An Open Letter To My Young Asian Americans Who Like To Drop The N-Word

Dear Youngins,

First off, I am going to refer to you as youngins, because you are. And no, Grandpa doesn't have one foot in the grave, in fact, you can just call me Big Daddy. Unlike you, Big Daddy doesn't lose it early when someone takes off their jacket on a date, and yes, by "lose it" I mean cum early.

I just didn't want to startle you.

And sure Mrs. Big Daddy might have some other things to say on those nights when apparently Big Daddy can't make anybody happy, but who the hell knew I was marrying someone who had a phobia about open closet doors and I was so good at not closing them?

But this isn't about me - this is about you.

I feel you. I get you. I understand in some ways you feel a brotherhood because Black men are men of color, men who've overcame things when faced with people who looked at them differently because of the color of their skin. There's a culture and history there that you can relate to and as POC, communities of color, we share some of those same bonds and shared inequities.

But my youngins - my Asian American youngins, dick and no dick alike:

You're not Black.

You can't call me your n___a.

You can't say hey "What's up my n____a?".

Because again - you're not Black.

That's just the way it works.

You're not down with the Black community. You're appropriating from the Black community. The same community in ways that you're trying to pay homage to in your own way, and again,

I get it -

But you gotta find your own language.

You have to be true to who you are.

--BDS Signing Off--