Read This Week

This is my 45th Read This Week feature! If you’re new to Gradient Lair, each week I post essays, articles, journal articles and/or papers of interest to me that I think will be of interest to you, based on your interest in my blog. Below are good reads:

So Gwyneth Paltrow is the “Worlds Most Beautiful Woman?” Yeah Fucking Right on The Negress is a good read. She isn’t calling Paltrow “ugly” and she does mention Beyoncé’s past selection, with important context. Very important, regarding how narrow memes of Eurocentric beauty is forced on and decided for women.

Baby Hair: For Gabby, Blue Ivy & Me on Crunk Feminist Collective is a great read that I and just about every Black woman I know can relate to.  “I wonder what would happen if we praised black girls for their beauty instead of looking at them through a lens of criticism.”

An Open Letter To Folks of Color on Black Girl Dangerous is a great read. It’s difficult and sweet. It alludes to the resilience and resistance, the creativity and the character of people of colour despite oppression. It doesn’t deify or dehumanize though because there IS pain and we DO feel it, but it’s like a “you’re amazing despite this” kind of letter.

Black/Non-Black Divide and The Anti-Blackness of Non-Black Minorities by Robert Reese of Still Furious and Still Brave is a great read. As the former letter I mentioned discusses the connection between people of colour, this one discusses something that is often silenced—the anti-Blackness that many non-Black people of colour have, and how White supremacy and the ever shifting boundaries of race play a role.

Why Jason Collins’ Faith is Ignored… And Tebow’s Isn’t by @graceishuman is a good read. There’s a homophobic meme going around among Conservatives about how Collins is a hero despite being gay and Tebow isn’t for being Christian. Um…Collins is Christian too. Thus, she explores how White supremacy shapes even who is considered a “real” Christian. (As an agnostic atheist, it made me think of something Black feminist, atheist and radical humanist Sikivu Hutchinson said.)

Stay tuned for next week’s suggestions!

Could The Video For “Q.U.E.E.N.” Have Been More Inclusive? (Yep)

This post is in response to kiddotrue’s comment on my review of Janelle Monae’s and Erykah Badu’s video for their amazing song “Q.U.E.E.N.” She wrote:

The video is cute. I just was hoping that I’d see a body like mine in it. It was pretty much what I imagined, black girls dancing around and being awesome, a celebration of us. Just feeling a bit left out. I wanna be celebrated.

She’s totally right. Though they do have curvier (and darker complexioned) Black women in the video than in most music videos, fashion displays, films or anything else in the visual arts, the video could have included Black women beyond size 12, which is what I would guess the curviest woman in the video is. It could have been more diverse. If it was, then the video would have truly been 100% perfect, really. 

I hope that Janelle and Erykah do consider this in the future because both artists are already critical thinkers about so much in the industry. I hope they express their ability to expand their lenses in the future. (For example, I saw a photo of Beyoncé’s tour where her dancers and backup vocalists are a variety of sizes, and all female. I loved it.)

Because I am a big fan of both artists, because of my own thin privilege and because it’s still rare to see positive anything regarding Black women (especially brown skinned black women who aren’t size 6 and below), I did not notice the lack of diversity in sizes. My bad.

Can People Critique Black Women Without Resorting To “Isms?”

Do you know how utterly rare it is for someone to tell me that they do not like a specific Black woman, nonfamous or famous, without resorting to:

• racism
• White supremacist, Eurocentric constructions of beauty
• colourism
• sexism
• racialized sexism
• misogyny
• misogynoir
• classism
• the politics of respectability / theist-shaped perceptions that involve misogynoir and classism
• fatphobia
• homophobia
• transphobia

Do people realize that it is possible to dislike someone’s writing, art, music, personality, style or something else without resorting to oppression-supporting slurs/criticisms or bigotry? They should be able to articulate why they dislike the Black woman in question WITHOUT any of this.

