Now, let’s be honest here, did I believe every story? Not quite. Do I believe something happened in their interaction with R. Kelly, yes. Do I believe that they were offered fame and was preyed upon by their desire for that fame? Yes. Do I believe that he had a team of players that helped him do the most unimaginable to young girls? Yes. Were their families offered sums of money with a promise that their daughter would be taken care of? Yes. Each woman that had a personal interaction with R. Kelly, had a story to tell. Who am I, or should I ask, who are we as a black culture to not believe in their experience? Within the black culture, we tend to be very suspicious of stories we hear and I don’t know why or when this started.
There is a list of things I do on my phone before the final alarm goes off to tell me to get my ass up before I’m late to work. On the weekends or days off, that constant view of social media before wiping the cold out my eyes or emptying my bladder is an issue. Why do we connect to the outside world in this way? It’s a drug, at least I think so. This unplug challenge came at a great time, this weekend I will go silent and do things not connected to a hashtag.