Loud Mouth Brown Girl

I am genuinely asking, because I think I need to clarify a few things.

For the last eight years, this blog has been about tracking my journey from rape victim to healing survivor. However, that being said, I realize that all my pro-Palestinian work has been on Medium, as that’s where I had the largest audience and also where I thought my voice was heard by the most people.

Make no mistake, my views about white women needing to take responsibility for their actions, the reasons that Black women and white women can’t get along, and why white men are a massive fucking danger to the planet, translate to my work here. I believe wholeheartedly in Palestine, in her people, and her right to thrive.

I believe women all over the world should be free, I believe the Taliban is just next-level white supremacy, Indian supremacy is absolute shit, and anyone who believes that any one race is more special than any other can get fucked.

Those threatening to sue me for my anti-pedophile views can get fucked. I do not support pedophiles, and anyone who does is not welcome in my community. As a survivor of too many to count, I can honestly say I’ve experienced love and child sex trafficking is not love.

I believe there is a time and a place for community, and it’s everywhere and always. I believe in tearing down prisons and building something to house pedophiles, abusers, and rapists, that won’t also end in them being repeat offenders.

I don’t believe that it’s fair that in Canada, there are more Black, Brown, and Indigenous people both in prisons and trash dumps than anywhere else in the fucking world. I also don’t think that it’s fair in the USA; the same can be said.

I am a tired warrior, but I am a warrior. I have no need to be a Princess or a fucking Queen, but what I do need is for those who are to put in and do their share of the fucking work.

I’m sharing this post by “Popstar” Azealia Banks, because I want you to understand just how many women identifying people in the fantasy world of Hollywood agree with her. With their full fucking shadowy disgusting chests.

I was offered millions for my silence, I was offered movie parts, and ads, I was offered a golden fucking tower, all I had to do was keep my mouth shut, and you bet your ass I chose my soul.

Because I’m not like these people. I can’t forgive the fact that when I was fifteen a dozen and more disgusting acts of violence were perpetuated against me by grown men who knew better.

I was a child, who was already broken by abuse, by neglect, and feeling the shame and sorrow of being unloved. Now you want to come tell me you’re still watching.

Watch. Watch as I get laws changed, watch as I build more protections for Black and Biracial kids, watch as I find ways to help kids navigate a system that treats them like unmitigated garbage. Keep watching, because that’s all you people ever do.

You destroy, you blame, you shame, and then you walk away, shrugging your shoulders, saying shit like “I don’t know what I did.” It started when your mom didn’t swallow, and ended with you being either a rapist, a complicit neglector, or a supporter of the men who raped kids like me.

I have no room for people who excuse abusers. I don’t care if those abusers come from Hollywood, Washington, England, Canada, or the mystery island of Whoville; I don’t want abusers in my fucking community. I am really frustrated with the volume of white men who follow me, and then I stop and remember that many who follow me are partners of Black and Biracial women who have been abused.

They aren’t watching to abuse me – not all of them – many of the men who follow are watching because they want to be better men, and I appreciate those comments; they mean the world to me. It means that I am, as a woman once said, “part of your healing journey.”

Oh, I haven’t forgotten you, Zionists, white supremacists, and cultists. I don’t want you creepy fucks in my community either, yeah, I’ve come to a point where I disagree that murdering you all is the best solution, but I don’t want to be in community with y’all.

I don’t believe in Genocide. I don’t believe in starving human beings, regardless of age, race, creed, nationality, size, orientation, colour, of their basic human rights, purely because you want to seem morally superior.

I am irrevocably changed because of the abuse and neglect I experienced as a child – so why would I want to sit back and be comfortable as the people of Sudan, Congo, DRC, and places whose names I haven’t even learned yet suffer, so I can be more comfortable? Like I don’t fucking want this.

I didn’t vote for the Liberals in the last election because I knew damned well that Mark Carney meant more of the same for Canada and the world, but I didn’t know Mark, that you’re an openly proud Zionist, who has no problem defending Israel’s right to defend itself, while simultaniously somehow telling them they are in the wrong…how does that work? How do you condemn the same state that you also praise?

We’ve a long history of replacing good politicians with hypocrites, and calling it evolution, but it’s not evolution, it’s just more of the same.

I used to believe in cops with my full chest, because I worked with them, so I thought I was somehow special. Church and cops working together to change and better the community sounded like a good thought in the beginning, we taught new cops how to treat our guests, we taught our guests how to learn to trust cops. It worked for awhile.

But at the earliest opportunity the white supremacists took over our little church and changed everything, getting rid of the good cops, the good volunteers, and bringing in those they could instead control. It was a heart breaking transition.

And when I needed those same cops the most, they called me crazy. What am I doing here? Proving you can have a life after trauma, proving you can heal, and go on and do great things. This isn’t the beginning, it’s the messy middle, and I wouldn’t give it up for anything.

Sending all my love,

Devon J Hall, The Original Loud Mouth Brown Girl

Join me on KOFI and grab a digital copy of my first book, “Uncomfortable.”