In 1996, veteran comedian and actordid something beautiful for black women all over the nation.
He wrote and co-produced the movie "A Thin Line Between Love and Hate." It was based on the hit song of the same name by The (mighty mighty) Persuaders, and was later equally matched by the movie written by appropriately named "Diary of a Mad Black Woman." Martin played lead character, Darnell Wright (yes, I know that Darnell...). who thought he was 'Mr. Lovalova', until Lynn Whitfield's sharp, savvy, upscale professional black woman's character, Brandi Webb, a self-made millionaire in the real estate business, taught him a lesson he would never forget. As Mama, played by singer/actress Della Reese, told him "One night of passion can lead to a lifetime of pain." Don't we know it.
The story told in the Persuaders song is about a man who was cheating on his woman -- doesn't tell us whether they were married or not and for purposes of this story, it doesn't matter. He comes home late one night, about five am, as a matter of fact, and this woman, finally fed up with her man's philandering ways, decides she's had enough.
She lets him in and smiles, and she is sweet as pickled humble pie. She hangs up his coat, his hat, fixes him something to eat ... and waits for the right moment.
The Persuaders move the music and the mood of it into the final swaying lines ... there is a thin line between the sweetest woman in the world and the meanest woman in the world, who has taken all she can until she can't take any more; and finally snaps.
Her grief then does all of her talking for her and the truth comes out. People who are angry and hurt to that level never issue warnings or idle threats. What folk really need to fear is the one who smiles at them and never says a word.
Black men knew all along about a black woman's special brand of internal pain, and our brother and Pastor Rev. Jomo K Johnson writes about this pain in an almost apologetic manner in his book "Call Tyrone: Why Black Women Should Remain Single Or..." It starts off with a beautiful poem that tells black women that black men really owe us an apology for the hurt and pain they've caused, and the excuses and the let-downs of the black families that they've blamed on whites when it was really up to them to turn that sour lemon in history into lemonade.
He looks at the pain black men have caused black women from a historical-spiritual perspective that asks black men, in essence, how long are they going to keep making excuses for the wrongs that have turned the black family into white America's corn meal mush.
I think about all of the black men out there who did do the right thing by their families ... even my oldest son, of whom I can rightfully say is "in love" with his two children. He said "Mama, they are attached to my hip like Siamese twins..." And my son Eric, who is the master and commander of his two daughters and watches over them like a vicious hawk and combination sheep dawg.
That's when I know there really is no excuse for the Reginald Greene's of the world who will leverage any old excuse to move themselves away from responsibility and commitment ... and shirk the duties of being real black men. These are the ones who leave black women on welfare, in homeless shelters, and on the streets in anguish of their very lives; and yet, they deceive themselves into believing that they are actually good men deep inside when they are really anything but.
Your actions, black men, do all of your talking for you.
It's not what you say about yourself, it is the trail of death and despair and destruction that you leave behind that does all of your talking for you. Only a weak punk of a man would leverage a white woman against something that held him up and fought for him when no one else would. There again, any man who would leave his "baby mama" and his three daughters in the streets and spend his money on back door magazine sex, baseball magazines, weights, and anabolic steroids would be inclined to do the same thing to his wife.
Angry Black Women of the World, if you're going to make that deep a move as to marry a man, take a long hard look at the way he has treated the women in his life before you came along. If they are in the streets and barely surviving when you meet him, chances are that you are next. [Note: We don't do PreNups, we do EXIT PLANS. I learned that one the hard way, but then I'm asexual and there isn't a man in the world perfect enough to make me go that route again. So, whoomp there it is.]
A strong black man is always surrounded by strong black women who can tell the stories of their goodness and honor far above and beyond their imperfections. And those angrier black women will, again, have to bear, feed, and nurture some black man who will do the same and repeat the cycle. If she is angry, she has good cause and good reason ... and the world bears witness to that anger, because she is exactly as she should be. That is never anything for her to be ashamed of, or even to rid herself of.
In one of Tyler's movies, his infamously beloved and hated "fat black female" character Madea, was having a round with Dr. Phil about her "anger management issues" that he, in his white lie of a world, was trying to tell her she needed to get under control. Madea's only thought was, why should I try to change myself to make me what you think I ought to be?
In a nutshell, she told him "I'm not angry. I'm just being myself. What are you all upset about? Because you can't control me, so you think my being who I am is anger? I'm not angry, but I can see you're having a fit trying to figure out why I'm angry." Sure, it was cyclical reasoning on her part, but the character Madea was, in fact, in character ... just being herself. Rough exterior from years of having to kick butt where a butt-kicking was due. She was never angry, always calm; but she always tells the truth. People who can't deal with the truth hear anger where there is none.
People in America, particularly whites, have a hard time accepting black women for who they are; the way God created us. They didn't even know we actually cry until Oprah showed up on TV and got paid a billion dollars to do it over and over again.
There is always something to be angry about ... black women are human and their loyalties to black men go above and beyond "the pale," or what they are called to do by God. If a man can't accept the Lord's sacrifice on the cross to save his black-a#$ soul, then he needs to die and go straight to hell. It is not our job to save him from himself.
But we do ... because, on the other hand, they might be a hot ghetto mess, but they are OUR hot ghetto messes, and truly the rest of the world needs to jump the eff off and leave us, and them, alone.
So the question and the quest becomes how to use that anger, which is a good thing, for the greater good of our own sons and daughters.
The world has always belonged to mitochondrial Eve, for it was our ancestral beginnings that rooted and founded the world.