2011 Will Be The Year Of The Black Woman

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When I think about the beating that Black women took in 2010 and now prepare to forecast a glorious 2011 for ya’ll, I reminded how Winston Churchill said at the time when his England seemed almost certainly doomed to go down in defeat to Hitler’s Nazi Germany, “If the British Empire and it’s Commonwealth last for a thousand years, men will say: ‘This was their finest hour.’”

Well, in a year that worked it’s best to convince us that all Black women were poor, fat, dumb and disease ridden, the most impressive thing that ya’ll did collectively was avoid implosion.

You seemed to realize that all you were facing was, in reality, psychological warfare.

You seemed to understand that if you believed what was being written about you, you were lost.

Yet, ya’ll are still here, for better or worse, beaten but unbowed, bent but not broken.

Good show, ladies.

It may not always seem like Black men have your back (because probably, sometimes, we don’t), but trust that the best amongst us realize that without you guys, we’re all finished.

And let me just make this one thing clear: I’m no suck-up. I hate most of ya’ll. It’s just that ya’ll are considerably better than any possible alternative.

So now I’m going to make 3 suggestions for Black women that, since they’ll be coming for a Black man without a 20lb mustache or an 8-button suit, I’ll expect ya’ll to disregard entirely.

1. Make Peace Internally—Lil Kim vs. Nicki Minaj is simply among the more famous cases of Black women beefing. Ya’ll need to form a union or something. Anything else is counterproductive, counterrevolutionary and holds us all back.

2. Treat Your Kids Better than You Treat Your Hair—I know for a lot of ya’ll that sounds impossible, but trust me, when you guys out and your hair looks great but your kids look busted, the only things that people will remember are the kids.

3. Build the Man You Want— Any woman that doesn’t realize her own personal power over men is a disgrace to her gender. You guys could end sagging pants in a weekend by just walking up to all the swaggering youth and saying “that looks gay!”

And there you have it.

I’ve given you guys pearls!

But don’t bother thanking me or even searching to find me.

I’m about to holla at Amber Rose.