To me her position in life has always been uncertain, even though she was always in the perfect position to learn from others mistakes. She made her own mistakes. Her environment helped to mature her in ways that only women from the ghettos of America can relate to. Seeing her sisters’ pregnancies, abusive relationships, misrepresentations of love come and go, she grew from this. She was wise enough not to idolize them but to empathize with the struggles they faced in the tangled webs they labeled as life. She was strong enough to be a protector and role-model to those younger than herself; she set forth to shine in the most important of ways, with morally high standards.
Yet, even Silk-E, could not leave this ghetto without the taint of poverty and ignorance sullying the perfection God created. Even her perspectives of herself were diminished through the eyes of the judges of our hoods. Like every person, she was three people: who she thought she was, who everyone thought she was, and who she really was. Wanting the best of both worlds, she lost her true identity to the cycle that has confused and kept us submissive in our ignorance. Married in an abusive and diluted culture, a waning demographic, and an eroding environment, she stressed the need for change. While she took care of those younger than herself, she felt as if she never had anyone to call on to understand her, to help her in her times of need. She became recklessly independent, calloused and masculine, like so many other single mothers of this poisonous ilk.
True love has once whispered its satisfaction across her lips. Widowed by the statistics of black America, gunshots burying another black man under the age of 25, drugs and liquor were the only tangible sedative to carry her through her mourning. She was left to pray for forgiveness for sins committed for release from the vices of this cycle that don’t leave room for growth.
Silk-E is still three people, and yet she is nobody if you ask her. Or, she picks the least valued characteristics of them all to define herself. She is one, only one of our women suffering from identity crisis. Pains replaced by tattoos, piercing, and drugs. Under the mascara and lipstick is the true foundation of our culture. From their wombs come our future, our chance at redemption, equality and change. From these beautiful women come our hope but only if she can realize her own self-value, her importance of the contributions she makes to our cultures. The way that she completes us as men; the one who dares us to stand firmly before her and our children as pillars. Her resilience gives us the strength to remain focused and determined in our execution of our goals to succeed and to excel. Until she and those like her regain their natural feminine qualities, until we help them refine themselves, we will continue to reside in a state of submission, ignorance and poverty.
So I ask, who is this Sexy Intelligent Lady Knocking Everyone out.