The Reality Of The Black Man

12. A Fetishized People

ADMITTEDLY, it sounds like a good thing.

I mean, the entire world automatically thinks I'm amazing in bed. Women prefer us solely thanks to our skin colour. Our sexual dominance and masculinity is revered, praised and gratified everywhere in the world. We are the answer to all your sexual desires.

But then, something is off.

A girl will sleep with me, but never marry me. She'll marry Chad though. Chad is more 'husband material'.

She'll text me after 11, never before. Maybe something misspelt and short. Something I won't resist.

She'll invite me over when no one else is home. She isn't ashamed of me, and she's not racist either. After all, she wants me.

So we go. We always go because it's what we do. We always go because she wants us to. We always go because we are black men and our sexual dominance and masculinity is all we are. Right?

Wrong.

What if you'd prefer to get married than get a booty call. You're a let-down.

Or your penis isn't nine inches and you're as scrawny as a twig? You're a let-down.

Or you're gay? You're a let-down.

You're invested in your own life? You're a let-down.

You don't have a high sex drive? You're a let-down.

You want to take it steady? You're a let-down.

This is fetishization. The perpetuated idea of us as sexual objects rather than people. Putting us in a box of large penises and mind-blowing sex, yet never scholars or artists or fathers.

Admittedly, it sounds like a good thing. Except its implications become evident when no one wants to hear you, unless your moaning and no one wants to see you, unless you're naked. But a black man's sexual dominance and masculinity are not all we are.

We are smart.

We are caring.

We are emotional.

We are hard-working.

We are PEOPLE.