But no…instead they resort to wanting a fictional Black female character in a film or show dead, or a Black female celebrity to be endlessly criticized while anything she does that is good is ignored, or Black women degraded for doing the same things that White women do, or Black women shamed for something that every other race and gender is applauded for—like earning a degree, and on and on and on…

Related Essay List: On Black Women…

Read This Week

This is my 44th Read This Week feature. Each week I recommend essays, articles and/or papers/journals that I’ve recently read. Below are some great reads:

Radio Silence by Chelo Keys is a painful read but a very important one. She’s very honest about the manifestations of colourism (a product of White supremacy) in her life as an Afro-Latina and how knowing it is wrong and problematic didn’t immediately stop her from breathing a sigh of relief when her son was born not as dark as his father. It’s a painful reality that many Black women face and she was honest enough to share the experience.

How the 3/5ths Live by Stacia L. Brown is an exquisite essay. Just…read it. The way she uses language gives me goosebumps of pleasure, even as she wrote about something complicated and painful for me to read; the racist dehumanization of Black bodies and lives. The whole thing is excellent but that intro paragraph is EVERYTHING, especially regarding Whites who are certain that it is only “arbitrarily” their “hard work” that guarantees their current wealth.

Hey, White Liberals: A Word On The Boston Bombings, The Suffering Of White Children, And The Erosion of Empathy on Black Girl Dangerous is a good read. She mentions how the continued devaluation of Black life, especially of children, via media and society at large while the out pour of care exists for loss of lives of White people is problematic. (There’s actual evidence to support the inability of Whites to empathize with Black people; this is hot hard to fathom when a society is shaped by White supremacy.) Very important read.

Merging Masculinities: Gay (Black) Men in Pro Sports by Robert Reese of Still Furious and Still Brave is a good read. It wasn’t about Jason Collins specifically, but aptly applies. He challenges the notion of heterosexuality and masculinity being paired without room for nuanced perceptions of masculinity, especially in the world of professional athletics. He also speaks to how race is an incredibly salient factor in regards to rigid notions of masculinity.

Private Joy by Son of Baldwin is a great read. He examines the notion of sexuality BEYOND sexual intercourse. Yep…there’s more to it than that. He also examines the idea that certain expressions of sexuality are supposed to be “hidden.” As he always does, there’s great examination intersectionally here. Race, gender, sexual orientation and more. Fascinating essay that I truly loved reading.

Stay tuned for next week’s suggestions!

White Women’s Racist Responses To Black Women’s Natural Hair

The tweet below deeply irritated me…

It genuinely disgusted me that a White woman would fix her fingers to send Solange (or any Black woman for that matter, but yes I am a Solange stan) such a disrespectful tweet.

This is not a tweet where Solange’s control over her own body is not in question (Black women can ultimately choose what they want to do with their hair), such as a question asking does she like natural hair more than relaxed hair etc. This is one where a White woman basically asserted that Solange is not beautiful without a relaxer, especially in an age where many Black women are going natural and an age where the politicization and dehumanization of Black bodies still remains an issue.

I love Solange’s response and she simply blocked the woman and went on with her fabulous life. (The woman then tweeted a screen capture of Solange blocking her. Really. She couldn’t stop with this first tweet.)

Then yesterday, I watched a video by wordwarfare (B. Marie) on Tumblr where she proceeded to describe conversation after conversation with her mother’s White nurse; the woman seemed to NOT KNOW WHEN TO QUIT. Insults and quasi-compliments as racial microaggressions and some overt racism seemed to be how this woman made small talk about B. Marie’s natural hair. This included her claiming that Whites have “good hair” and “bad hair” too (totally eschewing the politicization and dehumanization along with White supremacy and colourism that creates this dichotomy for Black people) and repeatedly questioning her care regimen.

White privilege is why White women do not have to know when to quit; they’re reared to believe that they are the standard of beauty coupled with the idea that their opinion matters more and should be inserted anywhere, because they are White.

Between seeing these two incidents and the oh so many incidents that I have had with White women regarding my hair (including trying to touch it, as if they are entitled to put their hands on my body), I’ve come back to that place…that question about White women, Black women and interpersonal relationships. I cannot have any with ones who are not intersectional feminists that I’ve personally vetted. I’ve tried. I no longer try. I don’t have any White friends, but it certainly isn’t because I never tried.

