Tough Times

The time has come to get my badass on. It’s late, it’s dark and I’ve just gotten off the subway at 125th Street and Lennox Avenue. It’s time to let the smack talk fly and walk the walk of one badass woman.

It took a move to East Harlem to discover that I had it in me. My sensibilities as a woman have generally directed me to smile demurely and tread lightly through my environs; stepping to a beat more Jerry Garcia than Eminem.

Thoughts of artist Juelz Santana pop into my head. He’s recently announced that he’s going to “rip 125th [Street] up” with his new HipHopSodaShop. I’m unclear on the specifics of exactly what ripping it up entails, but I like how it sounds. “I could rip things up a bit,” I think to myself as I spot a group of young men in the distance congregating outside the shuttered Rite Aid drug store.

The closest I’ve ever come to ripping things up was in high school, when a redneck named Jolene wanted to rip me up because she didn’t like my face. I avoided that confrontation at all costs, namely by hiding in the girls' bathroom until Jolene found some other girl to rip up and ultimately got expelled from school.

“What’s up snowbunny,” one of the boys in front of the pharmacy says coyly, jolting me out of my Indiana daydream and back to the streets of Harlem. “The usual shenanigans,” I say coolly. "You having a good night?”

“We are now,” he says.

And then the smack talk spews forth:

“You can’t let that nonsense get you down,” I say, stopping for a moment to look at him intently.

“That’s right woman,” he says understanding that I’m saying nothing but am ballsy enough (or stupid enough) to smack talk this smack talker.

I tell him to stay out of trouble as I walk past him and his posse. It feels good to throw my shoulders back and walk purposefully; to feel tough in a way that extends beyond any mental or physical strength I’ve known. Perhaps it’s part of a reinvention of self that comes with the territory that I find myself living in. Or maybe the badass in me has always been lurking - looking for a place like 125th street to come out. As I make my way home, I pull the belt of my wool coat tighter around my waist, and tug at my ponytail holder to let my hair down.