As we saw after the R. Kelly documentary, people will lay blame on everyone and everything rather than the responsible party—the perpetrator, the adult that knows better than a child. Victim blaming has a long history but it digs deeper with Black girls, who are held to different standards. A 2017 Georgetown University study found that adults viewed Black girls as less innocent, more adult-like than their white counterparts, making them less likely to feel pain, thus aware and culpable of their actions and decisions. When these narratives are perpetuated, it translates into the messaging that men are unable to control themselves and you, as a Black girl, know this so you really brought these painful traumatic experiences upon yourself. We put Black girls at risk of internalizing this rational, impeding on their confidence while it’s been proven the adultification of black girls directly correlates to their criminalization in schools as well as contributes to the sexual abuse-to-prison pipeline.
Black girls are called grown for dancing while other girls are called cute. Black girls are called grown for the curves of their bodies while others are called fine young women. Black girls are called grown for knowing about sex while others are called responsibly sex positive. No one ever takes a moment to recognize that the people who are over-sexualizing Black girls are the very people that should be protecting their childhood.
But now, thanks to many brave women along with the #MeToo movement, people are being held accountable at record numbers, and it’s time to do away with the antiquated concept of being “grown.” We should be uplifting young girls, providing safe spaces, and ensuring their boundaries will be respected without retribution. We should focus more on protecting and affirming their right to unmeasured happiness, and less on programming them to fear the danger they may attract. In this day and age, we must give them agency and trust their judgement but not be too far off to let them fall.
Back at Jouvert, I watched the girl’s expression change and a rush of adrenaline filled me. What would my aunties do? Would my sister have my back if things escalated? What would my uncle say? But I didn’t even take two steps before the girl spun around and, though I couldn’t hear over the loud music, I sensed a proverbial word beating took place. The man shrugged and backed off, already on the hunt to find another bumper to dance on. I released the breath I’d been holding and watched the group of girls dance away, full of joy and carefree.
As they always should be.
Article Appeared @https://www.cosmopolitan.com/politics/a33914453/black-girls-grown-tiffany-jackson/