I can (and do) have relationships with some Black women who aren’t womanist/feminist. Why? Because regardless of the differing ideology, I’ve not encountered any Black women who view me as an immediate inferior, a science experiment to appropriate from or destroy, or a threat to their concept of beauty. Even when dealing with ones who are patriarchal and colourist—the experiences still have not left me with the stress that the experiences with insensitive and racist White women have.

Situations like these (and the plethora of microaggressions and overt racism that I’ve dealt with from them) are why I simply do not want to have conversations about my hair with White women…like ever. We don’t have anything to discuss.

Related Posts: 7 Things To STOP Saying To Black Women About Beauty, Black Women Do Not Have To Reject Any Mention Of Beauty To Be Womanist/Feminist, White Women In Black Natural Hair Spaces, Natural Hair IS For Everybody

A Note To Some Feminist Black Men: Though bell hooks Is Exquisite, There’s More To Black Feminism Than bell hooks

bell hooks is one of the most exquisite, thoughtful, complex, intellectual, and compassionate Black feminist scholars of our time. She’s often the doorway to Black feminist thought for Black feminists, whether women or men, and even White feminists who seek to move beyond the writing of “mainstream” feminists and begin to commit to intersectional feminist scholarship. Her writing is probing and thoughtful and while like all writing, not above critique, it really helped to form part of the foundation of a lot of modern feminist scholarship. I’ve read quite a few of her books, essays, papers and have seen videos of her talks. I quote her often as well. She’s brilliant.

I also know that there is more to Black feminist thought than bell hooks alone. I sometimes wonder if some feminist Black men do.

I know that look that they get—that moment when they first start to realize that patriarchy and patriarchal masculinity are constructs and not fixed or “natural” ways of being. Some start to embrace the concept of anti-sexism and anti-homophobia and not just anti-racism. This is good. They read The Will To Change - Men, Masculinity and Love by bell hooks. They read We Real Cool - Black Men and Masculinity by bell hooks. They start to listen to Black women and consider Black women as truly human even beyond the idea of their connection to men as mom/sister/daughter/GF/wife. This is also good. But this only scratches the surface.

I know that “entry into Black feminism” look and vigor too. My pathway to womanist thought was via The Color Purple by Alice Walker, which I first read when I was 12. My mind was blown. Here was a complex portrait of Black girlhood/womanhood beyond the White gaze and shaped by a Black woman. Here was multiple depictions of Black womanhood with depth and complexity and challenging INTRARACIAL oppression of Black women in addition to interracial oppression. (At such a young age I was already force-fed the idea that intraracial oppression was non-existent—that racism was evil but that intraracial sexism, homophobia, misogynoir and colourism, for example, were “right” or “natural.”) This was new to me on paper though at this age, I was already experiencing street harassment by Black men yet faced racist and sexist oppression at school and intraracial sexist and misongyoirist oppression at church. I lived intersectionality long before I knew of it ideologically. My life changed forever after reading more of her writing. Another pivotal moment for me was when I first heard Queen Latifah’s song “U.N.I.T.Y.” as a freshman in high school. That song is a true womanist epistle. (I didn’t get into Toni Morrison until high school and bell hooks until undergrad for example, where her writing was like an adult doorway into more feminist thought; even so, I embraced Alice Walker first.)

Thus, I don’t dismiss that initial entrance or that book, concepts and/or person that causes an internal paradigm shift for a womanist/feminist. But even at 12 I knew (though I couldn’t articulate it at this level yet) that no one person should be treated as a mascot for Black feminist thought or have Black feminist thought affected by essentialism where any one person becomes what the theory and praxis is about. Even bell hooks would not want that and alludes to this in her writing.

