THOSE PEOPLE

A black magazine for people too hip for black magazines. 

Boys Don’t Cry

Boys Don’t Cry

 

I remember praying from a broken place,
That was the night before last.
Flying at half-mast, in mourning,
After being told I would never be good enough.
The night before the last — for me.

This will not hurt.

A sleep unlike any other,
I could have smothered myself with empty reassurance…

I just wanted to breathe.

Freedom came in capsule form,
Swallowed by the fist-full,
Flying at half-mast, in mourning.

No blaze of glory,
No meaningful outro,
No accentuated exit,

I just wanted to breathe.

Every year an estimated quarter of a million people become suicide survivors.

I often wonder how many of that quarter mil this year will be men. How many of that bunch will be Black men? How many of that number will have been socialized into believing that their silence is strength? Of that quarter million, how many are grappling with the tug-of-war between the urges to authentically feel — and the downright dated and ridiculous ideology that:

Boys Don’t Cry?

How many of them are just… like… me?

There was a time when I too subscribed to the notion that because I was “the man of the house,” there was no room for what I then saw as frivolous emotional outbursts. There was a time I viewed any major displays of emotion as weakness.

Black male emotionality seems to be the skeleton shoved furthest back in our collective closet. The generational effects of all we as a melanated male collective have been and still are enduring have left us spiraling downward towards a place I personally don’t feel we were ever meant to witness.

We have to start having incredibly honest conversations amongst each other.

We have to start telling the truths we have long refused to. This survival mode, this perpetual silent treatment we’ve learned our way into isn’t working [logically or statistically, look: here].

Assata said:

“We must love each other and support each other…”

I wholeheartedly agree. So let’s start now.

 
I’ve Spoken to My Father One Time

I’ve Spoken to My Father One Time

My Father’s Never Told Me He Loved Me

My Father’s Never Told Me He Loved Me