.
Black Man..
Brotha to Brotha, are you ok?
I’m asking a serious question..
I’m seeing more of us attacking our women online,
I’m seeing more of us engaging into women topics,
I’m seeing more of us arguing with women over things that lack substance..
I’m hearing more of us aligning ourselves with an open racist in office..
Are we a movement or are we tap dancing?
We don’t have to yes sir massa for a seat at the table,
Create our own table..
I’m asking again, black man are we ok?
Don’t send me shit trying to prove your point about Trump..
I don’t give.. A.. Fuck..
Snap out of it nigga!
This ain’t a thread, this is a mirror.
Look at us..
debating podcasts instead of policy,
arguing algorithms instead of ownership,
loud in comment sections, silent in city halls,
protecting feelings of white men
while our sisters carry the weight of the world
and still get blamed for the cracks.
When did we start confusing masculinity with resentment?
When did discipline become “soft”?
When did reading become “feminine”?
When did protecting Black women become optional?
You don’t sound strong tearing down the ones
who birthed you, fed you, marched for you,
bailed you out, prayed you through.
We used to build institutions.
Now we build opinions.
We used to study strategy.
Now we study outrage.
We used to move as units.
Now we move as egos.
You mad at women because you don’t feel powerful..
but power don’t come from shouting,
it comes from responsibility.
It comes from showing up when nobody’s clapping.
It comes from providing, protecting, planning.
It comes from shutting the fuck up long enough to learn.
And let’s talk about that vote.
We didn’t vote for a Black woman
because we couldn’t stomach a woman leading us..
so you chose a man who despises you.
That ain’t rebellion, that’s insecurity dressed as logic.
That ain’t freedom thinking, that’s colonized masculinity.
You didn’t vote your future,
you voted your ego.
Our ancestors didn’t dodge dogs, bullets, chains, and prisons
for you to cosplay oppression online
while shaking hands with the same systems
that profit from your confusion.
They weren’t perfect—but they were disciplined.
They read.
They organized.
They built schools, banks, movements, patrols, kitchens, futures.
Now look at us.
More worried about “winning debates”
than winning land.
More invested in “gender wars”
than economic war.
More loyal to political idols
than to our own bloodline.
Brotha..
this softness ain’t emotion, it’s avoidance.
This loudness ain’t leadership, it’s fear.
This blaming women ain’t strength, it’s weakness leaking.
Man the fuck up doesn’t mean be cruel.
It means be accountable.
It means do the work when it’s boring.
It means stop outsourcing your manhood to podcasts,
politicians, and viral clips.
Black man..
stand up.
Stand for something bigger than your pride.
Stand for your family.
Stand for your community.
Stand for a future that requires sacrifice.
We don’t need saviors.
We need builders.
We don’t need approval.
We need alignment.
We don’t need permission.
We need discipline.
Our ancestors are calling,
not whispering.
Calling.
So I’m asking you one last time,
brotha to brotha..
are you ok?
If not, wake up.
Get in line.
Build something.
Protect Black women.
Protect Black children.
Protect your name.
Black man..
stand the fuck up.
