The fact that I feel like I have to continuously defend my blackness is astounding and shocking on so many levels. Like, where is this coming from?! But also, who are these people?! In this day and age of #blackgirlmagic and a refreshing resurgence of unapologetic, indelible pride in being brown, I am TIRED of hearing people tell me I’m “different” or explain things to me about the black experience as if I’m some ignorant bystander. Regardless of how you think I interpret race, I am still a black woman existing in a society that is constantly telling me I’ll never be good enough, scoffing at any semblance of confidence, and making snap judgments about my character.
This assertion that I don’t understand what’s happening in my own community seems like another type of prejudice masked in this realm of pseudo-political correctness and saccharine empathy. This strange haughtiness of liberals who believe they “get it” and truly understand all of the issues plaguing the black community more than the black people experiencing it is just plain ridiculous.
It’s infuriating and it’s exhausting, but like, in the end - I’m not here for you. I don’t owe anyone an explanation. I don’t need to defend my blackness, because, regardless of whether or not whoever thinks I’m “black enough,” I will and forever be black. I’m not in a “unique” situation. I’m not “above” criticism or the white gaze. I haven’t ascended to the plane of that fallacy “beyond race.” I’m still pissed as hell about that stupid Buzzfeed video. I mean, I don’t know. Maybe this notion is so upsetting, because I can still remember being called “oreo” in high school and screaming on the inside because it incensed me that people’s perception of blackness was so limited. It hurt me that people felt that who I was didn’t have a place in the narrative of black culture, like I was some pariah. It angers me because I thought the older we got the wiser we got and that meant that I no longer had to explain that blackness comes in all different shades and that inferring otherwise is no better than haplessly stereotyping. But again, I’m not here for them. I’m not here for this oversimplified bs and I’m not here for that self-righteousness. Ain’t nobody got time for that.
There have been so many think pieces flooding the internet these past few days about Bey’s new video and its complex symbolism that for some reason is making people uncomfortable, which has me like:
There’s also been this weird prospect emerging that’s gaining an alarming amount of traction, which is, there’s a “new kind of black” person or idea. In my opinion, whenever I hear notions like this it just seems plain insulting. It’s like hearing, “But you’re not really black” or “I don’t consider you black.” It’s an insinuation that there is some kind of definition of what it means to be black, as if it’s “different” to challenge the status quo. It’s time to turn this tedious, parochial idea that has plagued what it means to be black for centuries on its head. There is no such thing as a “new kind of blackness or black person.” There is finally an acceptance of the fact that blackness means an infinite amount of things, because people can’t be one dimensional even if they tried. Yes, even you Stacey Dash are not just a scary testament of self-hatred.
I think Bey’s new video is so refreshing because it’s devoid of the fake, overly produced, annoyingly flashy music video, but is a celebration, embracing culture- black culture-and critiquing society in a way the mainstream hasn’t seen before. It’s not often, these days, a star of her caliber throws caution to the wind to examine the shortcomings of our current social climate and takes an obvious stand on racial, controversial issues.
There have been scores of historical and contemporary figures who have used their talents or their clout to discuss what it means to be black in a way that is beyond the monochromatic language associated with conversations about race. Whenever I think about race I always think of this person. One of my favorite human beings who has written countless essays on the subject and continues to inspire me beyond the grave. Of course, it is the incomparable James Baldwin.
Baldwin also celebrated black culture in his writing and made me want to be a writer because of the way he used the very language that created such strong rhetoric for oppression and hate, but transformed it into a beautifully complex narrative that is non-apologetic and has an uncanny demand for respect. He writes in a way I have yet to find anywhere else. His command of language, the grace of his candor- he’s a timeless mind that doesn’t get nearly enough attention, but this is not surprising, just disappointing.
Anyway, I digress. The entire point of this post is to point out this celebration of blackness by a black woman and how seeing a video in this context is a game changer. Baldwin speaks almost (ALMOST) ad nauseam about the way black people are perceived and the serious issues that lie in needing approval by the very people who refuse to see you as anything but what they perceive you to be. In a society that is constantly chipping away at the self-esteem of black men and women so painstakingly built on a history where our ancestors were subjected to atrocities and horrors that are unspeakable, unthinkable, this music video cut through all of that bullshit and celebrated black culture.
