If something is "a piece of cake," it is typically considered easy, but centuries ago, for Black people, that phrase meant something that was anything but sweet.
The cake was a highly coveted prize earned by the enslaved folks who put on the best show during a "cakewalk." What could've been so terrible about dancing and dessert?
On plantations, the cakewalk was a ceremonial dance performed for enslavers and their judging guests. Our people would mimic their owners' arrogance and stiff-legged movements as others watched, cheering them on.
James Weldon Johnson once wrote: "The men walked with stately and soldierly step and the women with considerable grace." We were excellent at it, of course. The cakewalk was a way for our folks to mock whites.
Even as bitter as anti-Blackness has always been, cake walks still became a prominent part of minstrel shows. Black performers dressed in blackface, imitating them imitating us.
Whiteness has always had a bitter hatred for our people. From enslavement until now, we've always had to play into their little racist games.
But even when we do, we often soar over their racist hurdles and win. Our liberation struggle isn't a "cakewalk," but it'll be a sweet victory when we get there.