Two Faced Kings

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                Being a black male in the workforce is very challenging, we always have to wear two faces. One face is the work face aka the plantation face aka “If I wasn’t on the clock I’d fuck you up, I’m doing just enough to not get fired” face. And we have our normal face when we are with family and friends. It grinds my f*ckin’ gears to the point that I am not functional when I think about my two faces. My work face has gotten me promotions and better enslavement opportunities, but it’s so damn fake. I cannot stand being fake and playing a game designed by someone that makes it too difficult for brothas like me to win.

                The work face is stressful, you always have to be on point and a few steps ahead of your coworkers. There’s a lot of planning that goes in to the work face. You have to always be smiling and be a ray of sunshine for people. That way they won’t feel threatened and they know that you’re so thankful for having that bullshit gig. If you don’t smile brotha, you’re going to have a sit down with HR about workplace conduct and threats to fellow coworkers. So stay smiling, brotha.

                The next part of the work face is the ability to laugh at bullshit jokes from coworkers. You know that shit aint funny but you laugh and say, “That’s a good one, Tim.” Again you don’t want your coworkers over at HR whispering, “I think something is wrong with A.B. He doesn’t laugh or joke at all. He’s always serious at work. I think he’s going to erupt and hurt someone.” So your black ass is back sitting down with HR and this time they brought in a specialist to help you cope with your “anger issues”. Not to mention the loss prevention team has every incident logged where you didn’t display your normal house slave character, oops I mean you didn’t act in an ethical manner that supported the company’s strategic initiatives. You should’ve laughed at Tim’s joke, fam.

                The next part of the work face is becoming the token black guy. Use cool phrases from the late 80’s and mid 90’s. And greet them with cliché handshakes that they saw on sports center. “Gimme some skin, my man!” This makes your coworkers feel a lot cooler and gives them a sense of what it’s like to be black. Don’t take offense to them when they greet each other with “Hello, how’s blah blah blah?” and they greet you with, “Yo, (insert some 90’s slang for friend like home skillet or playa) What’s up man?” followed by weird handshake and hug embrace. You gotta go with the flow, joe. Cause if not, your black ass is right back in HR not only with the anger issues specialist/therapist, but they’ve also brought in actors that will teach you tolerance in the work place and your stuck acting out scenarios for the next 3 weekends of some “showing others respect” workshop. Should’ve shucked harder and jived with intensity.

                The last part of the work face is to hinder your star. Brotha they don’t want to hear about your accomplishments unless it’s how many baby mamas you got or if you put rims on the Civic coupe. Don’t threaten them with your outstanding GPA from college, show them your black fraternity dance moves. Make sure you bring that candy cane staff also, to twirl around and do tricks with on your lunch break. If they are speaking about something you know great detail about, shut the fuck up and let them explain it to you like you’ve never heard of it. A series of “wow” “oh, that’s fantastic” “really? Tell me more.” “I didn’t know that.” “that’s amazing” will always suffice. If you don’t do that, then your black ass is right back sitting down with HR signing your resignation papers. Why? Because someone went to the EEOC and the local police and complained about your black panther exploits. They also got wind that you were stealing cleaning supplies to make a deadly concoction of chemicals and kool-aid and serve it during lunch while you were twirling that candy cane staff.

                Oh, I forgot about the fellow negro bashing. That is huge if you want to move up in the workplace and get that .16₵  raise, fam’ron. If you work in a department that has a fellow negro-sapien, that is your competition. Do not work with that brotha or sista, you work against them and make them look bad at all cost.

                All jokes aside being a black male in the corporate white male world is like being in “job interview” mode for 8+hrs a day. I am working towards my freedom. What about you, brotha?

Twitter: @OmahaHostage

Amerikkkan Me.

  I am at a crossroads with this new position that I am in at my plantation. I am making damn good money, but how much is my soul worth? That’s the question I keep asking myself. I know that I deserve this promotion, but I’m not about hindering who I am to keep these paychecks coming in. “Domino, domino, only spot a few blacks the higher I go…”

  Others see me in this position of power and it gives them hope. It gives them reason to keep striving towards the top, but I’m at “the top” and I see a reflection when I look higher. The glass ceiling. Is this what it’s all about: making $40k a year, skinning and grinning, while the pressure builds in your life outside of work to the point that all you have is the glass ceiling? This can’t be life. I’m 30, I told my mom and grandma that I would be my own boss by 35, my grandma laughed at me, but my mom believed in me. I believe in me. I have two ventures that I am working on, DND and Black Omaha. I am letting this new job get the best of me and take up so much of my time outside of work. I know that I am salaried, but I need to just donate 8hrs to that plantation and nothing more. I am using the excess money to fund DND and Black Omaha. I am growing impatient because I see how this story ends, I’m just not a fan of rough beginnings. 

  Back to this 9 to 5…I thought I wanted the stuffy clothes, the power meetings, the work email attached to my iPhone…I don’t. I want my tattoos to show, I want to be able to spend more time with those that I love. I never thought that I would say that I value freedom over money. You would think that not having money for so long and finally getting it you would do anything to keep it…wrong. Freedom > $$$. Cash doesn’t rule everything around me. I honestly believe that you can do what you love and get paid for it. You don’t have to suffer to succeed. You just need an amazing work ethic and positive outlook on life. 

  The Amerikkkan dream wants you to work hard at a job you hate and then retire at 65. Only then can you enjoy your freedom. After you have wasted 40+ years of waking up early, taking sh*t from your boss, stressing over deadlines etc. I don’t want to wait until I’m retired to enjoy my life and those around me. Why can’t I enjoy the retirement lifestyle at age 38? Who says that I can’t? The tv? The newspaper? The blogs? Politicians? Fuck em. Some people are fine working for others and waiting on the good to come to them, that’s fine. For them. Not me. This is Amerikkka, the country that once loved and cherished the self-made man/woman. They still do, but in this era you don’t see the hardwork that they put in, you just see the final product and the media spins it like it’s some sort of overnight success story.

  I know I can do it. It’s just overwhelming at times being the first to do it. I gotta regain focus and turn this 9 to 5 money into buy money. I will only be happy once I am my own boss.

Keep Fighting The Good Fight.
Twitter: @OmahaHostage and @Black_Omaha