In other (more boring) news, it’s Black History month and every year I swear the same five figures are plastered all over everything. I’m not saying these five people are not important, it’s just frustrating that there is very little done to showcase more than the “first black (insert insane profession here that confirms that racism is rampant)” or uncover black individuals who have had a tremendous hand in building modern society. It’s one of the most insulting times of year, because it’s the shortest month and, in schools, it’s a lazy testament of how little this country cares to actually face racism. I GUESS this list is a start.
Black history is intrinsically tied with American history, but this pointed distinction each year that because of the discrepancy in curriculum… and America culture(?) there is still a need for this month because this history would otherwise be ignored. That to me is the biggest issue - this annual reassurance that things have not changed. And if you’re one of those lunatics who thinks we should “be grateful you get an entire month, because if there was a white history month everyone would be mad,” I’m not sure who you are or on what planet you’re existing but the ignorance of statements like that are what make my blood boil and put me into an all-encompassing rage. Black history should be taught throughout the year, because it’s not like it happened in a vacuum, divorced from the reality in which it was occurring, on some third dimensional plane. It takes effort to separate out Black History from the history of this country and I like to call that effort, racism.
So, it was nice to feel those same feelings of pride while watching that Beyoncé video and seeing a part of me, various aspects of blackness, be given this insurmountable glory, this infectious glamor, this fistful of motivation, this long needed affirmation using imagery that is so inherently within the context of black culture that’s been glaringly missing from mainstream media.
I have been struggling to find the words to describe the influx of conversations about race in America because for so long it has been a dream of mine to finally get this in-depth, candid exchange of ideas. It’s been a dream to actually have this conversation on a larger, more open platform (social media or just media in general) in order to reach millions of racist, oblivious, ignorant, clueless, foolish, etc. people who have been bottling up their insensitivities beneath feigned indifference or nicely packaging them behind fake smiles. Now, passionate, intelligent voices can reach people who are embarrassingly unapologetic about their bigotry -hateful and inept- and really begin this process of unpacking the hundreds of years of injustice and inequality that is plaguing this country. We can begin to unpack the racism that is still so alive and well in this great nation.
The flood gates seems to have finally burst open and years upon years, decades, centuries of pain and ruthlessness are surfacing on a national scale and the outcry for justice and plainly respect for black people in society is finally being heard.
At first, I’m not going to lie, I was annoyed. I was annoyed because all of the events leading up to these mass protests have been happening for centuries. I was annoyed because black people have been living with this sense of insecurity for so long it’s became normalcy, born from the hopelessness that consumes any glimmer of positive change due to systemic and institutional racism. There was never an acceptance of this horrible reality, but our voices were just not loud enough for the media to take any notice.
I understand that these atrocious events happening back to back with this ferocious public investment is the catalyst for this open conversation about race, but it makes me sad that police brutality and violence has been happening for so long without reprieve. I understand that it’s the new wave of technology and our “global oneness through Twitter” that have brought about many uprisings not just here but across the globe. I understand that now there is literally nowhere to hide or deny this unthinkable violence because cameras come with cell phones and people record everything nowadays.
However, it’s the interview with Azaelia Banks that has essentially made me want to write today. I was so floored by her honesty and moved by her persistence. She was not going to stop talking about society’s cruel mistreatment of black people just because it makes listeners uncomfortable. Numerous times during the interview when whatever-his-name-is told her to put all that raw energy into her music, she said, no, I don’t want to put it in my music. She explained that it’s rare for a black woman to be able to speak the way she does so it can be heard by millions. She told him, it’s her prerogative to say whatever the hell she wants because she’s not afraid of the repercussions. She knows her talent and her fan base. I think she also knows that people, regardless of this strange, twisted way the media portrays people in this country as a blob of mindless apathetic morons, people really do respond to honesty, and as numerous protests have proven, people are neither mindless or apathetic. Well, not all people…
Azealia Banks, if you ever read this I want to thank you for saying all of the things that have been resonating within the black community for centuries. I want to thank you for not accepting the picture being painted of you through twisted media outlets, but embracing your right to speak freely as a citizen of this world and as a black woman. I want to thank you for giving me hope that money doesn’t change who you are or where you come from, but does give you the ability to say whatever the f*ck you want on a platform that would usually be denied topics so deep and so honest.
This post is kind of all over the place, but it is reflective of the bitterness and joy I feel about finally entering a moment in time where I’m not scared about sharing my opinions or apologetic or nervous I’ll hurt people’s feelings or make people uncomfortable. I’m merely exercising my right to free speech, something so wonderfully apparent in that interview.
If you haven’t seen/heard the interview yet, I HIGHLY recommend it:
