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“We are not afraid.”

Lynchings are designed to terrorize us.
To keep us powerless.
Voiceless.
Silenced.
In bondage.

No more.

We will NOT be intimidated.

Lynching has been used as a public spectacle to keep White Supremacy’s knee on our necks.

But we are not having it.

So in service of you not letting hate wage psychological, mental and spiritual warfare on your soul—and your peace—I have curated resources. I also provided an in-depth and inspirational teaching on how each act of terrorism and violence that is acted out on our bodies, actually works FOR US. #godissofaithful

Click here to check it out.

So be encouraged, sis. Watch the video. It will help you stand in your power as we stand for our freedom.

I have also included a TON of resources for you to read or view for your own revolutions.

IMPORTANT NOTICE: FOR OUR WHITE ALLIES I HAVE INCLUDED A FILM THAT IS THE TRUTH!! Check the resources in the attached post. It will blow your mind WIDE open!

Please remember as we move through this historical moment: it gets worse before it gets better. So you have to tend to YOU as we stand. No struggle no progress. Knowledge is power.

Empower yourself by watching the lesson and reading the resources.

I love you.

Dr. Venus

Happy Father’s Day to my Uncle Jesse

He “fathered” all of us. It’s because of him I’m alive. He took me in when Momma put me out. He took time with me and supported me when I needed it the most. Uncle Jesse is what is known as a “Good Black Man.” He is an entrepreneur and has been all of my life. He is a master electrician and an all around handyman. Uncle Jesse can fix anything.

One of my favorite memories is us running/ jogging around a lake. I was young but he was fit! :rolling_on_the_floor_laughing::joy::rolling_on_the_floor_laughing: He left me in the dust!! Then he took me to get a chicken box from the Korean joint on Broadway.

Please share one of your favorite memories of a “Good Black Man,” be it your father or a father figure. Let’s change the narrative about Black Men – from being violent, stupid, a waste, to good, kind, and there for us. No man is perfect. All have sinned and fallen short. But that does not negate the love.

Today, I choose to celebrate the love.

Let me hear from you and share this “Good Black Man Challenge.” People are quick to share the negative, let’s see how quickly we can share the positive memories of Black Men on Father’s Day.

#fathersday #blackmen #blm #myblackisbeautiful

Wealth = Freedom

Natasha posted this quote from my Black Woman Millionaire book and it made my heart smile. Having our own money is spitting in the face of history.

Wealth = Freedom.

Every movement, dream, cause needs to be financed.

Having our OWN money empowers our stand for freedom, safety, and justice. Donations are just as important as marches.

Somebody has to write the check. To fund campaigns, pay for grassroots organizations to thrive, to buy ads to get in front of potential voters. When it comes to social change, money matters.

When you learn how to bring in money from what you know instead of what you do, YOU can write the check. With a whole lot of zeros.

The good news is it’s learnable. And easier than you think. We use to BE the capitol that financed democracy. Juneteenth is the day that serves as a reminder that we are no longer working for free.

Juneteenth is our Independence Day.

Celebrate. 

I was WRONG About Trump…


I was WRONG about Trump. He’s Not a Racist. He’s A White Supremacist and if you don’t know the difference it could cost us the election in November.

Just to get us on the same page, here are the definitions of the two terms:

RACISM
noun: racism
prejudice, discrimination, or antagonism directed against a person or people on the basis of their membership of a particular racial or ethnic group, typically one that is a minority or marginalized.


WHITE SUPREMACY
white su·prem·a·cy
noun: white supremacy; plural noun: white supremacies
the belief that white people are superior to those of all other races, especially the black race, and should, therefore, dominate society.

Simply put: 
racism is a series of discriminatory actions.
White Supremacy is an ideology.

An ideology that is so absolute it shapes ALL actions in order to know itself; in order to exist as consciousness and DEPENDENT on external validation to keep itself in existence.

As far as Hitler was concerned, Jewish people should be exterminated. It was his birth right to “cleanse” society.

