Friends, Africans, Countrymen…

There’s no easy way to say this... actually, there is: telling someone they’re “well-spoken” is not the compliment you think it is. It simply doesn't convey what you intend.

Stop it. Stop it. STOP it.

I recently found myself in a conversation about the impacts of globalization and capitalism in Africa, and it brought to mind every instance I've heard someone say, whether to me or someone else, "You're so well-spoken." It may seem like a leap, but the correlation is there.

Let’s ask ourselves this: would you say that to someone of a different race or ethnicity? Would you say that to a palm colored person?

Exactly. Yup. 

The answer is, likely, no.

So why do we continue to say things like this to each other in 2024, the year of our savior, Beyoncé? We give away too much power and impede our progress as a community, whether here on the motherland or in the diaspora, by perpetuating stereotypes imposed on us by “the white man.”

In case it wasn’t clear, I root for everyone Black. If that offends your sensibilities, that’s unfortunate—and frankly, it’s not my problem.

You are gifted. You are intelligent. You are capable. You are all of this and more, and you do it while being Black. While being African. You are, in other words, the Krabby Patty secret formula, you are the sauce. 

As a people, we simply need to abandon this narrative of “white people things,” whether it’s music, fashion, reading—whatever. I mean, chances are your source of entertainment and enjoyment came from a Black person.

You are entitled to take up that space, too. It’s deeply disheartening that we've adopted a mindset that equates defining Blackness with excluding everything else. To be Black is to exist.

Before you think, girl it’s really not that deep, let’s actually deep it. The phrase “well-spoken” carries with it a history of condescension, rooted in the assumption that eloquence and intelligence are unexpected in Black folks. It’s a microaggression that reveals more about the speaker’s biases than about the person being “complimented.” 

When someone says, "You're so well-spoken," they're often surprised by the articulation or the depth of thought, as if those traits don’t belong to Blackness. This reflects a dangerous stereotype that associates intelligence and sophistication with whiteness, a fallacy that we, as a community, have to dismantle.

Moreover, the persistence of this stereotype speaks to the broader issues of systemic racism. The roots of colonialism run too deep, I fear. The assumption that Black people must perform to a certain standard to be deemed worthy of basic respect is not only outdated but also deeply harmful. We are not anomalies for speaking our truths with clarity and conviction. We are not exceptions to a rule that never should have existed in the first place. Every time this phrase is uttered, it reinforces a divide that suggests Blackness and intelligence are mutually exclusive—a divide that has been imposed on us for far too long.

We need to reflect on how these (internalized) microaggressions seep into our daily interactions and shape our internal narratives. When we internalize these comments, we unconsciously limit ourselves, believing that we must exceed expectations just to be seen as equals. This mindset is exhausting, truly, and it detracts from the celebration of our authentic selves. 
Our voices, our dialects, our expressions are diverse and powerful—without needing validation from a standard that was never meant to include us. To reclaim our narrative, we have to start by recognizing that our voices, in all their forms, are valid and valuable. We must reject the notion that our worth is tied to how well we fit into the boxes others have constructed for us. Instead, let’s embrace the richness of our cultural and linguistic diversity, knowing that our excellence doesn’t need to be measured by anyone else’s standards. So, I’ll say it again. 

To be Black is to exist—unapologetically, and without the need for approval.