lonely afro-punk

April 4, 2011

Is loneliness a part of the afro-punk experience? Or is being an afro-punk a part of the lonely experience? These are two of the many questions that come to mind on a day to day basis. I’ve become so used to being the oddball in most situations that I tend to shy away from highly social environments.

Lonely Afropunk
Words by Amber Alexander

Sure, it is difficult meeting people who share mutual interests on a general scale. But try being a timid young black woman sandwiched between clashing worlds that equally influence her existence yet none of them are accepting. Someone who is constantly criticized and judged for everything by everyone from her taste in music to personal beliefs. Someone who can’t simply be herself without being scrutinized. Someone who can’t walk into a record store with a skull scarf wrapped around her neck without being stared down by some goth kids, wear her hair freely in an afro at work, be nice without being jerked around, or find a cute black guy who appreciates her dorkiness.

Eventually one gets so tired of it all that giving up seems like the best option. However we are all going to die someday, and who wants to spend their time here wallowing in misery while ‘I’m Broken’ by Pantera blasts in the background? The harsh reality is America isn’t quite ready for afro-punks and as a result many of us are left with feelings of rejection, isolation, and overall frustration which can leave pretty lasting affects. I even once pondered what my life would be like if I simply got a perm, put on ‘regular’ clothes, and hung out with fools who care about nothing more than themselves. What the hell was I thinking? In true corny sincerity I say embrace your differences even if no one else does. Being alone is pretty boring at times but it’s not all bad I guess. You don’t have to share your oreo cookies or worry about getting your band tee shirts back.

Image by Hapeka