I have compiled a number of resources, including a link to register to vote, as well as a detailed lesson on how to STOP letting White Supremacy rob you of your power, your voice, and your vote.

Please read this post for the resources and watch this video to get educated about how White Supremacy is pimping YOUR pain to build its power. And how to stop being used.
https://www.facebook.com/DrVenusOpalReese/videos/2716151315375847/

I love you. 

Even though it feels like sh$t, we are actually winning. How do I know? White Supremacy is showing its ugly. It’s escalating. In EVERY historical moment of change, things got worse before they got better. 

Our job is to stay the course, stand, take actions that dismantle White Supremacy, and VOTE. If your vote wasn’t so valuable, why would they go to such lengths to suppress it? Or try to intimate us with violence? 

Don’t be fooled.

We are the change.

Keep going… until victory is won. 

Dr. Venus

Ps: if you don’t want to watch the teaching, read the post and check out the resources. Pick one or two and read them. And if you haven’t already, register to vote. Your vote is your voice. Use it. The link is in the video post. Go there now. 

https://www.facebook.com/DrVenusOpalReese/videos/2716151315375847/

Mommas.

There are Mothers and then there are Mommas.

Mothers give birth.
Mommas sacrifice.

Mothers feed and clothe.
Mommas give their babies the food off their plates and the shirts off their backs.

Mothers teach their children to respect the law.

Mommas teach their children to be afraid of the law so they don’t end up outlined in chalk on the sidewalk.

Killing George is no different than Massa selling children away from their Mommas just because he could.

Or Police Officers murdering Black People and then bragging about it, even video taping their hunt, to show their Brothers in Arms.

Never comprehending that that Nigga Ahmaud was some Momma’s baby boy.

That Black b^tch Breonna was some Momma’s babygirl.
“Momma!”

When George called for her and the world watched as the life left his body, every Momma—dead and alive—heard his cry.
And none of us could do anything to stop it.

“Momma!”
“Momma! I’m through.”
8 minutes and 46 seconds.
3 knees.
2 clawing into his back.
1 lethal on his neck.
“Momma!”

How many Black men cried out to their Mommas in the final moments before a Police Officer/KKK/Slave Catcher turned another Black body into a Black Momma’s deepest fear?

Larcenia carried her baby boy in her belly for nine months, just like White Women do.
She dreamed of her baby having a good life, doing better, having more than life had allotted her as a Black Woman.
Just like White people do.

“Momma!” Last word he used his last breaths to utter while the Police Officer pressed harder on his windpipe for having the audacity to make a sound while being “subdued.”

So now we weep.
An endless stream of salt tears from the Atlantic.

So now we morn.
The death of the illusion called equality.

Now we march.
Until victory is won.

So another Momma NEVER has to be terrorized watching the News broadcasting her child being publicly executed for a twenty dollar f$cking bill.

Title: Mommas
By: Dr. Venus Opal Reese

JusticeForGeorgeFloyd #BlackLivesMatter

#georgefloyd #ahmaudarbery #ericgarner #tamirrice #freddiegray #michaelbrown #greggunn #breonnataylor #michaeldean #bothamjean #atatianajefferson

All Lives Matter?

I Cry For You

“COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS UP!”
“Is this your car?
“You fit the description.”
“Resisting Arrest.”
“PUT YOUR HANDS WHERE I CAN SEE THEM BOY!”
“That Black Man assaulted me! Arrest him!”
“He tried to rape me!”
“I feared for my life!”
“Who the hell do you think you are nigger???”
“Oh, you one of them “uppity” niggers, huh?”
“SHUT UP!
“You have no rights!!”
“You in the wrong neighborhood, boy.”
“He looks suspicious. Shoot him.”
“He was stealing.”
“He was high.”
“He had a gun… I thought.”
“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! My baby!! They shot my baby!!!! GODDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD!!!!!

The clan doesn’t wear hoods anymore.
They wear badges.

Serve and protect.

