As a Black person, I am entitled to define racism. I am the recipient of the biased treatment. I am the woman who must teach my amazing son how not to look people directly in the eye, how to downplay who he is, how to shrink his stature to not appear as a threat.

I am the one who has to teach my incredible daughter that she is beautiful although her image is fetishized and disregarded and downplayed and not idolized like her White counterparts. I am the one who has to smile and grin in the face of people who hate me simply because of the color of my skin and to stay safe. I am the one who has to pretend that everything is okay when it is not. Every. Single. Day.

I could care less about a word. It is White people who take such offense of being called a word. If a word was all I had to worry about, my life would be sublime.

White people are worried about the wrong thing in my opinion. White people are fighting about a definition, we are fighting to STAY ALIVE.

I wrote this article because I grew tired of speaking of this over and over again in the comments and wanted the article speak for how I felt. Period.

You are entitled to your opinion as I am to mine. We don't always have to agree because we are both two human beings operating from two different experiences and journeys. That's the beauty of humanity.

I appreciate you for taking the time to comment and read.