I am probably the most militant (maybe second after Chad) person on the thread, so it really hurt me to think of this post… but it had to happen. I’ve lived in LA for about 9 and a half months now. It’s been an interesting adventure. There have been a lot of ups and downs during this journey as I’m in a very interesting situation. Right now, I am my boss’s only employee, so it’s been kind of hard meeting peers. And after the week I had, I decided to write this blog.
While trying to meet new people, I have realized that black women are the unfriendliest women (at least in LA). As I’ve had many encounters here, I’ve been surprised how various women have responded to me. I have a friend from college that I’ve been hanging out with. She’s friendly. She’s spunky. She’s accepting, and she’s white… So we go to a lot of bars and have wine nights watching Pitch Perfect. But being who I am, I can say I do crave [doing hoodrat things] with my friends, so I did go on a search to find some black friends. What did I decide to do? I joined the LA Urban League Young Professionals.
I went to my first event this past week. I was excited. I have a magnetic personality. I’m funny. I have to meet one friend, right? As I lightly campaigned about just moving here and made small talk, every single female ended up giving me the “we already have our friends leave us alone” stank face. I would join conversations, and these females would literally turn their lip up at me. Really? It wasn’t even about bourgie black people perceiving that I was less than because I clearly just paid dues. So why look at me like this? My jokes were funny. I even had the comedian laughing, so I questioned why I left the event feeling awkward, bruised, and empty handed.
The next night… I go out with my spunky, LA best friend, and a couple of her ex co-workers (one Caucasian, one Asian-American). We hit a nice, dance infused, spot. Mostly black people. I got to shake my lovely lady lump. The downside of this place? It was the upstairs of a restaurant and only had one, unisex bathroom. If you know me, you know that I am the bathroom queen and probably will go 3 or 4 times during the night. (It’s probably because I drink so fast… don’t judge me!) While in this abyss of a restroom line, a Latina taps me and tells me how pretty I look in my shirt. We then strike up a conversation. She recognizes my accent, and I tell her that I haven’t lived here for long. She then invites me out to a comedy night. We exchange numbers. (She was in line with her boyfriends, so she wasn’t hitting on me). A simple bathroom trip, and I gain an associate. Interesting.
I wish I had some profound logic as to why black women are the way we are, but I don’t. We get in our groups, and we treat encounters like they are twerk team auditions. I’m not being a pot calling the kettle black, but I am now aware of what we as black women do. And if we do it to women, many of us wonder why no men approached us at the club. We’re missing God’s blessing by being so unfriendly, so I’m challenging myself to smile at everyone and not give someone a stank face when they try to have a conversation with me. Let’s see what will happen! #BlackPower