Dating scene for black women in nyc

12-Apr-2016 09:13

I didn’t tell them about how disrespected and disregarded I feel as a black woman, or how sick I am over the fear that was struck in the hearts of Muslim Americans and immigrant families all over the country last night.

I didn’t tell them about the bitterness I feel over this campaign’s normalization and validation of hate and misogyny.

That the best thing any of us can do is listen to each other, try to understand each other, take care of each other, stand up for what we believe is right, and speak out against what we think is wrong, no matter who sits in the Oval Office.

That we can’t ever stop trying to do better and be better.

They understand more than I wish they did about Trump’s rhetoric, and it scares them. But I will keep reassuring them that their happy little lives will go on as normal.

I will explain that while we don’t all agree, this country still belongs to all of us.

What I didn’t tell them about is the rage I feel that our country chose a presidential candidate endorsed by the KKK.

They know about those guys and that would terrify them.

That we hold ourselves and especially our leaders to a higher standard than the one put forth by a candidate who appealed to, exploited, and preyed upon people’s worst fears and prejudices.I was never naïve enough to think that all the demons of our country's past were dead and gone.But I believed that they were outnumbered by the good and the decent and the compassionate, that those who believed we really are “Stronger Together” would prevail.So how did I explain what actually happened to my 9-year-old African-American daughter and my 7-year-old African-American son this morning? We all have to agree to accept the outcome of a fair vote, even when it doesn’t go the way we’d hoped or expected.Since we’re on the West Coast, they went to bed already knowing it wasn’t looking good. I told them it wasn’t over yet and that there was still hope—but that no matter what happened they would be OK. I wanted them to go to bed with some glimmer of hope that something might change while they were sleeping. So the first thing I wanted them to know this morning is that they are safe.

That we hold ourselves and especially our leaders to a higher standard than the one put forth by a candidate who appealed to, exploited, and preyed upon people’s worst fears and prejudices.

I was never naïve enough to think that all the demons of our country's past were dead and gone.

But I believed that they were outnumbered by the good and the decent and the compassionate, that those who believed we really are “Stronger Together” would prevail.

So how did I explain what actually happened to my 9-year-old African-American daughter and my 7-year-old African-American son this morning? We all have to agree to accept the outcome of a fair vote, even when it doesn’t go the way we’d hoped or expected.

Since we’re on the West Coast, they went to bed already knowing it wasn’t looking good. I told them it wasn’t over yet and that there was still hope—but that no matter what happened they would be OK. I wanted them to go to bed with some glimmer of hope that something might change while they were sleeping. So the first thing I wanted them to know this morning is that they are safe.

I didn’t tell them that I I made them pancakes, because pancakes on a Wednesday are special.