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The Ancestors are Weeping



Let me tell you what they doing Fannie Lou.. They out here kissing the oppressors ass with the same lips that quote you.

Choosing politics over the people.

Coonery over community.

Cooning in the name of the movement like you ain’t taught us better.

Selling souls for checks that supposedly make the community “better”

Tellin me that black billionaires are the only counter to capitalism, like Fred wasn’t assassinated trying to teach us the opposite.

Me and my rants have been trying to tell them, you see..

Black capitalism will never set us free.

And you are lost in your wicked ideal of liberation if you think that it could ever be.

Dr. King,

they’re making your dream into a nightmare.

making a mockery of the work you worked so hard to do.

They yell “go vote”

but wont go to the hood with registration forms.

Then look confused on Election Day when all the white conservatives won.

It’s almost seems… intentional.

“Opps, we forgot to bring our program to the poor”

How coincidental.

John Lewis,

please tell them that protests still work and your actions were not in vain.

That they amplify the message of the movement and all of its pain.

Instead, they ride pass us as we flood the streets with signs as if we all equally don’t have a duty in this fight for freedom.

Ella,

The OG’s don’t teach us like you taught Dr. King and all the others.

They’re hoarding the torch of the movement so we have to teach ourselves.

But when we make mistakes they scream our failures out loud to everybody else.

Huey,

tell them about the infiltrators in the Black Panther Party.

You know,

the ones who made deals with the FBI.

Now they’ve traded the bloody hits for the bloody money as a way to get by.

It’s always we shall overcome just as long as the checks come.

Secret meetings with our enemies that betray the community.

Facebook pics with the opps for the sake of political respectability.

Then they have the nerve to post radical Malcolm X quotes to seem like they’re doing the work.

Oh the audacity of people who claim to fight the good fight.

All bark. Half the bite.

I always find myself floored.

Since when did coonin become a pre requisite for the war?

You sell your soul in morning meetings and think you’ll sleep good at night?

I know you don’t.

You put your make up on and the most tailored suit..

But the bags under your eyes let me know that you stay up all night, wishing you could fight this fight, the right way.

And you can.

But you won’t.

I know the ancestors collectively weep every time you sell a piece of the soul they tried so hard to protect.

Harriet,

remind them you already gave us the blueprint.

We just have to study, learn and follow it.

Shirley,

let them know we don’t need a seat at their table where we don’t even belong. That if we work as a unit, we can create our own.

Assata,

tell them we do not have to betray ourselves in exchange for liberation. Because what good is the gift of freedom if morality isn’t included within it.

Nina,

tell them all money ain’t good money, even if you think it’s good.

Fred,

ask them what good is their little program if it’s not accessible to the hood?

Can’t you hear the sound of the ancestors weeping with every step you take into the meetings where you sell your soul?

How do you avoid the roars of their cries that echo so loudly in your ear?

They thought their tears were over after death but here they are crying more in the afterlife because of you.

Our sweet ancestors.

The ones who chose death over bondage.

The ones who dreamed for the life that we have now.

We are benefiting the flowers that were watered with their silent tears.

We are because of them.

We should be continuing their work.

Not reversing it.

The ancestors would not be proud if many of them were here.

They are trying to speak through you but your wallet is in the way of their truth.

I know that black people are not a monolith.

And we all don’t want the same things.

And all skin folk ain’t kinfolk, especially when morality rings.

Everyone can have a place in the movement, but unfortunately everyone does not want one.

Or the right one.

Or a moral one, for that matter.

We all have a duty to our ancestors, our communities and ourselves to do the work that will ultimately make a better life for all defendants of Africa.

One thing about the movement is that it has to do just that…move.

But we can not move if we have coons keeping us bound in the mud of class, capitalism, and selfishness.

We should not have to fight the system and our people at the same time.

Two wars are no better than one.

And that’s a fact.

Can’t have black-white unity until there’s black unity first.

Malcolm taught me that.

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