dress up as a French maid. And i'm not sorry that I want a marriage commitment from you before I allow you to take me to bed.

I am not sorry that I expect you to comfort me when I need a shoulder to cry on or to give me space when I need to be alone to fume. I am not sorry that I want you to protect me when there is a snake in the middle of the road and we are in the car. Fear makes me silly that way. I am not sorry that I have to wrap my hair at night and that you can't run your fingers through it. I am not sorry that sometimes getting my nails and toes done is more important than my cell phone bill.

I'm not sorry that when I get animated I got loud and rowdy. I'm not sorry that sometimes my temper runs away with me and I would rather settle an argument with a barrage of insults rather than calming words. I'm not sorry that when times got rough I had to take government assistance while it seemed like I was living large with my discounted Prada bags.

I'm a flea market supporter by the way.

I am sorry that you allowed the world to tell you things about me before you got to know me. I am not sorry that I am done apologizing about being the unique and wonderful black woman that I am. Which is the most beautiful thing about me.

And I am not sorry God made me black.

You nubian sister in arms,

Tommeh Bell

Black Films that make you go Hmmm......

As February looms out before us and we move out of January I am looking forward to another Black
History Month. As a African American I look forward to February every year. Maybe if my
boyfriend lived close enough for a romantic dinner I would look forward to February for a different
reason, but that is neither here nor there.

For Black History month I look at it as a learning experience. I learn something new and wonderful
about my culture every year and I in turn share it with those around me. And more often than not I
pull out all of my Black DVDs and have a good laugh or cry as I watch them. When I say black I
mean a movie that is a majority black cast and or director.

This year is going to be particularly fun for me as I take my seven year old nephew on a cinematic
journey through blaxploitation. He's almost a bigger cineophile than me...almost. It's going to be
great to share all these movies and experiences with him. Though February really should not be the
only time you see a black film, but let's face it, sometimes it just happens that way.

Which is fantastic, more people should revival in the diversity that is the United States and see all
the wonderful films that African Americans are producing. However as a Black person there are just
some films that just made me go Damn. Not a good damn that has you tweeting about during the
actual movie, but the head shaking damn that makes you want to slap someone silly. Where all you
can do is sit and watch the train wreck on the screen and hope to God that the usher swings by with
the life raft.

So here are a few of those films that just made me go hmmm.

I Got the Hook Up

Master P in the height of the No Limit Revolution figured that if he could make money as a
rapper, which he did a pretty good job of, he could make money as a movie star. That made about
as much sense as Michael Jordan thinking he could play baseball. Which we all know was a
horrible idea that we only indulged in because let's face it he is Michael Jordan. However, just
because you are good and successful at one thing does not mean that you can or should go into
other areas and expect to have the same level of success. Unfortunately for us Master P didn't learn
the object lesson that Jordan taught us and he produced one of the worst Black movies ever made.
Not to mention that the soundtrack was terrible, and that was just the straw that broke this filly's
back.

Soul Plane

I hate to include Soul Plane on this list because I actually like the movie and I do think its

funny. Hilarious in fact, but I just can't get past the inclusion of the white family in this movie. Soul
Plane is a comedic caricature of black culture. Every single stereotype that has ever been said or
printed about black people and our culture is crammed into this film. And it just feels like the the
white people in the movie are making fun of us and its not a good feeling. It just doesn't make up
for the laughs that this movie produce. Though its a great start for the comedic career for the pint
sized Kevin Hart.

Pootie Tang

I'm not even sure where I'm supposed to begin with this movie. Pootie Tang is a spinoff
from a skit that Chris Rock used to do on his show, and frankly Chris Rock just isn't funny. That's
my opinion and I'm sticking to it. Don't black people have enough problems convincing the world
that we do indeed know the English language and that we are capable of using it in its proper
context without an entire movie coming out where the lead character speaks a unintelligible

language? There's simply nothing funny about that. Not to mention that storyline makes me want to
start ripping Hermes bags apart with my teeth and setting them on fire.

Save The Last Dance

This movie makes you go damn because its just a clash of stereotypes about black and white
cultures. Save the Last Dance is the story of a white ballerina “falling from grace,” landing herself
in the inner city ghetto. Nothing wrong with a good old fashioned redemption story. I love them
myself. This movie on the other hand seems to be more about the ghetto black male figure falling in
love with the lilly white girl as she “slums” it in the ghetto.

Which really pisses me off. There are many ways that a white person can fall from grace that still
keeps them in the burbs so to speak. Its the fact her fall had have her in the dregs of society in the
“ghetto.” And how in the hell are these teenagers getting into clubs in the first place? I mean I was a
teenager once and last I checked I got turned away from clubs before I turned 18.

Julia Styles is a wonderful actress by the way. This was just a bad movie for her if you ask me.
Just like Chenille, played by the ever beautiful Kerry Washington, said, Sara is stealing one of the
few good black men in the community. And like it or not this is a serious bone of contention with
black women and having it spit up in our faces in a movie that pimps out black culture like a Jenna
Jameson movie cuts deep.

And once again the drugs and gangs aspect just had to thrown in there. I mean are we seeing a trend
here? Is this starting to make sense to anyone else. True two of the best black films ever made,
Menace II Society, and Boyz in the Hood, are about the gang lifestyle, but those films were more
about educating than entertaining.

Save the Last Dance just didn't seem to have a reason for the race card to have been pulled in this
movie, it just seemed to be thrown in there for good measure. Stiles and Thomas shared some
romantic scenes that felt like that awkward moment when you step on the elevator and smell
something foul and you and the other person look at each other with that accusatory glare in your
eye. The star of the movie was the choreography and unfortunately Stiles' “want to be down” ghetto
vibe sent it straight to the back of the bus.