When Black men reduce Black feminist thought to one author and need that to be their go to author, there’s a problem. Sure, we can all have authors/writers that we love (such as Alice Walker, Toni Morrison, Audre Lorde, Maya Angelou, Kimberlé Crenshaw, Patricia Hill Collins, Sonia Sanchez, Nikki Giovanni, Angela Davis, Sikivu Hutchinson and yep, bell hooks are for me) but Black feminist thought is not solely about famous names. Feminist praxis is not solely about pasting quotes from bell hooks on Twitter. Feminist writing is not only what is on Amazon from a formal publisher by the few who even get to that level of platform.

Anytime I challenge Black men who are interested in feminist scholarship to READ MORE and LEARN MORE than just bell hooks or even primarily bell hooks, I receive pushback. They go full into male privilege or bust mode. Some suggest that since she specifically addresses men at times, she’s “better.” Um…doesn’t this sound like Whites who need a White character (and even worse, a “hero”) in a Black novel before they can care or “relate” to the story? Privilege much? If they need a man on the cover of a book or masculinity and nothing else addressed in feminist scholarship, their feminism is not intersectional; they’re basically engaging in a reductionist approach, viewing feminist scholarship in print as elaborate self-help books and little more. Feminism cannot solely be about them proving how they’re “good” men. While I do believe that how we embody the oppressor within is where all feminist work begins, I also know that feminism is not about me “proving” how “good” of a woman I am.

The reality is if a feminist Black man cannot care about feminist scholarship unless they feel the writing is specifically for men only, or centered on masculinity from how they perform it versus how it impacts Black women, children, families and themselves, there’s a problem. This is not progressive. There is more to intersectional feminism than solely considerations of gender. Their feminism needs to be intersectional. While critiques about patriarchy are critical, where is their understanding of White supremacy, racism, sexism, colorism, misogynoir, misogyny, homophobia, transphobia, ableism, fatphobia, and more? It’s one thing to be new on the path and journey of feminism and simply not have embraced these topics…yet (though oppression is intersectional, so to only study patriarchy and masculinity without other axes of oppression is missing something huge). It’s another to assume that they have all of the answers to Black feminist thought because they are men who sometimes challenge patriarchal thinking and found a favorite author.

 A commitment to justice is MORE than about how they can personally be less patriarchal in their personal lives. It’s more than them reading and citing her books daily and then retreating to male privilege to either heavily critique women who haven’t embraced feminism at all yet (I loathe this; it’s like White atheists telling Black theists to reject theism because of slavery) or ignoring calls for them to check their male privilege by feminist Black women. Black men who engage in essentialism with bell hooks run the risk of doing what Whites do with anti-racism study by reading/quoting MLK and little to no one else. (This holds a special irony since Black women’s contributions to Civil Rights work is heavily marginalized/ignored by Whites and Black men quite often.) Doing this makes their profound work caricatures and gimmicks instead of tools to deconstruct and fight oppression.

The worst of all is the attitude that I’ve received from some feminist Black men—as if I should be “desperately” thankful for their existence and endlessly and daily applaud them for not being misogynist. Excuse me for not creating thrones—I could’ve sworn that’s something that occurs amidst patriarchal thinking, not anti-oppression, intersectional feminist thinking. The thing is, I do talk to feminist Black men, read their writing, share important dialogue and more. I recognize when they’re doing something interesting. I won’t worship them, however, any more than I will Whites engaged in anti-racism work. I won’t praise anything they do over those with the lived experience of the form of oppression they’re against. If an ally requires worship to be an ally, they aren’t an ally. Ally work needs to be noble without the incessant need for the praise of its nobility, otherwise it becomes about oppressed people applauding their oppressors, which is not revolutionary.

In the same way that I expect White feminists not to engage in essentialist thinking of Gloria Steinem, I expect feminist Black men not to engage in essentialist thinking of bell hooks.  While the journey into Black feminist thought by Black men matters deeply, intellectual laziness, essentialism, a lack of commitment to intersectional thinking/complete commitment to justice and male privilege will not be ignored, at least by me.

Read This Week

This is my 43rd Read This Week feature. Each week I recommend essays, articles and/or papers/journals that I’ve recently read. Below are some great reads:

How To Research & Info On Post-Slavery Oppression of Black Women is a Storify of tweets and text by me. I usually don’t include my own writing in a Read This Week, but this involves others as well. Basically a Black man suggested that Black women have not/do not experience oppression since slavery. His source? An Oxford dictionary definition of oppression. Our sources? Actual history, research, facts, and lived experience.

