Vitória De Castro Jesús, Universidade Bandeirantes
There are days I do not want to struggle. There are days when all I want to do is wake up and have a quiet cup of coffee, take a long bath, and be able to wear clothes without having to think that it will send a message.
I want to be able to straighten my hair without being sure that it is a mark of resistance or wear makeup without having to mix two different tones because everything is too light or too dark. I want to be able to talk to white people without having to deconstruct racism or having to prove to everyone that my blackness is not only the color of my skin but in my soul and the intensity of my struggle.
I imagine one day not having to argue with idiot men who think that jokes about my Black friend are funny. I imagine a day when I can enter a store and not have to beg someone to attend to me, being able to walk down the street without being called "mackerel", "mulata", or "fat ass." I want a black man by my side to go hand in hand with, without the awareness that Black love is a political act.
Can I spend a day without remembering that I lost friends to bullets and others to suicide in a system that infects and makes us sick? A system that kills us to pieces, a genocide. My black sister's retreat unaware and unappreciative that they are black, like me, they are the perfect lovers ... sexual toys.
I ask just for one day without knowing the blatant lies that whiteness and its allies spit in our faces. One day I won't have to pray to God for my father's safety as he walks to and from work; for him to not be confused and killed by corrupt police officers. The same prayer I must repeat for the Black parents of my friends, my cousins, and mysself... one day without this bullshit... everything ...
Because there are days ... there are days that I do not want this struggle , that I do not want to fight, not to cry, not to suffer ... I just wanted to know what it's like to live.