Sunday, February 24, 2008

On Race, Gender and Baracking the Vote...

So right now we're in the midst of a history altering campaign season. The course of our world, our country, our stories are about to forever be changed. And really, I feel really ... conflicted. On the one hand, I am thrilled that in this election alone, a Black man, a white woman and a Latino man have all been campaigning vehemently for the Democratic nomination. Wow... never in my lifetime did I think I would see this. Then on the other hand, the Black woman hand, I feel like I'm being split in two (figuratively, not literally). You see, I am simultaneously Female and Black. Both of those along with many other identities, shape who I am. I can be no more Black than I can be a woman than I can be straight than I can be a mother than I can feminist than I can a writer and so on and so on. So when I look at this election, this decision, I can't help but feel a conflict of identity, so to speak.

I know, I know, I shouldn't be looking at this election on such a basic level. I should be analyzing the facts. What do they stand for? What are they promising to do? What are there positions on the issues that effect my everyday life? And I have looked into those things. I've read up on their stances, I've taken countless quizzes that are supposed to show me with whom I most closely align, and I've watched the debates and whatnot. But really, the implications of this election are far greater than that. For the first time ever, someone who looks somewhat like me is going to be in the White House and not as a wife or a worker either (sorry Republicans, I'm starting to think you don't stand a chance of winning this election ... you have ol' G. W. to thank for that). I can't possibly just focus on the issues, not when the contesters arouse such a response to my identity.

So let's take a look at those hands again. On the one hand, the Black one, I'm like all for a Black president. For the longest time, that term seemed like such an oxymoron, Black president. How could a country shaped on the backs of Black slaves and molded with the hands of racism ever have a Black person as it's leader? How was that possible when I still have issues identifying as American? I mean, obviously I live here, but when I think of an American, I think of a good ol' boy. I think of a white man who's neck may or may not be red, who flies flags with white stars and red and white stripes, who may or may not be wearing overalls with no shirt, who enjoys football and baseball and drinks Budweiser and listens to country music and cries when the Star Spangled Banner is sung, who may or may not like me as Black person, but who may be curious about me as a Black woman. I guess the idea of a Black person running this country where only decades ago our bodies were regularly seen swaying beneath poplar trees is like the ultimate victory.

And then there's the other hand, the female one, the one that is often supposed to be ignored, fading to the back behind the Black one. This hand, this hand is all about having a woman running this damn country because a woman can d othings a helluva lot better than a man can. This hand sees (again, figuratively seeing as I have no eyes on my hands) how women have been running things since the begininning of time. And how this country was founded on oppression and the original slavery - marriage - which is an institution that still exists, though not in the horrors of its earlier form, but to the benefit of men nonetheless. This hand is all about seeing a woman take control of this country, this patriarchy. This hand thinks that my needs as a woman, as a mother, as a lesbian, as a feminist, will be best served by a woman.

Damn these hands! You see, when I look at these hands of mine, they're both brown and they both are female. These hands of mine know no separation of the two. That's why this decision of mine (and the rest of the democratic country, but this here blog is about mine) is so hard. Because really, neither of those candidates represents me. And if they did, they wouldn't be frontrunners. My bestfriend and I joked about me running for president one day. She laughed and said, "that's too much other! You would never get elected!" And she was right. What would a candidate who completely represented me look like? Hmm, a young poor nappy headed radical Black feminist lesbian single mother. Do you see her running this country? Ever? Nah.

So really, this whole election is forcing me to consider my identity. Who the fuck am I? Am I more of a woman or am I more of a Black? Note: I really hate using Black as a noun, but for literary purposes, it works best this way. I mean, which defines me most: my Blackness or my Woman-ness? Such is the plight of a Black woman. That whole double jeopardy thing. The truth is, neither one is more important. I am both. bell hooks talks about identity in this book of hers I have yet to finish, called Talking Back: Thinking Feminist, Thinking Black. In this book, she describes how languages influences the ways in which we identify. How the concept of adjectives and nouns places importance on one aspect of our identity over another. Like, am I a Black woman or a female Black? What does it mean to give one aspect of my identity subject placement over another?

But I digress...