Rage Against The Patriarchy, Dr. Nikita Levy, and The Devaluation of Black Women by @blkgirlwithapen is an important read, though quite painful, naturally. Levy was (now deceased by suicide) a physician who exploited Black women’s safety and security by video recording gynecological exams at John Hopkins for decades. She questions this dehumanization amidst the history of sexual dehumanization of Black women’s bodies, in the healthcare system.

Baiting Black Men: Exotic Friends and Ethnic Social Circles by @AsiaBrown on For Harriet is VERY interesting and something I’ve never thought very deeply about because my friends have always been Black girls when young, Black women as adults. She mentions how some Black women befriend non-Black women and those women are articulated as “bait” for Black men (she names Black female rap stars who’ve mentioned this) and can possibly reveal self-hatred and hatred towards other Black women, by Black women. 

How To Be A Fan Of Problematic Things on Social Justice League is a really good read. Sometimes it is difficult to accept criticism of the media that we consume. Media is problematic because humans are. Media has “isms” because humans proliferate them. This post explains how to proceed with being a critical thinker and someone who consumes media.

And finally, I like this questioned answered where brashblacknonbeliever on Tumblr explains the difference between the derailment tactic of “we are not all like that” by Whites, versus Black and other people of colour REJECTING the White supremacist notion that people of colour are all the same. This distinguishing is critical.

Stay tuned for next week’s suggestions!

Black Women Do Not Have To Reject Any Mention Of Beauty To Be Womanist/Feminist

Black women, especially ones with rich dark complexions, voluptuously thick and full bodies, mesmerizing brown eyes, wide noses, enviable full lips, and/or versatile curly or kinky textured hair—the women least likely to be considered beautiful in a White supremacist capitalist patriarchal society—are the ones most often demanded to reject any mention of beauty, especially to “prove” how “feminist” we are. This leads to “unfeminist” vs. “feminist” labeling—labels to reinforce a hierarchy, not truly speaking to actual feminism. (I don’t like the word “unfeminist.”)

The idea that beauty and intelligence are mortal enemies actually represents binary labeling in a patriarchal society—labeling meant to facilitate the idea that women who represent either one are enemies, and the notion that women can only have one or the other. (And for Black women, it doesn’t really matter—both our beauty and intelligence are usually denied.) Claiming one “side” versus the other is not truly progressive; it’s taking a limited approach to thinking about a FULL human being and denying the fullness of who she is. Ignoring one for the other and forcefully rejecting the other is not revolutionary.

This becomes complicated for womanist/feminist Black women because often feminist White women demand any talk of beauty be silenced or rejected. As I wrote about before (in relation to Michelle, Sasha and Malia Obama), it’s awfully convenient for White women who have their beauty affirmed regularly and whose images dominate all forms of media to want such talk silenced. They’re going to see themselves affirmed whether they speak about it or not. Yet Black women who are not only excluded from notions of beauty (and simultaneously notions of goodness, kindness, and worth—which are actually wrongly associated with only beauty and should be critiqued when that simple association occurs) but ALSO are consistently portrayed as ugly and thereby bad, unkind and worthless, are expected to ignore all beauty talk, not affirm their own beauty or other Black women’s or are supposed to only affirm intelligence and related accomplishments. This expectation of some White feminists clearly reveals that they do not understand or are being willfully obtuse regarding the differences in experiences between Black and White women in America where beauty (and plenty of other areas) is concerned. No country for nuance and intersectionality? (To be clear, this isn’t to assert that White women don’t face sexist reductionism in regards to beauty, or that they “all” even meet all Eurocentric beauty standards, despite all having White privilege.)

At times, I feel as if this relates to them projecting their view of us as “allies” to their feminism, not as actual womanists/feminists ourselves. “Be intelligent and hardworking for us but shut up about beauty or we’ll have to address how White supremacy shapes (well…everything) the concept of beauty in the first place,” seems to be the underlying message at times.

