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Welcome to Black History month part 2! I may have ruffled a few feathers last week and guess what? I’m going to ruffle even more today.
Fun fact: Black history month wasn’t recognized by a president till 1976. President Ford “seize the opportunity to honor the too-often neglected accomplishments of black Americans in every area of endeavor throughout our history.”
There are people older than black history month celebration… Kostoff comes to mind. Does that make him the Betty white of HOW? Betty White came before sliced bread. Kostoff came before black history month. Beloved and treasured old people who did a lot. But the point is black History month has not been that recognized. It hasn’t been around that long. 46 years only… and why am I making a big deal about it? Because we have a very long long way to go.
Let’s talk about white privilege. If your shoulders tensed up or if you’re arguing you didn’t grow up rich; you don’t understand what it means. White privilege doesn’t mean you got anything for being white, it means that barriers weren’t put in place because of you not being white.
The color of your skin has given you a privilege that people like myself, wish we had. I’m not saying I want to be white. I’ve been told I “act white.” More than enough of my life. All I can be is me. The color of my skin does not dictate my behavior but it does dictate others behaviors in the public.
You can tell me “all lives matter.” And I cringe. Because white lives have always mattered. The whole black lives matter movement isn’t saying we matter more. It means we matter too. Because historically and even to this day our lives have mattered less. More than half white med students believe that black people have thicker skin and higher pain tolerance.
The father of gynecology James Marion Sims, had studied on living slaves. His contributions to studying women’s bodies was at the expense of women’s lives but deemed less because they were his property. But that was so long ago right? Let it go it was Slavery and it was socially acceptable back then! It isn’t like that today let it go. But it is still like that… There’s a high maternal mortality rate with black women and babies because of the treatment we receive. Four times more likely the ratio black women die in comparison to white women in maternity care. Five to one is the infant mortality rate. With Ohio being the second worst state in the US for maternal and fetal mortality for African Americans.
I am just one voice. I am just one person who has lived this experience. I have advocated for others to use their voice. But when you don’t have money, when you don’t have courage, you can’t always find your voice. You can’t always find that inner strength.
I know at this point you’re thinking this doesn’t pertain to me. “I don’t see color.” Then you’re choosing to not see that other people are treated unjustly. You’ve picked the side of willful ignorance and thus picked a side against mine.
I know your counter though… “I’m not racist I have black friends.” That one is hilarious to me. Do your black friends know that you’re racist; and you refer to them as your ‘black friends’? You may not be racist on purpose, it may be unintentional. As unintentional as the non homophobic person who refers to his friends as “gay”.
Hmm that is still problematic. If you don’t want to change you don’t have to. But do not be offended when everyone else questions why you would choose to remain ignorant. No way you can win this. What can you say to not be offensive? Easily don’t be offensive, watch what you say and how you say it, don’t ask if you can use a word that you know you can’t say.
Don’t refer to your black friends as your black friends, don’t count how many black people you have had in your home. Growing up poor does not mean you have a hood pass or a pass to use the “ghetto words” that you automatically align with black.
I feel like I have to repeat these over and over again because you guys just aren’t getting it. I’m not black enough to some of you, because me being a nerd or me being well spoken and well educated does not equate to my ethnicity in some form? It’s one of the most ignorant things I have heard. I have heard this one all my life, because I’m well spoken; because I don’t use a a v e on the regular. That’s because you don’t hear it. It’s called code switching what is code switching?
Code switching is something I’ve had to master my entire life because when I’m around certain people, I have to make sure I sound well educated and well spoken.. that is another thing if you call me ‘articulate’ I’m going to get mad and most likely day dream about punching you in the face for it. Because that means your only view on black people is uneducated who don’t have a proper vocabulary. Vocabulary is determined by where you went to school, where you grew up, and often people assume that since black people generally live in urban settings that they don’t have the best education.
Whereas most of the settings in urban schools and areas do not have proper education their books are out of date they don’t have enough papers to do testing for kids at school whereas the suburban areas give every kid a tablet! It must be nice to be that privileged. I myself am aware of my privilege. I am aware of what wrestling has got me. Of what hard work and breaking the glass ceiling has gotten me. Still not equal pay with the other men in the Hall of Fame. But we’ll save that for next months. Oh you didn’t know? It’s national women’s month along with my birthday! Oh that’s a doozy you are in for it next month.
Instead of fighting against what I am trying to educate you on, lean in. Or better yet question why you’re so uncomfortable with what I am saying? Maybe you being uncomfortable is how you can grow. Almost as if I have hope for some of you…
————-
We see a white limo pull up to the familiar white colonial style house in Parma in the late evening. The limo driver rushes out in the light falling snow and opens the door. Bobbinette Carey emerges fresh off her and Darkwing victory. She yawns stepping out of the limo, wearing now wrinkled pink business pants and matching blazer with a black shirt under it. Her feet had black ballet flats. Her hair looks disheveled as her face shows exhaustion. She reaches into her purse and pulls out her garage door opener and hits the button taking her bag towards her garage as the limo drives off. She hears the neighbor’s dog bark as she walks towards her house. She hears a door open behind her. She looks over her shoulder to see her neighbor Marc bringing out his recycling bin to the curb. Bobbinette sets her bag inside her garage and then grabs her recycling bin to take out to the curb. She sees him and raises an index finger. He notices her and smiles.
