The Celebration of the Unapologetic Feminist Blerd Pt. 2: How The "Very White" Hobby of Cosplay Made Me Unapologetically Black.. For Good.

When I was young and in middle school, my father sent me to a six week summer program at Blanche Ely High School for writing and creativity. Although the program was beneficial to strengthening my writing skills and love of literature, there was an underlying purpose: To expose me to Black culture, to remind myself that I was in fact, Black, and to do so before it was too late. At the beginning of the program I was afraid. I was afraid of these teenagers who were not much older than me. Although our skin was the same, I assumed we were vastly different. Interestingly enough, until I got to know these fellow campers of mine, I was tokenized by these Black adolescents just as much as I had been by my white friends. The key difference was, their assertions were blatant and often times, mocking. "You sure you're from Fort Lauderdale? I thought you were from way up north? "Is your Daddy rich? You're way too smart. You're going to be valedictorian. Ha! You don't know anything about_______(insert aspect of Black Culture here). Of course you don't. It figures. Oh my god! Listen to the way that this girl speaks...." At the end of summer writing camp, we were all in tears. No one wanted to separate. No wanted to return to their side of the property line. We were all so much happier existing in this neutral loving space. I had pages and pages of spoken word, free verse , song lyrics. I had learned to speak ebonics and "proper English vernacular" simultaneously. I had learned to code switch. Me! Who always made sure to never use contractions in her school writing assignments. I learned that what really separated me from those kids was 95N, gerrymandering and the stark difference between an A school and a C+ school. When we were forced to spend time focusing on what we had in common instead of what divided us, we found, I had some "hood" in me and they had whole lot of "nerd" buried deep inside of them. I give you this little vignette so you understand the full context of my overwhelming joy as I now describe my account at my first ever Black Geeks Shoot and the POC MeetUp just a mere three weeks ago at DragonCon....

Sunday September 4th was a gorgeous day. The sun made my dark brown skin radiate with light and love. I could see the city skyline behind me while standing adjacent to the Hilton Hotel steps. The world around me just seemed so filled with promise. I was pinching myself repeatedly because I just met and befriended two Black female cosplayers who I had been following for months. I could not believe the ease with which we introduced ourselves and how within minutes we were all laughing and giggling like we had grown up together since kindergarten. I had been asked to help advertise the meetup to populate the photoshoot and it was a task I took seriously. For every Black Cosplayer who arrived, I grinned from ear to ear, reached out to shake their hand and said "Good Morning! How are you? You look wonderful! Although many people were late (This was a Black People run and attended photoshoot...come on..it was bound to happen) everyone was greeted by directors organizers and fellow attendees like old extended family. My stomach would have loved it if this family reunion had literally be followed by a feast, but I can tell you my soul was more than satiated with this heaping helping of solidarity,  with a side of community and a side of positivity. The shoot was beautiful. We were silly at times, we were serious at other times. We used our characters and cosplays to speak to a much larger issue than "Black Heroes Matter" Our presence demonstrated that we were called to gather in fellowship and we heeded that call like the Cape Crusader himself heeded the bright light of The Bat Signal. Our presence demonstrated that our numbers are growing and we deserve a place in the greater fandom. We deserve a place as fans, as writers, as creators and as ambassadors of "Blerdom". I remember re-posting a blog from the very cosfamous Maki Roll's Chop Shop who vocally embraced being a Blerd and how while she respected her fellow black nerds for choosing not to utilize the term, she loves identifying as a Blerd. I do not lament when people call me a blerd or a bleek or a blerdette, even. I take it as a compliment. Moreover, I take it as an affirmation of my complex identity. For you see, I am Black and then everything else (a woman, a scholar, a friend, a partner... ) For too long I was foolish. I believed that you had to dissociate from being Black in order to do well, in order to be liked and respected. I once reluctantly held onto to the term "Oreo" and tried to reclaim it because at least it was proof that I somewhat..fit in? Today in 2016, I am Black. I am Black before everything else. If I am in a situation where I am stopped by cops, I will be Black. They will not see a woman who had the fortune/misfortune to be raised and assimilated into lily white suburbia. They will not see a woman engaged to a white partner and poised to marry into a very lily white family. They will not see that I wear ridiculous childish knee high school socks better fit for a 4th grader in 1998. They will so not see I am clutching onto my laptop which contains collected data for research that in summation is supposed to advocate for equality and a better human condition. Nay, they will see that I am Black. They will see that I am a threat. So, forgive me and allow me to relieve running around in masks and tights with my newly formed extended family over and over and over again. I would like to say we will all be reunited in 2017, but who is to say? We are not even safe behind this literal mask that we wear. And that is fact. Black Heroes Matter. Black Lives Matter. Stop treating us like red shirts or the first black person to appear in a horror movie. Allow us a chance to live and love authentically. Let us do this and you will finally see, we were never a threat. Do this and you can finally say that we are all human. Until then, do not tell us how to feel, do not tell us how to think. We live in multiple realities but we are trying our very best to survive this one.