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Apparently, I don’t speak plainly enough for people.

It only got worse after I went to college.

I speak and write in the way that is comfortable to me, and helps me express myself best. If people can’t understand me, then I can’t stop being me for them. Besides, I like to talk to people who actually have time to talk to me, not people who want me blurb my whole life for them—these be the same fuckas who ask you how you’re doing but don’t really care.

I’m not trying to be uppity and uptight. I’m not trying to flaunt my degree or use inaccessible language. I’ve always been like this, I think. I speak in emotions, ideals, passion, concepts, and philosophy.

For all this talk about how you need a college degree, America has constructed a society where what you learn in school is ultimately useless. And if you’re a working class person who gets to go into higher education, all it does is alienate you despite the fact that most working class and poor people who are born in this class status remain there for the rest of their lives.

I was told I was reading on the college level when I was in the 7th grade, whatever that means to the white people who decided what that means; nobody took the time to listen to me or get to know me so I spent most of my time reading and writing. When I first started going to college, no one understood me because of my slight Southern drawl and the fact that I still spoke Black english (AAVE) regardless of how “well-spoken” they thought I was.

Black english for a lot of people is punctuated by its succinctness. I’ve never been brief. *checks the length of this post*

And that’s okay. I’m learning not to waste time on people who aren’t worth the words it takes to treat them like a human being, not a calculator.

You don’t have time for that? I don’t have time for you.

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