Marc: You forgot the recycling too?
He chuckles softly at her.
Bobbinette: What? Oh yeah…I did. But I wanted to talk to you..
She says biting the side of her lip as she walks across the street.
Marc: I was just thinking about you. And loe and behold you appear.
He says with a smile. He looks over her expression as his smile slowly fades.
Marc: This doesn’t bode well…
He says under his breath.
Bobbinette: Look, I’m sorry I have to cancel.
Her face looks sad as she takes out her cellphone.
Marc: We didn’t even set a date. You didn’t know when…
He says looking at her confused.
Bobbinette: It’s just that I’m working two weeks in a row, sorry.
Marc: You know most people work every week. I get it, you’re just looking for a reason to shoot a guy down huh?
Bobbinette shrugs her shoulders.
Bobbinette: Look, I don’t trust you. It’s not you, it’s me. I have trust issues, it’s an occupational hazard.
He puts his hand up as his jaw drops open.
Marc: You’re already dumping me? Wow… this is record time. We didn’t even get to a meal or anything and you’re giving me the cut and run line.
He laughs. She sighs loudly.
Marc: The girl I’ve had a crush on forever. The beautiful woman I’ve pined over for months and she won’t even let me get my foot in.
He says his hand on his heart looking wounded half heartedly joking. She rolls her eyes, shaking her head.
Bobbinette: I’m sure you’re a nice guy.
She says with a sympathetic tone as she turns to start to leave
Marc: Or maybe I’m not… You wouldn’t know.
She paused and tilts her head to the side.
Bobbinette: What?
Marc: I could be brown I could be blue I could be violet sky..
He starts singing off key. She looks confused.
Bobbinette: Excuse me?
Marc: I could be hurtful, I could be purple, I could be anything you like.
Bobbinette squints confused at him.
Bobbinette: Yeah… so anyways…
She starts walking away waving yet hand goodbye as she starts making her way across the street he grabs her hand softly and continues. Bobbinette gasps as she turns back around and is completely confused by what is going on.
Marc: I could be brown, I could be blue, I could be violet sky.
Bobbinette: What are you doing?
She asks in a shocked tone but not fighting him. She tries to pucker her mouth to a scowl but the sides of her face keep giving away. He puts his other hand behind her waist and starts dancing with her in the street.
Marc: I could be hurtful, I could be purple, I could be anything you like.
Bobbinette looks around the street as he keeps singing. She hasn’t hit him yet, her nose is wrinkled as she tries to not smirk at his bold action.
Bobbinette: This, this isn’t cute just so you know.
His voice goes up an octave as he is dancing with her side to side in small steps in a fox trot. She puts her free hand on his shoulder going along with it
Marc: I could be brown, I could be blue, I could be violet sky, I could be hurtful, I could be purple, I could be anything you like.
His steps and dance moves carry them across the street to her front yard.
Marc: I could be brown, I could be blue, I could be violet sky, I could be hurtful, I could be purple, I could be anything you like.
His voice is an off key falsetto tone at this time. Bobbinette can’t help but to break into a laugh as she looks at him.
Marc: I could be brown, I could be blue, I could be violet sky, I could be hurtful, I could be purple, I could be anything you like.
He lets go of her hand and removes his other hand from around her as he looks at her. She looks around seeing she’s at her front door. She fixes her face and squints at him trying to think of the next course of action.
Bobbinette: Well… that happened.
She says avoiding eye contact. He chuckled as he looked at her.
Marc: I figured I needed to make an impression.
He says, shrugging his shoulders.
Marc: I don’t make it a habit of doing something so ridiculous in the middle of the night in the snow but… you’ll remember this. Good or bad.
He said his hand going to the back of his neck as he starts turning red in a blushing manner. Bobbinette looks up at him and smiles with a nod.
Bobbinette: Fine… after the next show. We can… I don’t know what type of company I’ll be.
Marc: Is this the way to get me to watch your work so I can be prepared?
He teased. She rolled her eyes.
Bobbinette: No, in fact I like that You’re not part of that world. But if you are a plant by someone… so help me, I will make you pay.
Her eyes squint as the mean face of the Q.OE. is visible.
Marc: I mean if you’re into that. My safe word is pumpkin.
Her face turns red as her jaw drops.
Bobbinette: What?
Marc: Don’t threaten me with a good time Miss Carey unless you intend to follow through on it.
He says with a laugh and a wink as he walks away. Bobbinette stands there flabbergasted.