So until recently, I have been pretty much undecided, but leaning towards Hilary Clinton. Again, it's because I think a woman can do a better job than a man. It's also because I want to do what is not expected of me as a Black person. And it's because of the rampant sexism surrounding the media coverage and people's views of her. But then came Super Tuesday. As I was watching the results come rolling in, I kept feeling a twinge of excitement every time Obama won a state. And when I saw him address his audience in Chicago, I felt a shot of excitement. I love the grassroots feel and youthfil energy surrounding his campaign. I love how he is bringing young folks out to the polls. I love it! I also think his wife is beautiful... but that's neither here nor there.

But with all this "love" comes a feeling of betrayal. I'm ready to Barack the Vote, but what does that say about me as a woman? Media coverage of Hilary Clinton has been crazy, crazy sexist. She's not Clinton, she's Hilary. Some of the things I dislike about her - her seriousness, her lack of emotion, her boringness, her cut-throatness - can be attibuted to the fact that she is a woman and she has to be this way. She can't afford to be labelled as soft or feminine or emotional or fair or just or all of those things that can be associated with the feminine, that stuff that this society doesn't value. By judging her because of those things, am I falling victim to sexist representation?

Most recently, I took yet another quiz to help me come to a conclusion. The results? Clinton 21 and Obama 20. Not much help. They're stances are pretty similar on the things that mean the most to me. So... what's a Black girl to do? If I knew, I wouldn't be writing this blog...

On Tyler Perry, Barack Obama and Hilary Clinton

I wanted to like it. I really did. I tried so hard to clear my mind of preconceptions (all negative) and to go into it with a blank slate. That was hard... real hard. I mean, my mom bought the movie. I already feel like enough of an outcast (well not outcast per se, just different, really different) in my family as it is, being the feminist one, the crazy one, the non-Christian one, the gay one (not that Mama knows or so I think... hmmm) so I said, let me just pretend to be interested in this movie that Mama and my sister like, and go along with it even though I'm sure it's not my style. Sometimes you just want to fit in, know what I'm saying? At the end though, it was real hard - real hard - to muster that, "Oh that was cute." I'm sure it sounded insincere, but I tried nonetheless.

So, the movie I'm referring to is none other than, Why Did I Get Married? Tyler Perry's latest attempt to publicize what he thinks is in a woman's mind. Not this woman. Why Did I Get Married is nothing more than an ego boost for insecure men. There, I said it. Perhaps it's the way he relied on stereotypes to create his characters. Or perhaps it's the way he used extremes to get his point across. Perhaps, it's because the lives of all of the female characters essentially revolved around their men. Or finally, perhaps it's because it's just plain sexist. Whatever it was, I didn't like it and believe me I was trying. Now, where do I begin?

How about with the women? Is it me, or did it seem like all of the women in the film were fundamentally defective in some way? Right, I know everyone has problems, no one is perfect, blah, blah, blah. What I mean though, is that for the most part, these women were so messed up that they were destroying the lives of their husbands and their families. Let's begin with Angela - oh Angela - played by actress Tasha Smith. Angela is the sharp tongued, alcoholic who is constantly berating her man into submission. Sound familiar? Perhaps because Angela is none other than Sapphire - the eye rolling, finger snapping, ball busting Black woman that apparently all us Black girls have within us - who is responsible for not only emasculating the Black man, but for the Black matriarchy described so brilliantly in Daniel Patrick Moynihan's report on the Black family. Despite the fact that her husband is a chronically unemployed, philanderer (there's a fun word) who refuses to address his "baby mama" who is another woman destroying their marriage, it is her words and her attitude that is at the root of their problems, because everybody knows that you don't disrepect a Black man's masculinity right? Their problems aren't solved until he sets her straight, by going off on both her and Keisha, his baby mama, causing Angela to realize her love for him and to vow never to be mean to him again.

Now, I'm no proponent of alcoholism or verbal abuse, but why is it that the root of their problems are her "smart mouth" and not his problems with employment and his relationship with his children's mother? When it is revealed that they have both been unfaithful, why is it more of a foul that she did it than he? Oh duh! I know! It's because she's a woman! Silly, me!

Next is Diane, played by Sharon Leal, who gets the distinct honor of being Mr. Perry's woman in this film. Diane has recently made partner in her law firm and is a bit of a workaholic. She is a woman of the 21st century. She is a wife, a mother, and a successful lawyer. She is the Claire Hustable of the millenium! Diane, to use a phrase from the 90s, has it going on! But, not quite, because her hubby isn't happy. See, unlike Claire, Diane is suffering in the wifely duties department and five kids? Diane can barely manage the one she has and doesn't want anymore children, much to the chagrin of her husband, Terry (Terry? Tyler Perry? Anyone else catch that? Cute Tyler, cute). This woman does not know her place and is ruining her husband's and daughter's lives because of it. The couple go back and forth over the issue of having more children since she is content with one and Terry wants 4. Hmmm, didn't they talk about this before they got married? Guess not. Then it is revealed that Diane took matters into her hands a long time ago when she decided to have her tubes tied after giving birth to their child. Oh shit! Houston, we have a problem!

You see, Diane's problem is that she forgot she was a woman. Diane forgot that once she said those vows, her body became the property of Dr. Terry (yes, how Cosby Show of him, he is a doctor) and her main priority was to pop out babies and make hubby happy. By taking control of her reproductive system and her career, Diane is essentially emasculating Terry by failing to give him the wife he so desires. Now, I do believe that relationships are about compromise; however, children should NOT be one of them. What kind of parent will you be if you keep having children simply to please your partner? Children deserve better than that. I also believe that decisions like the one Diane made regarding her own body, should be discussed with your partner before being made, but ultimately are up to the one who's body is being affected. Finally, what is Perry trying to say about women with careers? Why is it that a man who is ambitious is a great provider, but a woman who is ambitious is a bad mother and wife? Is there no compromise?

Janet Jackson's character, Patricia, is perfect. Perfect Patty. Perhaps even the best representation of women in the film. She is a relationship expert of some kind, and is the one everyone comes to when there's marital strife. Patty knows all. However, Perfect Patty has a secret. One that is threatening her own happiness and her husband's. Patty's toddler son was killed in a car accident after she failed to properly strap him into his carseat. Bad Patty. Now she blames herself, and apparently, at some point, so did her husband, Gavin.

It's really a sad thing. But again, she is a faulty woman. She was so busy trying to get to work, that she forgot to make sure her son was properly restrained. A simple mistake really, but one that resulted in his death. It could have easily been a mistake that Gavin made without really changing the story too much. The pain and grief would still be there. The struggle in their relationship would still be there. The juxtaposition of Perfect Patty's public persona and private life would still be there. But Perry chose to make it Patricia's fault that their son died and thus establish her husband as faultless and really perfect. Why is that? Patricia's and Gavin's relationship is the archetype in the film. There's is a relationship for all the other's to aspire to. By establishing fault in Patricia, but really none in her husband, it casts the woman in a lower position to her husband. It establishes her in her place as a woman, who can never be as good as a man. Who will always need a man to save her.

Finally, Jill Scott's character, Sheila, is esablished as perhaps the best woman in the picture. She is loving, generous, submissive, passive and a great wife to her husband, Mike. She is also morbidly obese, a fact that verbally and emotionally abusive Mike won't let her forget. Perry establishes Sheila as a victim. She is a good woman struggling with her weight who is victimized by a bad man. Their relationship is the foil to Patricia's and Gavin's. She is a good woman the 80 to her husband's mistress' 20. She is the example of what happens when a man is not on his job; not loving his wife and providing for her. Sheila's world crumbles when she realizes that her husband is having an affair with her beautiful and single friend, Trina. Poor Sheila didn't know better than to let a beautiful, single woman around her husband. However, after Mike leaves her in pieces, Sheriff Troy is there to pick them all up and fit them back together. Within months of her divorce, Sheila is sporting a new husband, a svelte new frame, and a self-confidence that she didn't have with Mike. See what a good man can do?

The biggest problem with this storyline though is exactly that, what a good man can do. Sheila jumped from an abusive relationship right into another one. Though this relationship is a good one, there was no time for her to develop herself as a woman separate from a man. It was Troy who gave her job and a place to stay after her husband took all of her money. It was Troy who encouraged her to work out and get in shape. And it was Troy who gave her the ability to love herself. At one point she says that she doesn't want to jump into a relationship so soon after divorcing Mike - perhaps the smartest line in the movie. However, good sense goes out the window when Troy tells her he loves her and kisses her passionately, something that she's been missing for quite some time. As a result, Sheila's self-discovery and growth as a woman, as a human being, is thwarted and she gives all control to her husband, I suppose as it should be.

