If I was one of her room mates and had to hear Aretha Franklin constantly screeching R E S P E CT and smelling fried chicken grease everyday, I’d leave. It doesn’t take me long to find out I’m in a place where I’d rather not be.
“Walking home that night, I unleashed all my tears. I wanted to reach out and hug a black man.”
My husband and I spent last week in Phoenix and in large part in the tonier neighborhood of Scotsdale. We saw a lot of black men and everyone of them was out to lunch or dinner having a great time with their white or Asian wife and mixed kids. We did not see one black couple together.
Sorry, lady, black men don’t seem to want to be hugged by their black “sisters.”