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Facebook Twitter. Content warning: this story contains elaborates on details of misogynoir, a form of misogyny directed towards Black women where race and gender both play roles in bias. It addresses harassment in the workspace and suicidal thoughts. This text will require the reader to do some Google research because our job is not to provide definitions of theories that have been studied and experienced for over years. I have wanted to tell my story for years.
Through my healing process, it has been challenging to gather the courage to write this. I call these situations violent and misogynoir. For the last 10 years, I have suffered in a resounding silence in my hometown Montreal, the so-called sweet French-speaking Canadian cultural hub where I was born and raised. Growing up here, moving around using public transit from the age of 10 to go to school and dance classes shaped the city kid I am today.
I have developed a very peculiar sense of attachment with Montreal: she is my weird mixed mom. I wanted to be involved in the multi-cultural aspect of the city and the beauty of it. Being Francophone, Canadian and Black is a specific experience. Adding to this testimony, I want to share that both of my parents are activists and have kept working on social and political issues since the 80s in Quebec. They gave me a solid education about my history, my identity and the tools and ability to defend myself. I began to Quebec woman who want black dick that I was a rare case of a Black person who had this sort of role-models at home.
I was able to fully embrace this power and have been working as hard as I can to empower others working in the cultural field around me. Black people have been creating such an incredible wealth of culture coping with atrocities generations have been experiencing, yet, White people have constantly been capitalizing on it.
For example, several music genres such as blues, jazz, hip-hop, techno and others were created by Black people as a testament to their reality and experience. This historical fact was erased under the name of capitalism. Not acknowledging it is both a privilege and ignorance. Recently, I attended an event organized by a national media outlet with whom I had collaborated with a few weeks prior. That type of people does not want to acknowledge systemic racism exists and is present in Quebec because they seem to think BIPOC want to recreate the similar racial dynamics, which is completely absurd.
When in fact, we are only seeking political, economic, personal and social equality. The lack of empathy towards us opens the way for racism.
If they cannot be empathetic, how could they understand that they need to work towards unlearning notions they have been taught for over years? After graduating from CEGEP, I had the chance to land a first job as a receptionist in one of the most prestigious recording studios in Canada. After a good start, my working conditions became humiliating, degrading and exhausting very quickly. At the time, I would rarely see a Black woman working in the local creative business. I took this job because, at the time, I thought it was the only way to work my way up. Instead, every day was humiliating.
I had to force-laugh at racist remarks from sound engineers, studio managers, company shareholders and their clients hailing from the finest and most hip ad agencies of the city. The ideas I suggested were never considered, or they were turned into jokes by the managers and stakeholders. For example, I had suggested that they collaborate on a project with a local producer that soon enough was raised to the status of a legend.
And they ignored his work. In the eyes of the studio manager, I was only good to work as a servant in the sound recording studio. How could a sound engineer say something like that? Casual racism is omnipresent in the workplace and other shared spaces, but some instances stung more others. One time, there was an overripe banana on a table. The studio manager with a coworker requested that I bake them a loaf of banana bread; yet another unappreciated extra-curricular task I took on.
Then, I had no idea how to go about filing a complaint against a sexist and racist statement. Now I can process and assess how violent this encounter was. Six months in, there was nothing new aside from more frustrations and triggers. They hired a new employee, someone I was Facebook friends with, to help me with feeding ad executives, voice actors and clients. It only took two months for her to get promoted to production work.
Now, she works as a director. She never studied cinema or ly worked in the field. The irony is seeing that same person minimizing my experiences of racism on social media while apologizing for her ignorance with heavy white guilt.
Some of these dynamics between Black Women and a White Women in the workplace are often triggered by the patriarchy who wants the White oppressor to act their sole privilege and unleash competition between women. Black Women exist, this shit exists. I have yet to see a therapist to unpack it all but my rage keeps growing. Ultimately, it was a relief to get fired after such a stressful year.
My self-esteem dipped the lowest during that period of my life. I even stopped working on personal projects. That is why there is no follow-up Quebec woman who want black dick the documentary I had released the year. Once it was over, I stood up and I could finally build something for myself. At the recording studio, I often had to choose between not being vocal and assimilating to white supremacy and hope that I would get promoted. Now, I have embraced the fact that I am a descendant of Dessalines, my ancestors fought the colonizers, my grandparents resisted the Duvalier dictatorship and that I was going to honour their legacy by speaking up my truth.
They greeted me with arms wide open. I still did it for a while in order to pay rent and have internalized the capitalist notion of climbing professional and social ladders, but I felt conflicted. This is the way many businesses operate and grow their value, without properly compensating and rewarding their workers. While there was a structural issue with the way work and promotions functioned, there were also plenty of examples of overt racism, expressed openly and without showing remorse. We had been working on a new release, a song citing the N-Word in the title.
Naturally, as the song was written and interpreted by a black person, it was their call to use it. My White coworkers immediately saw a free pass to say the repeat N-Word on several instances loud and giddy, citing the track. On another instance, two recording artists, a singer and a rapper collaborated on a song together and a music video was filmed.
The script portrayed them as an odd couple, enforcing the stereotypes attached to Black men as we see him depicting him as a criminal and being arrested for reasons unknown. The singer addressed the problematic video 4 years after its original release. Better late than never, I suppose. I no longer cared. I still had the fire burning inside of me. But I was done with all the aggressions I was experiencing at work. I would let everyone know that I was no one to mess with. InI came back from my first European tour as a DJ and started working as a music curator for a local venue.
It was a blessing to find myself in an environment that suited me. Several great opportunities came after. Following that opportunity, I worked two part-time jobs, one in a record store and for an international media outlet. I was the first Black woman ever hired at the store, which is considered an establishment in Montreal.
A coworker of mine, a woman, had already been struggling to make her place despite being one of the most brilliant selector and artist in town. The people I was working with were the kindest and made me welcomed, yet the difficult part was the dynamic between clients and myself. I Quebec woman who want black dick constantly asked where the hip-hop section was.
Clients would see that I was available to help them prefer going great lengths to wait for a White guy — and ask him if their re-pressed limited edition of classic-rock record had arrived. I loved to prove them wrong with the music I played. The clients would love it, and I would delight myself with their surprised face when they were told that it was my selection. The media company also did me in.
They did not want me to publish where I was working on Linkedin. In their words, I was not even a real employee. They served me a legitimate explanation for it, although I had a job.Quebec woman who want black dick
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