Selling Hot Pussy

This was the title of an essay by bell hooks that my theology professor assigned in seminary. A number of my too-holy-for-their-own-damn-good classmates ran to the Dean's office to object: "Do you know what's being taught in your school? I knew she wasn't saved!" The Dean asked, "Did you read it?" They replied "Of course not! I'm not going to pollute my spirit with this filth. Hallelujah!" The Dean said, come back when you read it.
The article was about the commodification of black women's bodies. I am reminded virtually every time I travel that the selling of my body and its cavities is not limited to my own country. American media is most profitable globally so Hollywierd exports its constructions of my people and my body and me around the world. That is why virtually ever place I have traveled (Turkey is the only exception so far) I have been called a nigger like it's a compliment: "Hey brown nigger baby" - in Kenya and "What up my nigga" - in Jerusalem. While the Jamaicans called me "Empress" their offers were sewage-worthy.
I am not for sale. You can not "be my boyfriend or husband for the night." I do not want your number. I will not give you mine. You cannot visit me at my hotel. I don't care what Beyonce, Nikki Minaj or Rhianna, say, sing or wear. I am not for sale. Hollywood and the recording industry have sold you a bill of goods. I am not included.