Totally mentally gifted and usually fine as hell.
I love Black women. I love us with a pure, bottomless, concentrated, no-added-ingredients kind of adoration that goes beyond the love I have for my mother, sister, aunts or even myself.
White people aren't expected to slay all day. And when they do, they aren't asked to defend said excellence. Why should we?
As women, we're often the recipients of instruction that was not asked for and policing that is not required. This is even more so for Black women, who have been subjected to a long history of systemic policing – of our bodies, behaviours and our beings.
The idea of the bad bitch is not new.
Any child or grandchild of the civil rights generation understood the lesson: due to an uneven playing field, it would require exceptional effort in order to achieve what the average white person might view as ordinary.
Nonetheless my work was often ascribed to race.
I was fine minding my own business doing things I enjoyed, working to create opportunities for myself so that I could in turn provide opportunities for younger people like me and eventually my kids. But I was also tired of feeling the weight of responsibility to help fill a crucial gap in an entire industry.
Thompson wasn’t the only one who felt left out.