Perry makes a bold statement about women in his film, well several bold statements. First, he establishes a woman's place as behind her man. In all examples, life does not get better until the women give up control and let the men take over. With Angela it's when she stops using her words to emasculate her man. With Diane, it's when she stops emasculating her man by pursuing her career. With Patty it's when she stops pretending to be perfect, recognizes her mistake and lets her husband take care of her. With Sheila, it's when she puts an end to her own self-empowerment and marries a good man. All of these examples show that without a man to lead her a woman is lost. Next, Perry establishes marriage as the key to women's happiness and fulfillment. All of the women are miserable when faced with the possibility of losing their men. They learn that if the don't submit to him, their happiness is fleeting. Perry also makes a startling statement about Black women who choose to have careers. All of the women - except Sheila who I will get to in just a moment - are extremely successful women. Angela - a chemist - owns her own hair care line and salon. Diane is partner at her law firm. And Patricia is an award winning author, professor and relationship therapist. However, all of these powerful women are reminded in some way shape or form that their men have the upper hand. They are reminded that they are still defective women and that no matter how successful they may be, their men are still above them. Though all of the men in the film have some issues, it is essentially the defectiveness of the women that is to blame for the problems in their marriages. Sheila, who chooses not to have a career, is the one female character who is established as a good woman. The only lesson she needs to learn is a small one really, and that's how to love herself - which apparently she doesn't need to know as long as she has a man who's willing to do it for her. Tyler's message to women is really a sad one; a sad mysogynist one.

So, if you haven't figured it out already, I hated the film. However, it forced me to ask myself a lot of tough questions. In an earlier blog I discused racism and sexism and which was most visible. Now I am questioning the conclusion I reached. I'm not in the business of comparing struggles or oppressions, especially considering that both of these effect me. However, racism seems to have become somewhat un-PC. Of course it happens. It's rampant and I'd be lying if I said it didn't shape my life, my identity or myself on a daily basis. But sexism seems to still be acceptable. It hasn't become un-PC yet. It's still ok for men to make sexist remarks and get away with it. It's accepted that Tyler Perry's view of women and marriage are accurate and commendable. It's accepted that Barack Obama is Obama and Hilary Clinton is just Hilary. It's obvious that this country would rather have a man than a woman running it. So what does that mean? For me as a woman what does it mean that I'm supposed to have a man to lead me, as husband and as president? As a lesbian, what does that mean? As a Black woman what does it mean that a Black man is about to be president of the United States, but a white woman is still not good enough? Where does little ol’ Black, Female me fit into that? What do these things mean?

On the Jena Six and the Media

I wish I could say I've known about this all along. But I can't. I wish I could say that I immediately rushed to find out about The Six when I first heard reference to them. But I can't. I wish I could say that my anger was unneccessary, that it really was an overreaction with no cause. But I can't. I can't say these things for many reasons.

First of all, there was no real media coverage of the situation in Jena, Louisiana for months after the situation began. There was, however, plenty of media coverage around Michael Vick and his dog fighting fiasco. Why? I could sugarcoat it, make it sound all pretty and nice and not offensive and all that, but I'm am angry and so I'm not. So, the real reason why there was no real coverage of this situation is because the media in this god damn country is so fucking racist and only certain images of Black folks are acceptable to be shown. No one wants to talk about Black folks being victimized anymore, because that is like so 150 years ago and went out with slavery, right? Wrong. As long as Black folks are doing stupid shit it's ok to plaster their faces all over the evening news and every other media outlet there is. But let a Black person be victimized by a racist city and racist judicial system and racism period, no one wants to show that on the news.

Why? As long as we're discussing why and not sugarcoating shit, let me give another reason why. There has been limited coverage of the Jena 6 because with media coverage comes public response and with public response comes public rage. As long as Black folks (and those sympathetic to our struggle) remain ignorant, there can be no change. Call me crazy, a conspiracy theorist, or whatever you want, but this I know to be true: the media in this country dessiminates information that it deems safe and stories about six Black boys falling victim to Jim Crow like prosecution is not safe. This is what lynching looks like in 2007. Bodies are no longer swaying from poplar trees, but instead rotting inside penitentiaries due to a racist judicial system. How ironic. This modern day lynching began with a throwback to the days of yore - nooses hanging from a tree.

But let me get back on track here. I wish I could say that I rushed to find out about the Jena Six when I first heard mention of their plight. But sadly, oh so sadly, I can't. I knew. I knew the first time I ever heard the moniker, Jena Six, that some racist bullshit was going down somewhere in the goddamn country and truthfully (as ashamed as I am to admit it) I decided ignorance is bliss. So for weeks, I avoided the Facebook blogs, the Myspace avatars, all the threads on a message board I belong to. I didn't think I could take something else, because recently I've developed a kinda rage and I didn't want to add to it. And I'm disgusted with myself, because it's that attitude, that ignorance that contributes to this shit. It's that attitude that makes the lack of media coverage so dangerous. Why? Because if it is not spelled out for us, if it is not all up in our faces, if it is not Michael Vick-ed then it might as well not be happening.