Bobbinette: What just happened?
She sighs loudly and walks into her house
She looks behind her seeing he’s still looking at her. He waves to her as she quickly closes the door behind her.
Bobbinette: I don’t even know what to do about that.
She says, shaking her head. She looks out the window next to the door to see him peeking out his window back at her. He waves causing her to blush more before walking away from the window. She walks into her kitchen and grabs a bottle of water from the fridge. She takes a long sip then remembers her garage door. She opened the side door of her house going to her garage now being joined by her pitbull Duke. Duke runs down the driveway and tries to bite a few snowflakes before running back towards Bobbinette and sliding into the garage wall. Bobbinette laughs, petting him as she grabs her gear bag and heads inside and closes her garage.
Bobbinette: You’re the only guy around here I trust.
She says as she fills up his food dish.
Bobbinette: I trust Darkwing. But he’s not around here.
She says clarifying.
Bobbinette: Maybe if I didn’t have trust issues I wouldn’t have betrayed Scooter…
She sighs heavily.
Bobbinette: March to glory… three falls.. oh and I may be in the tag tournament then too..two matches and I may be missing an eye….
She shivers.
Bobbinette: This is going further than it needs to. Really it doesn’t need to be this…
Her voice seems uneasy as she tries to sit down but seems fidgety.
Bobbinette: I’ll send him a fruit basket. He can’t be this mad..I mean… three matches? Three falls? One of us losing an eye? A beer basket…. Something ..
She looks at herself in her microwave reflection.
Bobbinette: Maybe I am a little to blame for this going this far. Maybe just maybe I was wrong and should have gone about it a different way.. I’ll send him a beer basket he will forgive me, we will hug. And Darkwing and I will capture the tag titles to take me into team epic 2022 wargames..
She wrinkles her nose and scrunches the side of her face.
Bobbinette: We have one more match in our division then we go on… the bad guys. They aren’t even HOW. They are here to make a name for themselves and so far all they made were jokes of themselves. Names that were granted the chance to prove themselves. In a different time maybe they could have had that opportunity.
Duke finishes his bowl of kibble then puts his paws on Bobbinette’s lap. She looks down at him and pets his head.
Bobbinette: I’ve been doing this since I was a teenager. I had to go through a lot of trash to get to HOW. I have been an equal, my face should be on HOW Mount Rushmore. But each generation has names that fit them who they look at as the personification of what wrestling is. What a wrestler would be. And these people are coming in… the house that was built on the blood sweat and tears and passion of wrestling. I get it we play nice with other people… let them come into our house. But I have never been primed to share. If you’re coming into the house Best built you better be able to hang with the legends and be on our level. They aren’t… and it is okay they can lick their wounds… but this isn’t their home. HOW is my home and always will be. I can leave for decades and come back and it will still feel like home. Kostoff, Sektor, Jatt… Darkwing and myself it’s home. And as it is home we defend our home by any means necessary don’t we?
She says looking at her dog who seems excited by what she says. She laughs weakly and yawns. She stands up and grabs a jar on the counter and takes out a treat and tosses it to Duke.
Bobbinette: I proved I’m the superior Bobbie. There was no doubt about it… cardboard weirdos…. Now Mephisto and Blaze claymore.
She rolls her eyes.
Bobbinette: Why should I care? Because they haven’t given me a reason .. maybe they will strike a spark with DW. Something has to… He hasn’t been himself…maybe he won’t ever be his old self, maybe this is who he is now.
She sighs as she heads up the steps towards her bedroom. Her cell phone rings with a California area code. She answers the phone.
Bobbinette: New phone DW? I was just talking about you to the dog.
She laughed. She hears a voice on the other end of the line and stops dead in her tracks.
Bobbinette: Barbra… Yes, hi. I am aware your granddaughter is in Ohio training to wrestle. No, I am not the one who is training her. No I didn’t… yes Barbra. I am sorry you had to call me too… how is my son-
The phone lights up as the call ends. Bobbinette stops on the steps and sits down putting her phone in her pocket.
Bobbinette: Makes me feel like I’m a damn teen in trouble… I’ll talk with my daughter. It’s my fault she is training? No it’s not. They kept me out of her life. It’s not my fault she is more like me than they want… apparently I’m in trouble for something I didn’t do. This is the story of my damn life.
Her face is drained of color. A short phone call took the wind out from under her. She was tired, she was a wash of emotion. She put her head on the banister, closing her eyes for a minute. She took a few cleansing breaths centering herself before she finally pulled herself back up to her feet. She walks into her daughter’s room looking at an empty room. Mimi was at one of the moms squads house tonight. Bobbinette was alone just yet and the dog. She slipped her shoes off as she walked towards her room. She removed her cell phone from her pocket before dropping her blazer on the floor and untucking her t-shirt and crawling into her bed. She plugged her cell phone in before closing her eyes for sleep, ending an exhausting evening.