Who protects Black Men from a bullet to the back–
or a knee on his neck
or being followed, terrorized, toyed with,
left bleeding out in a patch of dry yellow grass and weeds?

Shot in his home.
Shot on the street.
Shot in the stairwell.
42 times.

Did the police think one bullet would kill your body but emptying clips would kill your memory?

The most abused body in human history is the Black Male Body.

Being killed by the police is the leading cause of death of Black Men in America.
Not heart attacks.
Not diabetes.
Not old age.

Police Officers who turn Black Men’s pain into their own personal power.

The targeting and attack on the Black Male Body is as old as this country.

And just as vicious.
Tarring. Feathering. Whipping. Lynchings.

My Father.
My Brother.
My Uncle.
My Nephew.
My Cousin.
My Lover.
My Homie.
My Friend.

I weep for you.

I feel helpless. Incapable of offering you safety.
Peace.
Due process.
The benefit of the doubt.

Nothing I have–not my education, money, access, connection, resource, intention– can keep you alive when a Police Officer gets insulted because you stood for yourself. Or not. Just jogging is enough to have the blood rush to your lips once the shots tear threw your terrorized flesh.

I weep for you.

We, the ones who say we love you, have never created a safe space for you.
We’ve insisted you make one for us and then called you out by name
when you didn’t have the capability to give us something that was NEVER given to you.

I apologize.

I have villainized you like White people have.
You were enslaved just like I was.
You have suffered the trauma of history just as I have.
And yet, because you are a “man” I put obligations and
expectations on you that you were never equipped to fulfill.

Forgive me for my selfishness.
For my gender privilege.
For acting like you owed me or did something wrong.
You have been running for your life ever since the Middle Passage.

Forgive me for making you feel less because I make more.
Forgive me for not believing you.
Forgive me for putting my feelings about your survival.

I have been part of the problem.
I never let you be a human.
Just as afraid as me.
Just as vulnerable as me.
More.

I never made a safe space for you to tell me the truth.
To cry.
To share.
To be afraid.

I am so sorry.
I know I can’t stop the White Supremacist in dark Blue
from playing Russian roulette with your life.

I can listen.
I can witness.
I can stand with you.
So you know you are not so terribly alone in this world.

There is no hierarchy for pain.
But right now, I choose to put your pain above my own…

I love you Black Man.
I am here for you.
You are not alone.

And… I cry for you…

Title: I Cry For You
By. Dr. Venus Opal Reese

Stay Woke

I can’t sleep.

I’ve been trying for five days.
My eyes won’t stay closed.

Each time I try, my throat becomes a tangle.
Unexpressed rage.
Soul-aching sorrow.
Bone-freezing fear.

I see images behind my eyelids.

Burnt Black Bodies.
Chard to a crisp.
Swinging from the strong
arm of an ancient oak.

Fertilized by the blood and tears.
Family members made to watch.
To keep the peace.

So I keep my eyes open.

I’m tired.
But I can’t sleep.

I try again.
I close my eyes.

I feel myself spiraling downward.
Free falling through space and time.
Landing in the Atlantic.

The salt water burns my eyes.
My throat.

I try to move my arms.
My legs.

But they are bound.

I was “bad” cargo.
Outspoken and non-compliant.
The Captain threw me overboard.
A rock tied to my feet.

The waves became my watery grave.

I open my eyes.

Drenched.
Shaking.
Afraid.

I get up.
Wash my face.
Hug my puppy.

Body tired.
Mind racing.

I go back to bed.

I close my eyes.

This time I see cop cars.
Dozens and dozens of police.
Guns pointing at my face.

Helicopters flying way too low to be safe.
Spotlight from the sky like the eye of God.

“COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS UP?”

My body trembles.
I. Can’t. Breathe.
My body won’t move.

She’s too afraid.
Knowing I’m about to die.

I open my eyes.

I will not sleep tonight.

Sleep is a luxury reserved for the safe.

I have to stay woke.
To stay alive.

Title: Stay Woke
By: Dr. Venus Opal Reese

Loot & Burn

You wanna know why I loot?
Smash windows with bricks & sticks?
Firebomb buildings?