The revolution will not be televised. Let me say it again, the revolution will not be televised. We cannot expect our plight and our stories to be told in the mainstream media of this country. We cannot expect our freedom to be given to us without a fight. And we cannot afford to sick back and wait for change to happen. We have to make it happen. I can go on and on about the media and the havoc it is reeking on our lives as Black people and as Americans. I can go on and on about how I believe it is a ploy of the government and the powers that be, that Britney Spears, Angelina Jolie and shuckin' and jivin' Negroes are the only things showing up on tv screens all over the country. But I'm not going to go there today. Today, I'm talking up the Jena Six. Today I'm deciding that I'm not gonna let this story die, not gonna let talk of those Six cease from my lips and my words until there is justice. And I'm encouraging you to do the same.

So consider this a call to action. It's time for us - Black folks and other folks of color, white folks, gay folks, straight folks, woman folks, man folks, little folks, big folks, ugly folks, pretty folks, me and you - to stand up and do something. It's time for us to stop sitting around like zombies, stop letting the media tell us what to care about and brainwash us into self-hatred and fear, and start deciding for ourselves that the turn this society has taken is a dangerous and scary one. Not because of terrorists overseas, but because of terrorists lurking in this country, waiting to steal, kill and destroy those of us blessed with color, those of us who love members of the same sex and/or gender, those of us who are poor, those of us with uteri, vulvas, and vaginas, and those of use who aren't rich, white men. It's time for us to take action.

"Up, you mighty race, accomplish what you will!" Marcus Garvey

On Race, Racism and What It All Means...

Racism has been on my mind so much lately. It's getting to the point where I'm fighting this intense rage everyday because of racism, and its cronies discrimination and prejudice. Perhaps I'm just tired of oppression in general, but that's another blog and I'm trying to keep this short.

Let me start off by explaining the concept of race. The concept of race is pretty racist truthfully. Race is a social contruction created for the purpose of biologically explaining the infinite superiority of whites over all other people. Human beings were divided into three categories: Negroid (Black), Mongoloid (Asian) and the illustrious Caucasoid (white) - note: please notice the sarcasm. Anyone who is not primarily one of these is a mixture: ie. Latinos (Negroid, Mongoloid, and Caucasoid) and Native Americans (Mongoloid) and so on. All of these classifications are supposed to determine ones intelligence but really only determines ones inherent worth as a human being, with the judge being Caucasoids. Basically, though, what it all boils down to is how you look, because there is no biological difference between the races. There are (duh) physical characteristics specific to each group, but any other differences are the result of outside forces such as history, socialization, and racism.

The concept of racism is trickier yet. Contrary to popular belief, racism is a system of advantage based on race. Racism is not a belief, though a belief can be racist (prejudice). Racism is not an action though an action can be racist (discrimination). Racism is not speech, though speech certainly can be racist (hate speech). All of these are tools of racism and all most definitely perpetuate it. However, none of these, in and of itself is racism.

The difference is that racism is a form of oppression and oppression is a system. Oppression in it's many forms is what makes the wheels turn in this here society. See the difference between discrimination and prejudice and racism is that the former two affect people interpersonally. It's on a micro level. It really hurts when someone dislikes you or treats you badly because of your skin color. I experienced this the other day and it reduced me to tears. However, racism is on a macro level. When Black children are sent to inadequate schools with inadequate resources; when Black people are often unable to secure loans for homes, businesses, etc.; when Black people are disproportionately prosecuted for drug related crimes (read crack vs. cocaine) it's racism. Racism affects an entire group of people, while discrimination and prejudice affect individuals. That's the difference.

So, based on this definition, people of color cannot be racist. Let me say it again, people of color CANNOT BE RACIST!!! They can't be racist towards whites or other people of color. They can be prejudiced as the dickens and discriminate like it ain't nobody's business, but they can't be racist.

