Treachery of the “Field”

​There was something very eerie about a “slave” oppressor, sitting on the porch, watching Black people pick cotton, as if it was a spectator sport. 

“Woman get me some more lemonade!”

Overseers serving as referees and as long as you had white skin, you had season tickets to the game. Imageries of lemonade, sweat, a beating sun and no refuge for Black people encapsulates my psyche. To only have a good owner, that would not trade you. I mean sell you to another plantation was the desire of most. And I know that for this history to ever be repeated again, you would have to pay Black folks millions. Hmmmmmmm. 

We once longed to escape the treachery of the “field” but now just being on it, holds great honor, not only to the player but the spectator alike. Imagine having seats to your favorite sports team’s game. Imagine a tall glass of lemonade, sweat beating down your brow and watching your favorite player making the play. Make the play. Pick the cotton before sun down. We are in the 4th quarter. 

I am torn by the irony of it all. I am torn by how America buries it’s painful past by just passing the ball. I am reminded that history can repeat itself, no has repeated itself. But the mask, helmet of racism doesn’t protect us. As there are many Black Men making millions on the field, while there are so many more, on those prison fields. I’m your woman, even during football season. Stop ignoring me. As we say we get it, we don’t because the owner won’t allow a player to take a knee? I ain’t pass that shit Jay Z. 

I want to say, I am so proud of Jay Z’s moves into the NFL. His grind is one of Toussaint L'Ouverture; can I get an Encore.  But you can’t move like they move. You have to speak against the systematic racism that is still in the league. You have to give Kap some love. But most importantly, you have to remove these plantation politics from the game. I am proud though. Jigga What!!!!