Over a year ago, my friend Jessie from Black Pearl, a New Orleans neighborhood notably known as the stomping grounds of legendary gospel singer Mahalia Jackson, sent out a tweet that still resonates with me to this day. Ironically, it was tweeted the day on which Kamala Harris was sworn in as the first African American to be Vice-President of the United States.

“Do you know who needs to see this?” the tweet read, “Little boys. They need to see that having a woman in charge is no big deal.”

Almost a year later, another friend of mine, Shawniece, formerly of the Radio Shack on Canal near the world’s worst McDonald’s, sent out a tweet that was similar to what Jessie from Black Pearl said the day of the inauguration, this time regarding New Orleans’ unpopular mayor, LaToya Cantrell.

“Sometimes the biggest hindrance to black women are black men,” she wrote on Twitter.

And although I’m not a big fan of New Orleans’ mayor (she once went after me for putting a dent in the back of her car with a hot dog cart), I saw exactly where Shawniece from the old Radio Shack on Canal was coming from, which was in the same lens of Jessie from Black Pearl’s tweet last January.

I thought about those two tweets recently regarding Stacey Abrams, who if everything goes well, could be the first African American woman to be governor in the history of the United States.

For as much credit Stacey Abrams gets for mobilizing thousands of voters to help deliver not only the state of Georgia to the Democratic column for the presidency, but also two Democratic senators in Rev. Warnock and Jon Ossoff, at the same time some of those people (translation: some black men) who probably voted for Biden, Warnock, and Ossoff are galaxy-fucked in the head at why on earth would Abrams want to be governor.

It’s perfectly fine to some of these black dudes that Abrams helped mobilize voters in the state of Georgia, because she’s in the background.

But to these same black men, Abrams seeking the governor’s chair is a hit on their ego. It burns some of these black dudes’ souls that a black woman wants to achieve a seat at the table.

“I can’t vote for her because her leadership is going to leave me behind,” says some random hotep dude from Adamsville.

If you’re hesitant to vote for Stacey Abrams due in part to your fear of being “left behind”, then stop with the hashtags #girldad #blackgirldad or #protectblackwomen.

Because your hashtag crusading means nothing.