Why? Because racism is a system of advantage and until there is a system in place that gives any person of color an advantage over anyone based on their race, white people are the only ones capable of racism. I know someone's saying, "Well what about affirmative action? That's a system that gives Blacks an advantage." IIINNNTTT (imagine a buzzer) wrong! Affirmative action is a tool by the power structure (the system if you will) in this country that is supposed to give Blacks (and other people of color, women, people with disablitities, etc.) a leg up on ... racism (and sexism, ablism, etc) not white people as some might think. Affirmative action is NOT a system, but rather a tool of the system.

As of late, this system of advantage based on race has been weighing quite heavily on my mind. There's the Jena Six, there's Hurricane Katrina and the aftermath, there's the media hype surrounding the Michael Vick nonsense (and the lack of hype surrounding the Jena Six), there's this ridiculous show on Cincinnati's WSTR tv station called American Crossroads with a ridiculously racist and xenophobic slant, there's the racist ass fucker who has my car, there's the racist ass police officer who racially profiled me, and... the list goes on and on. I'm literally bubbling over in anger right now and it's all because of racism.

So really, this little blog here was just a teaser, if you will, meant to set the tone for the other blogs that will follow it (hopefully shortly). All of those issues and more, will be discussed at length at a later date, but this here is just a little water, just a taste, for the mind.

NOTE: Though I focused on racism against Black, all people of color are able to be on the receiving end of racism. Also, this in no way means that all white people are racist (I did at one point believe this but only meaning that all white people benefit from and thus perpetuate racism in that there are certain benefits to having white skin in this society, not meaning that all white people discriminate or are prejudiced against people of color). Finally, also worth mentioning is that just because people of color are not able to be racist, people of color are definitely able to perpetuate other systems of oppression, such as sexism, heterosexism, ablism, and all the many other -isms out there.

On Race and Gender and Visibility

What do you notice first, race or gender?

It's a good question. I used to think the answer was gender, because people how could you miss it? She either is or isn't a woman - there's no other choice, right (I've since changed my opinions on this matter)? Even though I know all about the workings and importance of rac e and gender as well, in this country and make it my priority to live a life that shows pride and knowledge in and of my culture, I mistakenly reached the wrong conclusion on this one.
Several incidents of late, two in particular, have shown me the error of my ways.

One example happened today. As my car is currently on the outs, I've taken to using public transportation - the Metro - for my transportation needs. On this morning of all mornings with a temperature hovering at 0 F and a sub-zero windchill, I was obviously bundled up to the max. So I get on the bus and take the first seat open, next to this youngish white woman, dressed rather well, looking like she was about to go to work at some big, downtown company, like she'd just rolled out of bed in her expensive, young-urban-professional-ish penthouse in Hyde Park and hopped on the 'Tro as a way to conserve gas and appear trendy and urban to her yuppy co-workers (clearly I'm relying on a bunch on stereotypes and assumptions here, mostly for creative purposes). So I note The Look on her face. You know, the one that says, 'please don't sit next to me person whose not quite on my level'. It's seen often on the faces of many a bus traveler when in contact with someone different - often racially - than they are. So, noting the Look, I sit down anyway. As I losen my coat and assortment of scarves, I brush against her arm. I note the way she repels from my lightest of light touch. She scoots as far away as possible from me, as if she's afraid that some of my blackness, er, coldness (I told you it was sub-zero out there) might rub off on her. I also note the way she refuses to look at me, not once do her head or eyes move to the right to acknowledge my presence. Perhaps she feels so badly that I waited outside for 15 minutes for that damn bus in that god awful cold, that she can't even bear to look at me at risk of bursting into tears of compassion. Perhaps it's my bundled appearance not unlike her own, that frightens her. After all, you can't trust a darky with it's face covered up, right? Right.
So after noting her rather peculiar (not really) behavior, I start to wonder. What does she think when she sees me? I know I've made several assumptions about her, but what assumptions has she made about me? Are all of those assumptions based off of my race?

I wonder.

So later this morning I'm in training at my new job. There's me, a graying, Black man, and a young, white girl around my age. We have to show the HR secretary our social security cards and driver's license so that she can fill out some paperwork. Somehow, the poor secretary - bless her heart - got me and this gray haired Black man confused. Somehow my information wound up on his form and his on mine. Somehow this mistake happened while our picture ids were right in front of her face (that's where the information came from). Somehow the young, white, girl was left out of this unfortunate, but definitely unintentional and somewhat embarrssing (oops, nervous giggle, how'd that happen?) faux pas.