What you see when a building is ablaze is not what I see.

You see a savage.
A stupid nigga tearing up his own neighborhood.

You see an animal.
Greedy for goods I can’t afford.

You see an ignorant ape.
Hurting innocent people who own businesses in my neighborhood.
My city.
My state.

People who “didn’t do anything” to me,
so why hurt them?

You are right.
They didn’t do anything.
You didn’t do anything.

Answer me this…

Why didn’t you speak up for me
when that White man got my promotion?

Why didn’t you stand up for me
when you found out you were paid more than me
for doing the same job?

Why didn’t you come to my defense
when you watched, from the safety of your store,
the Cops beat me with billy clubs
right in front of your business.

You were minding your business, right?

I see you.
I know who you are.
Your name is coward.

For generations you have set up shop
in my neighborhood
while looking down at me.

As long as I kept buying
your alcohol
your food
your merchandise,

You were FINE with the police killing me.

Terrorizing my little sister until she peed on herself.
Intimidating my uncle by pulling a gun on him in broad daylight
right in front of your store.

You never spoke up.

You never made friends with me.
You never gave a fuck about me.

See, what you call vandalism,
I call my voice FINALLY getting heard.

What you call violent acts of property damage
I call standing up for myself.

A building can be rebuilt.
A store can be restocked.
A window can be repaired.

A black life stolen by four Police Officers can not be
rebuilt.
restocked.
repaired.
refinanced.
resuscitated.

Not with a cop’s knee on his neck for 8 minutes and 42 seconds.

There is no insurance coverage for the pain of a childless mother.

What you call property damage I call visibility.

You didn’t see me when I was toeing the line.
You didn’t listen to me when I took a knee.
You didn’t care when unarmed Black Man, after Black Man, after Black Man were murdered by police.

You went right on.
You turned your head.
Business as usual.

Right in my neighborhood.

I was “stupid nigga” money to you.

I see you.
I know your name.
Now you know mine.

Rage.

Title: Loot & Burn
By. Dr. Venus Opal Reese

4K for 4

I keep trying to sleep.

I can’t.

I can’t stop myself from jumping from one social media platform to another.

Reading.
Watching.

Hearing helicopters over my head.
Police sirens in my ears.
My body starts to shake.

I’m back on the block in Baltimore.

Dirty White Cops.
Into young Black Girls.

Who would believe me?

He’s an officer of the law.
I’m just a poor Black girl from the streets.

They never believed me.
They never believed us.
They didn’t believe George when he said,
“I can’t breathe.”

Black voices
even when screaming
make no sound.

Not a sound that the cops
or the courts consider credible.

Our bodies.
Our flesh.
Our bones.
Our blood.

The very breath in our bodies
is a threat to the police officer’s respect.

If we don’t toe the line
they can rape us with
a bullet
a billy club
a knee on his neck.
Two more knees digging into his back blocking his breath.

While the fourth Police officer, like a voyeuristic pedophile, gets off by watching.

The 8 bullets that killed Breonna, in her own bed, are no different from a gang bang.

Each a hot, hard penetration into her unsuspecting body.

Like Massa forcing his seed inside her
then “sharing” his little pickaninny with his gentlemen friends.

He drank in her screams with a sadistic smile and watched as they ripped her fragile—but fighting—body apart.

White folk don’t give a fuck about our bodies.

Our lives have NEVER mattered to them.

That’s why it’s been so easy for cops to kill us. And for Whites to sit back and watch.
In silence.

They want our culture, our confidence, our strength without our pain.

It took 4,000+ arrests of protestors to get
4 police officers charged and arrested for brazenly executing a Black Man in broad daylight, defiantly looking at the camera.

An arrest is not a conviction.

It took protests in all 50 states and burning buildings to the ground to get this done.

An arrest is NOT a conviction.

I don’t know if I will ever go to sleep again.

Title: 4K for 4
By. Dr. Venus Opal Reese