Black Girls Be Having Gun Anxiety

So yesterday, my brother, father and I popped into Gander Mtn, that outdoor/adventure/zombie apocalypse survivalist store. I immediately gravitated to the ugly but really comfortable sandals that my white friends wear.

hiking sandal

Ya’ll know ya’ll got white friends that wear these.

And my 15 year old brother immediately noticed the back wall lined with guns. After walking through the shoe section (Them thangs are EXPENSIVE!) I browsed through the rest of the store until I got to the back. I had never seen so many guns in my whole life. Just rows and rows of guns.

gander guns


I didn’t even stop I just kept walking past all of these guns. And as I was walking my heart started beating fast and my breathing quickened. I was having an anxiety attack!

I don’t have a problems with guns, in fact I grew up with one in the house. My dad was NYPD and I distinctly remember the day he brought me into his room and let me hold his emptied gun and reinforced that it was not a toy.  I also remember him coming home every night with his gun on his waist that I felt press against me as I ran to give him a hug. And after 9/11 we went to a WNBA game at Madison Square Garden and there were armed forces in full combat gear. I didnt understand what they were protecting us from. I still dont really.

And then in college, this guy picked me up to watch movies at his house. When he got to his place, he unclipped this pink gun from his waist and sat it on the table in front of me. I was confused because I didn’t know if I was supposed to be impressed, or feel his manliness or if he was trying to say something else that he wasn’t audacious enough to say out loud. We ended up watching I Can Do Bad All By Myself and playing Scrabble. Before he put down his first word he said, “I hope that one day maybe you and I can have this,” and put down L-O-V-E. 14 points. Needless to say I beat him and I never went to his house again.

I really don’t know what it was that upset me by seeing all those guns. Maybe it was thinking about the shootings in my hometown in the last year, or that the white man standing next to my brother and father at the gun counter looked like he would shoot first and ask questions later. I dont know… something just didn’t feel right.

What's your blues?

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