WHEN I'M THE BADDEST BITCH
Let my work get famous, and you'll force your students to read it. They'll raise their hands to tell you what they think of my work and you'll tell them that their interpretation is incorrect. If you don't do that, you'll make them feel like shit when they talk to you about my work in some other way. Unable to pick up on social clues or common sense, you'll conclude the class thinking the class went great, and that you are a great professor, and that you taught my article exceptionally well this semester.
I envision a young woman, like myself, struggling to write an exegesis on my work for you. She doesn't know what you want from her. You, and too many like you, have informed her, in subtle and not so subtle ways, that her writing is not up to par. That will stress her the fuck out so at the face of reading my work, she'll get high, hoping to calm the fuck down even to complete the assignment.
I can see a man, with rectangle glasses, glasses that make him seem attractive and intelligent, reading my work at a mahogany desk that has so much character about it that if I ever crossed it's path, I would think about wanting to buy something like that for myself one day, if I ever got rich and famous. The man in question is the embodiment of what you want me to be. He writes and thinks about my articles, that I am famous for by the way, in a way that you love.
I can see someone so filled with anxiety about interacting with my work that they stay in bed all day, neglecting to do everything they set out to do. Their anxiety, ofcourse, is due to the fact that my work is so inaccessible to them. They can't understand my work but need to in order to get that grade, that admiration, that recommendation letter, that acceptance, that knowledge that will, according to you, help them pass your class or write that dissertation. It's very possible that my work isn't necessary to their work, or growth, or life at all. It is possible that your students only think that it is because you made it mandatory for them to read. Or maybe they think that it is in bad faith but somewhere deep in their subconscious realm they realize that it's really just a bunch of bullshit that won't help them with what they want to do.
Let my work get famous, and there will be a lieu of young white men mansplaining to each other, to the token minorities in their class, about what my work really means. Let my work get famous and the journal publisher that publishes my work will get rich. The minorities that I probably wrote it for will most likely stay poor and marginalized in whatever way they are poor and marginalized.
The new millennials, the academics, the notorious in our high society will quote me. The poor, hungry, masses will only hear my name when the elite use my work as an excuse to not help them, to hurt them, to pity them, to look down on them, to misunderstand them, to otherize them.
My texts will circulate amongst the great academics. They will critique it. They will dismiss it. They will create whole disciplines upon it, trying to build onto it, all the while ignoring and erasing the men and women that I cited (and failed to cite) in my paper. Some will say my work is presented like it's epitome of de-colonial, but it's really toxic. Others will say that I failed to see the bigger picture because of the time's I lived in.
Maybe a young black woman like myself will read my work, immerse herself in it, and use it dismantle the oppressive structures I hate. Maybe someone will begin the journey of loving themselves and those who look like them, after reading my shit. Maybe someone will view my work as a muse, an inspiration to embody hope and love and change for others. Maybe someone will read my work and say it's all wrong but will be thankful for having read it because it will give them insights about how to get it "right." Maybe some will love my work and mistakenly mistake this love for loving me.
Right now though, I'm just trying to write like they want me to write. I can't imagine thinking in the way that they want me to think; or mastering any of the skills I am supposed to master in graduate school. But one day I will master it- their goals for me. I'm not a good writer right now. I'm not concise enough or structured, but I will be and once I've achieve this great clarity and structure, once I master making philosophical arguments, whatever that means, some time will go by and maybe then I could possibly become famous for writing.