I wonder. How did that happen? Did she just see brown face and start writing? Did she not notice female face versus male face? Did she not notice 23 year old face versus forty something face? Hell, did she not notice shock of shoulder, length black hair versus almost no hair at all? Or perhaps this woman is so naturally pc, so all inclusive, so non-white-male-blind that she doesn't even notice little things like race, gender/sex or age. Perhaps this woman is the PC Posterchild and maybe her's is the face that should be shown around the world to those in need of a litle diversity training. I dunno.

So these incidents, along with a bunch I've accumulated over the years, have served to bolster my stance (new as it may be) that race trumps gender in this country in terms of visibility and to support one that I've known was true since I was able to think rationally, perhaps before then seeing as I was raised by an extremely pro-Black Nationalist: Race matters (to borrow Dr. Cornel West's book title).

So, what does all this mean? Well, it means that we have a long way to go in the fight for equality. It means that no matter how much I or you or whoever, know that race is a social contruction, it doesn't matter as long as people so inclined to discriminate can see the difference and act accordingly.

Honestly, it's a bit disheartening.

Not because I need or want white people's approval or acceptance, but because I need and want to be treated as a equal citezen in this country of my birth. Truthfully, it's pretty damn ludicrous to ask people not to notice difference. And to be honest, it's even harder to ask them not to make judgements bosed off of those notations. All I'm asking is that we don't act on them. That we take the chance to get to know the person, rather than to lump them in the fictional box we've created for them to support our (white, male, capitalist, heterosexist patriarchy) own theories of inferiority. Why can't we accept difference, love it and support each other because of, not in spite of, it? Perhaps that's too much to ask.

So when the next time you see me walking down the street, rocking, my Afro, my baby girl on my hip sans a ring on my 4th (or 2nd, depending on where you start) finger, and a backpack on my back. Don't assume I'm a welfare queen, an uneducated hoodrat, a baby mama, a ho, a shoplifter or the plethora of other sterotypes abounding about women who may look like me. Just remember, you don't know me or even my type (what's that?) so please, don't pretend you do.

On Dreams and Girls and my Love for (and thoughts on) the Remake...

As I sit here reflecting on the beauty that is Dreamgirls, I'm filled with a myriad of emotions. The first, of course, is satisfaction, as the film is a most pleasurable spectacle for the eye to behold. Second is pride, because the all-Black cast certainly pulled it off (even Beyonce, I wouldn't go as far as saying her performance was Oscar worthy, but she did good nonetheless) with finesse. And third (because I like to do things in threes) I'm feeling mighty contemplative right now. There were so many issues (not all negative, but worth a little consideration) that were brought up in the film - issues of sexism and racism and I guess you can say colorism, and the list goes on.

But I'll get to all that later. First, I just want to muse on just how wonderful I found the film to be. The music. Oh sweet Mother Goddess, it was wonderful! When Jennifer Hudson sang "And I'm Telling You I'm Not Going," I literally had tears in my eyes. I'm a lover of voices - good voices that is. Instruments, performance, and the like are great and certainly have the power to move me. But there is nothing like a good voice and that girl know she can sing! I keep thinking, that's the same girl from American Idol (and yes I thought she could blow back then too) up there singing her ass off. Damn. That's all I can say. But she's not the only one. Anika Noni Rose was also great and so was Beyonce.
What's so ironic to me are the similarities between Beyonce, Deena and Beyonce's top billing in the credits. First of all, I must admit that I have a love-hate relationship (ok, ok, so it's not a true relationship) with Beyonce. So yeah she is most definitely beautiful and sexy as hell (with make-up, I think she's the only woman I find more attractive with make-up), but looks aside I don't know how comfortable I am with her persona. No, I don't mean the innocent, good girl persona her Daddy and publicist try so hard to present; I mean the Diana Ross-divaesque-cut-members-out-of-the-group-and-steal-the-limelight-so-that-I-can-make-the-group-the-stepping-stone-for-my-solo-career persona that seems to seep through the hype. I don't care how shy she might pretend to or actually be, you have to be cut throat to get rid of two original members of a group that you've known since childhood and make said group into a solo thing with two back up singers. Damn. Beyonce is a beast!

