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Toxic Trauma

I went to class yesterday and I was ready, I was ready to learn some good shit. Until the question is announced, has anyone ever made fun of the way you speak. I was frozen because one girl tells her story of a hair tie being called a hair pull. I was basically like what the hell is this. I was in the fucking Twilight Zone. How could they? I somehow ended up in a class full of people that have these basic life moments that they really want to share but do not amount up to any life experience.

I was anxious, overwhelmed, ready to run, truly wanting to face my fears, and wanting to also beat someone’s ass. After all the class is free and a new way for me to achieve yet another goal. I feel like I am back marching for freedoms with MLK or needing to sit on the porch next to Malcolm. The next class I am in I am definitely sitting in the back with my ankles crossed and my ideas closed to the world. I am trying to eat, pray, and love, however, I am here eating vegetables, praying and meditating, loving and doting on myself, as well as trying to make my life happen for the greater good of it all.

We went into cultural slang and old sayings. I speak then all but deep down I felt like each old saying was a part of a past story from my life and each cultural slang word made me feel as if I needed to be ashamed of being black. The other sad part was that I overheard others speaking and I had to copy the words from their lists. I am so ahead but truly behind. It all changes so quickly.

Can I maintain this situation?

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