It seems....

...I spent my whole life on the outside peeping in, trying to get in, trying to squeeze in.  Too black to be accepted by "black" people is what I was told by far too many.  Far too radical and "black" to be accepted by "white" people.  Poor me left on the outside, trying to find a way to get "in".

  I'm glad I had my grandfather to tell me different.  He told me that I was beautiful and that he often wished to be my color.  He told me that his color made him ashamed.  It made him ashamed because it represented a rape.  He said that it meant that his grandmother had been brutally violated.

He also instilled pride in me.  "You jest like my grandmother.  She was a shawt luddle black woman jest lak you.  She was fierce!  She didn't take no guff.  She was smart!  She was a free issue.  My grandmother bought hur own freedom...'magine dat!  A luddle nigga woman buying hur own freedom!"

That made me very proud because having to read about the "happy docile negro slave" in my social studies books every year pissed me off to no end.

See there Mathy, GOD put Jerome Walters right there in your midst.  Right there where you were lying and exploiting, right there where you were sneaking around, up to your constant mischief.  GOD put Jerome Walters in my path to protect me, to encourage me, to refute your ignorant babbling.

I still say you are not nearly as stupid as you are pretending to be.  You are just waiting on "death", your only escape route.