And so is Deena. Deena did the same thing in the movie. Used that innocent fascade to mask her inner monster. And you know, I'm really all for women getting fierce for what they want, but somehow Beyonce rubs me the wrong way. Why can't women get ahead without stepping on other women? Why can't we be successful with other women? Why does it have to be a me or them thing instead of a us thing? I was thinking about that as I watched the movie. If Effie and Deena had just said, fuck you Curtis Taylor jr. we don't succumb to the oppression of patriarchy even from our black brother, things would've been so much better for the both of them. Probably though, things would've been different in a bad way. At least for Deena. There would be no Deena and the Dreams, only two Black women in line for welfare checks, instead of one. The world wasn't ready for women running things back then and it certainly isn't now.
But back to the irony. Isn't ironic how Beyonce - like Deena - gets top billing over Jennifer Hudson who literally made the movie? And ask me who can sing better; Beyonce was out of her league in this one. She can't act and though she can sing, she sho did get upstaged by this chubby, American Idol reject who deserves every accolade she gets and more. I said it before, Jennifer Hudson can blow. But whatever, I still think Beyonce can sing and I sure did have my baby daddy give me the bootleg (no I did not spend my hard earned money on her album - never that) version of her first solo cd and yeah I loved it. I do, however, hate how Beyonce gets all the attention for this when her performace is so obviously sub-par when compared to that of Hudson. I'm not trying to pit the two against each other (ok, ok so I don't have the power to do that). I'm all for sisterhood well in this case I mean sistahood (for those who may be unfamiliar I'm referring to the common bond and support shared between two Black women), but what's fair is fair. Jennifer Hudson is the star of the remake of Dreamgirls.

Well, I've reached the end of my written ponderance of the Dreamgirls film. I didn't touch on a fraction of the forementioned issues I found, but I feel compelled to end here. Obviously I thought very highly of the film. I say obviously because in addition to this lengthy blog I've written, I felt compelled to bring my lazy ass down to the basement, boot-up the computer and write this piece after a long pause if you will since my last entry and since I last wrote anything (some journalism major I am). So here I sit at 2:34 am on Christmas or I'm sorry the first day Kwanzaa (Habari Ghani to all my fellow celebrants) reviewing the film. So I'll end with this: I strongly urge everyone to see the film! It was great! Jennifer Hudson was great! Anika Noni Rose's performance was great (and her giggle at the beginning infectious)! Beyonce looked great with all her make-up and sang beautifully on "Listen". It was just great!

NOTE: I do not hate Beyonce. I am somewhat of a fan. I just have some problems with the working of her inner beast is all.

On Oral Sex, Bubble Gum and Flying Solo

"Eeny, meeny, miny mo, how many bitches in the club won go..."

What has the world come to? This has got to be the stupidest song I have ever heard in my life! For those who are blessed not to know of what I speak, I'm referring to yung Joc's new single, "I Know You See It". The lyrics are laughable. It must be a joke, because me and my friends sure do laugh every time it comes on the radio (which in Cincinnati is like every other song). I'm not sure if this is the intended reaction, but it sure works for me.

This song really bugs me. It's not the blatant mysogyny or the nursery school rhymes, that get me though, it's this line right here:

"I'm like bim bam I know you want some, chewing on the pussy like a piece of bubble gum ..."

What the fuck? Can someone please tell me why I want someone chewing on my pussy like bubble gum? That shit would hurt! I hear women and girls alike blasting this mess, and I wonder if they're really listening. I mean seriously, do you really want someone knawing on your vulva? Ewww yuck!

Someone needs to sit poor Ms. B down and explain to her that it doesn't have to be that way. Oral sex can be very wonderful and pleasureful and not painful at all. In fact, if some poor, ignorant soul is inflicting pain whilst attempting to please you orally, simply remove said person's face from your woman parts and kindly ask them to leave or perhaps teach them how to please you. No need to rap about it.

Perhaps Ms. B likes it like that though. Maybe she's a masochist. If so, she should kindly disregard any advice from people like myself, who can't stomach this particular type of pain, and continue to do as she pleases.

I really respect that, the notion of doing what one pleases, in this case, sexually. My friend told me the other night that she believes every woman should own a vibrator and masturbate. I wholeheartedly agree. Every woman should know how to please herself, because not only is it fun, it's liberating, too. It's not healthy to rely on others for one's personal satisfaction, sexual or otherwise. I've learned that Beyonce's, "Me, Myself and I" is on point, because how can you expect someone else to please you if you can't please yourself?

But I digress. Yung Joc's, "I Know You See It," is a silly little diddy (pun intended) that led me to reflect on women and our sexuality, and for that I am grateful. It also allows me and my girls a good laugh, which is always a good thing in my book. So, kudos to Yung Joc on inspiring one woman to handle her business alone!