Earlier this month, BestBlackDatingSites.org released an infographic that breaks down the number of ‘eligible’ Black men available for every Black woman. The data is grim if you look at it at face value: If a woman is interested in a heterosexual Black man with no children who has a high school diploma, earns upwards of 30k per year and who likes Black women and is not obese…there’s only three for every 100 Black women. Three. Three.
A couple of things to be mindful of: For starters, “obese” is not a universal disqualifier in the race for love, a point made especially clear by the fact that 24 or 37 percent of all Black men are considered to be significantly overweight (depening on which set of statistics posted by the dating site that you choose to believe). There’s also the whole thing about it being okay to date a man with children, even if that isn’t your preference, the number of women who also earn under 30k per year shouldn’t look down their noses at their financial counterparts, AND the fact that men who date non-Black women do not necessarily do so exclusively (meaning that Malik’s White girlfriend may very well be preceeded and followed by Black ones). And what about the obese, low-income dude who’s dating a White woman? How many times did they count him? The ‘three’ figure just doesn’t seem quite reasonable.
But for the sake of this discussion, let’s just pretend it’s as right as rain. There are only three Black men out there for every 100 Black women. What do we do with this information? Should we turn Morehouse and the NBA upside down like a bunch of rabid Black Friday shoppers searching for a 75% off Gucci bag? Do we immediately go run to men of other races out of fear that we might not be ‘lucky’ or shrewd enough to bag one of the THREE good Black men out there, regardless of our attraction level to non-Black men (the premise of this infograph suggests that every single one of us was a heterosexual dater-of-only-Black-men, for the record)? What is we gon’ do?
Alas, I’m not sure why folks got riled up by something posted to BestBlackDatingSites.org. Aside from having theeeee worst URL in the history of the web, a cursory glance at the site that was created to “help inform black women considering online dating of the dangers and pitfalls that exist” by someone with a tiny bit of internet savvy reveals that the whole shebang is about using keywords that will draw crazy amounts of site traffic without having to do the work of posting substantial content. “Black dating” and “Black singles” is on the homepage about 5000 times. And posting some controversal ‘data’ will drive vistors over there as well. Well played, BlackBlahBlahPropoganda.net. Well played.
However, there is the ever present question raised by the site and the study: where is the good Black men at? Because, apparently, the only narrative for sale these days has to do with their absence. None of us got good men, not a one. I’m thinking, maybe we should start a search party. Like, what you see on television when a pretty White girl goes missing and everyone is out there with flashlights, and Nancy Grace is ready to kick some ass for the cause. We can put “GOOD BLACK MAN” on a missing poster and post it up allover the ‘hood, the ‘burbs, the hospitals, and anywhere else where we can use a bulletin board. We can get John Walsh to bring America’s Most Wanted back and switch up the format a lil bit…
Or, we can just ask. Good mens, WHERE YOU AT? Can you send us a postcard from there and perhaps some directions to you? At least toss a sistah an address so we can put it on the GPS or something. We know it’s more than three of y’all out there. It’s GOT to be like 8 or 10. Can you toss up a smoke signal? Something. We are, you see, desperate. We didn’t know we were desperate, but the whole entire low-rent media wants to tell us that we are. And you know if two people who don’t know each other come up with the same conclusion without ever having spoken, that means its true. I learned that in Science class or something. So, um…can you reveal yourseleves? Don’t forget to explain how and why you qualify yourseleves as ‘good’ (even though BestBlackDatingSites seems to think “good”=”not gay and not in jail holding a White woman’s hand”).
In the meantime, it’s date night around these parts. I gotta pull out the Snuggies and popcorn for the nonexistent man I somehow managed to discover. But let me know, good mens, I do have a lot of girlfriends and readers who may want to know where you are! They didn’t realize you not-existed until recently, but I guess that just makes you more novel now, right?