In celebration of Black Excellence Month, some of my crew and I went on a snowboarding trip to the location of a U.S. Civil War Union victory. Of course it wasn’t advertised as such, the pamphlet just said The Smokey Mountains. I was extremely excited to shred some fresh powder with my people, destroying stereotypes as our black asses plunged through the white snow. “Niggas is snow, you already know”, was our slogan for the trip. We were hype.
Black people generally love to gain access to otherwise infeasible activities. My theory is that it all started with the restrictions placed on our people thousands of years ago, when the first white person in history took a brotha’s gold and enslaved his whole family. From that moment, Black people were determined to not only repossess their rights and riches, but to also swag out anything that white people claimed to be their own. Recent Black history is largely composed of events that deal with overcoming oppression and threats to livelihood. As we continue to inch toward social equality, our desire and ability to take over so-called “white” activities increases. They said we weren’t allowed to read, vote, go to school, own property, fight wars, play basketball, spit game to other races, or go into politics. Then, when all of that stuff became legal, stereotypes and misconceptions tried to dictate what we could and could not do.
“A Black billionaire? Yeah right”
“We’ll never have a Black president”
“Black people don’t play tennis”
“Black people don’t wear Polo”
“Niggas don’t be in Paris”
So we were determined to go hammer on the slopes, just for duality’s sake. Gatilinburg, Tennessee was as homogenous as we had expected when we arrived. It looked like a fun, cold and amusing Iowa campaign stop. We were bumping Rick Ross’ Rich Forever mixtape in the car as White America stared with intrigue and repressed fear.
Things got off to a pretty rocky start on the slopes at first. We took snowboarding lessons from a guy named Kyle, and we spent an hour busting our asses over and over again. But then we started getting the hang of it and 10 minutes later my homegirls were already at the top of the mountain ready to go. The rest of the crew followed suit and from then on out we were unstoppable. We were on the rookie mountain, but we were still doing better than most of the folks around us. They took the same class that we did, but we were flexing on them, melanin and all.
When we got back the cabin, shots were in order. We had a blast on the slopes and it was time to party. With N*ggas In Paris playing at full blast, we lifted our glasses and started chanting
“Niggas in snow, you already know!”
We took the shots and repeated the chant until it became the chorus to an all-out freestyle session. We continued to rage as my homey and I started looking around for more plastic cups. Then, out of nowhere, someone exclaimed,
“Um… why do those plates say K.K.K ?!”
The music literally stopped. We looked at each other to assure ourselves that this wasn’t some drunken hallucination. But sure enough, there were K.K.K. plates posted on the wall, and we hadn’t noticed them for almost 2 days.
What were we to do? Perhaps the plates were on display to represent some names of family members. You know, like Kevin, Kathy and Kyle, maybe. Or maybe it was a sly little shout out to a domestic terrorist organization.
The fact of the matter is that everywhere you go, there’s going to be some racist shit around. Remember that fact about spiders they taught in elementary school (or Magic School Bus)? You’re never more than three feet away from a spider? Racist shit be like spiders. Somebody’s always saying something offensive or reading a racist joke text or calling us niggers while sitting in a car with the windows rolled up. Haters gonna hate. Racists want you to go down to their level and act with pure stupidity and anger. Essentially, they want you to have a nigga moment. Ironic as that may be, most of us are better than that.
I called the front desk and asked them who was in charge of decorating the cabins. The receptionist told me that people registered their personal property under the lodging company for the public to book. This meant that our racist enemy was basically invisible. Just like most racist phenomena in the “post racial” society, this situation was one of malicious subtly. So I walked up to the plates, looked at the crew, and took the middle plate. “K and K” means nothing to me and good times for my people means everything. We turned the music back on and continued to go in.
Racists are always going to try to bring us down, but you’d be surprised at the little steps you can take to make their influence weaker. We strive for excellence because we come from excellence, and no domestic terrorist group has a say in the matter. So we’ll just keep living, partying and achieving greatness in the face of bigotry and any acronymous vehicle of oppression.
The rest of Gatlinburg was pretty much like this video
Meet a Black Guy