How She Move

This movie was a mess from beginning to end. It seemed to want to combine Step Up,
Drumline and Stomp the Yard with a island twist to it. The only thing this movie managed to twist
up was the movie itself. There were too many subplots going on in a movie. It just tried to do too
many things with actors that weren't told they had to been inspiring and emotionally deep at the
same time.

Rayanna's sister dies from her crack addiction at the beginning of the movie and since her parents
worked to keep her sister on the straight and narrow she is forced to leave her private school when
the money runs dry. If they had kept the plot moving along those lines and went with the whole
idea of Raya using step to find herself again then the movie would have had at least one redeeming
quality in it. That would have been too simple however. So they had to throw in the “once a best
friend when we lived in the ghetto, but now a forgotten relic now that I'm in a snooty private
school” add that overly worked plot device to the “never was relationship that we are going to
rekindle after we win the dance off”, “the redemption of hoodrats and the ghetto fabulous”, the
struggle between the good life and the easy money and you have the convoluted mess that they
made of How She Move.

What's worse is that Rutina Weasley goes on to True Blood to astound us with her acting ability.
Further proving that this was just a horrible script that should have never seen the light of day. Let
alone taken your money. If the road to hell is paved with good intentions, this movie is the yellow
brick road.

Norbit

I'm not sure if I'm the only one but I am sick and tired of seeing black men dressed up as big
black women trying to be funny. Is it the fact that they are dressing up as women? Or the fact that
they are fat women that we find so funny? I mean on RuPaul's Drag Race none of those skinny
queens dress up as fat queens. We want to make fun on those men. We want to send them to camps
to make them be men but its funny when Eddie or Tyler Perry does it. So what gives? Am I missing
the comedy in being fat?

As a fat women I take offense to it. This movie crams every ugly stereotype about fat, black women
down our throats and doesn't even have the decency to kiss us goodnight. Eddie Murrphy should
have gotten his cross-dressing kicks in the Nutty Professor and The Klumps, but no he had to slap
us with Norbit. Rasputia, is Eddie's characterization of plus sized, black women.

She isn't just a little big, or thick. She is a full blown obese woman. Rasputia is loud, ghetto,
uneducated, a total bully, utterly controlling, overbearing, rude, hateful, physically abusive,
unfaithful, and a disgusting overeater.

And what's worse is that they make fun of her for clinging to the idea that she is still beautiful. Its
just ludicrous that a woman her size would wear a bathing suit. We just can't understand it why a fat
chick would go to the nail salon to keep her hair grow under control and to keep her nails and toes
looking good. I mean no one is looking at her fat behind anyways. That is just funny that a big girl
thinks she is still sexy enough to dress up in lingerie for her husband. People laughed and thought it
was funny to poke fun at the overweight and even uglier than that was the fact that this fat woman
still thought she was sexy! Wow, that was a knee slapper right there. Then we have the nerve to
wonder why our children are being bullied in school. To top it all off Rasputia is finally brought
down by Mr. Wong harpooning her like she is a animal. Well no thats the exactly the image they
wanted us to have. That Rasputia is an animal. A fat disgusting animal that should be put down, to
be scrubbed from our memories and washed down with a long gander is the skinny, light skinned
black woman smiling in the background.

This movie was written by Eddie and his brother Charlie so this is what they think of plus sized
black women. Why do things hurt more when they come from your own people?

Bones

Where should I begin with this movie? The fact that Snoop Dogg is in it without the aid of
his cannabis? Not that his smoking would have made him a better actor in this film. The fact that
they took someone as beautiful as Pamela Greer and turned her into Witch Hazel with bad skin?
They took a woman that inspired an entire nation of black woman and their hair and hid her beauty
behind terrible makeup, nasty looking locks and a lighting set up my seven year old nephew could
have pulled off during his lunch break. Or the horrible cinematography of the sixties flashbacks?

No wait it had to be that since its a movie with a mostly black cast it just had to include some
element about drugs? Yeah, yeah I know the statistics and all that, but I don't go to the movies to
get a slice of the ghetto. I can drive around the other side of High Point for that. And I certainly
don't go to see the ugly side of being black slapped across my face.

Bones isn't even worth being in the Wal-Mart bargain movie dumping ground. I would rather spend
the dollar on a box of Peanut Butter M&Ms.

BAPS

Halle Berry should have all copies of this movie rounded up and burned, and then have acid
poured on the ashes. What on Earth she was thinking about while filming this movie should only be
between her and God. I can think of a lot of horrible ways to die, thank you Jigsaw, but I don't think
even Jigsaw would subject someone to this movie. Sure there are funny parts. I mean girls beating
up on a burglar is chock full of laughs, but that is about it. The premise is sort of like Pretty Woman
meets Two Broke Girls without the good acting or great budget.

Which is a shame that we had to see this. When Halle is at her best and on her game. She is a Oscar worthy diva on the silver screen. B.A.P.S however is Halle on her on a off day. Seriously Halle Berry with a gold tooth?

Where was the voice of reason when the film was being made? I guess they were catching
some waves with the Governator or something.



In conclusion I know there are people who throughly enjoy the movies and would defend them with their last breath is need be I just to not be one of them. I wished they had never been made, let alone
shone in front of real people. When the zombie apocalypse final gets underway and there is nothing
linking us to our humanity but these movies then maybe I will appreciate the value they add to
everyday life, but until the day I try on my Alice outfit with my twin Desert Eagles I will shout it
from the rooftops that these movies are hot garbage on a Texas summer day.

Happy Black History Month and have a nice day.

* I do not own any of this images and they were taken straight off the internet