Tinder, like most other apps, such as Facebook, Twitter, Grindr and Regions Mobile, is used primarily for sexting. We’re all adults and more or less interested in one another on a physical level, and social media allows us new and nuanced strategies for romantic communication.
And Tinder, though admittedly a hot glitchy mess once people actually decide to message you, works pretty brilliantly with regards to consideration of your feelings.
If you haven’t ever used it, Tinder is an app that allows you to swipe left or right on a local person’s profile if you’re interested in them. If you aren’t feeling them, they go off into some invisible reject pile in cyber space, but if you like them and they’ve liked you, too, Tinder allows you to message each other. If you yourself don’t match with someone, there’s no real way to prove that they rejected you because they thought your pictures were horrendous. It’s totally shallow and extremely effective, and I encourage you to try it out.
But, please, if we match — especially if you’re not black — please don’t ever kick-flip into my inbox to tell me that you’ve never been with a black girl before.
For centuries, black women have been stereotyped and hyper-sexualized as a way for those who viewed us as animals, because of our skin color, to be able to enjoy us sexually. More often that not, our lips, chests, thighs and behinds come to stand in place of both our humanity and our womanhood, especially as it concerns the media and the male gaze, and we’re reduced to neck rolling, lip-smacking, sexually predatory caricatures who aren’t good for much more than your pleasure.
When you approach us telling us you haven’t been with a black girl before, you’re telling us that what you want is our blackness alone — that you’ve bought into this idea that we are sexual objects who exist so that you can colonize us with your penis, and we somehow owe you the opportunity to sample us, as if we’re a thimble of chocolate froyo at Yaya’s. Go away.
It irks me deep down in my spirit when I get that 3 a.m. message: “Damn girl. Do you like white guys? I’ve never been with a black girl before.”
Linda, honey, listen –– if I had a problem with your being white, we wouldn’t have matched in the first place.
I understand that if you’re a stranger to the swirl, the prospect of interacting romantically with someone whose heritage and skin color differs from yours can be somewhat intimidating, but, I assure you, all women appreciate respect and being spoken to like human beings. If you’re interested in a black woman, in person or on Tinder, whether for a one night stand or for a long-term relationship, respect that she’s black, but don’t make it all about her blackness. Don’t come at us calling us all types of shawty, misusing all kinds of slang, perpetuating all kinds of damaging ideas. We are people, not playthings, and we are not here to satisfy your fetish.
All that being said, don’t be shy, bae. No one’s asking you to stop appreciating what you find attractive. If you think our skin is pretty and our bodies are nice, by all means, throw out a compliment. Understand that the line between appreciating a woman and objectifying her is thicker than you might think, and that it’s totally easy to accomplish the former instead of the latter if you use the three seconds of time it takes to be considerate first.
Sierra Mannie is a junior classics major from Ridgeland.