Clearly Black women shouldn’t take the approach that “only” beauty matters or determine another Black woman’s worth by her appearance. Further, colourism and Eurocentric beauty myths impact how many Black women perceive beauty and how beauty is portrayed as a concept itself in our society. Thus, deciding that only thin and/or only those Black women with passing or light skinned privilege and long straight hair are beautiful and thereby more worthy of anything considered good is problematic. Prizing beauty over every other facet such as a fascinating personality, confidence, intelligence, talent, vision, kindness, wit, creativity, humor, lovingness and all that Black women are then becomes an internalized sexist (and possibly colourist, fat shaming) reduction.

However, ignoring beauty to please White feminists, never personally affirming one’s own beauty (or other Black women’s beauty) as a Black woman, and not challenging negative notions (shaped by White supremacy, racism, sexism and misogynoir) about Black women’s beauty is actually full complicity with White supremacist capitalist patriarchy. We’re supposed to think of ourselves as inferior (to everyone, especially White women) in every category, especially beauty. When we reject this and deconstruct White supremacist notions of beauty, we engage in self-care (a part of healthy self-esteem, in regards to race) and critical reflection. Critical reflection is also action. This is womanism/intersectional feminism in practice.

I curate and post photographs of Black women in America and abroad, thin and thick, dark skinned, brown skinned and light skinned, with short hair and long hair, famous and non-famous, to show the diversity in our beauty (which includes uniqueness, style, fashion and representations of diverse cultures, in general). This matters. This especially matters since many of the images I post and that I truly find beautiful are in direct opposition to mainstream (read: White supremacist) concepts of beauty. My defiance is purposeful. The idea that images do not matter and beauty is always irrelevant is a construction meant to KEEP Black women thinking of themselves as inferior while consuming an endless stream of images that affirm White supremacy and Eurocentric beauty. Thus, anyone, White, Black or otherwise, who suggests that Black women should ignore their own beauty (which really means to never consider themselves beautiful) and never affirm it for themselves or other Black women, in a White supremacist capitalist patriarchal society, is asking Black women to commit psychological, emotional and cultural violence against themselves and other Black women. This most certainly is diametrically opposed to womanist/intersectional feminist theory and praxis.

I also post various forms of art, media, news, critiques and accomplishments of Black women to affirm many facets of who we are. I also write about my and other Black women’s intersectional experiences in critical essays. Thus, I never take the approach that “only” beauty matters. Conversely, I refuse to ignore beauty as to appear “more” “feminist” to feminist White women. They aren’t my “feminist keepers.”

My womanism isn’t a performance to please a White female audience; it’s about affirming myself and other Black women, rejecting White supremacist capitalist patriarchal thinking, challenging the kyriarchal society that we live in, and taking a complete anti-oppression stance, hand in hand, with any and all who face oppression (whether such oppression is related to racism, sexism, misognyoir, misogyny, classism, homophobia, transphobia, sizeism, ableism, etc. or the intersection of multiple forms of oppression). I am “committed to survival and wholeness of entire people” as the definition of womanism includes.

Wholeness relates to recognizing the nuances, intersections and fullness of people and this includes Black women. We aren’t just any one thing. I don’t view feminist praxis on a personal level as choosing one side of any patriarchal binary, but rejecting binaries and racist/sexist (or any “isms” related) simplifications in the first place. I view it as deconstruction and rejection of rigid thinking and action, which then allows individual choice and collective growth and liberation.

Black Couples In Television/Film - Casting and Colourism

It’s very rare to see a heterosexual Black couple cast on a show or film where the Black woman has a darker complexion than the Black man. “Uncle Phil” and the first “Aunt Viv” on The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air and “Carl Winslow” and “Harriet Winslow” on Family Matters comes to mind. The only problem with these examples is that they are from shows that ran from 1990-1996 and 1989-1998, respectively. (I do recall that in In Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close [2011], Viola Davis’ character’s ex-husband is portrayed by Jeffrey Wright, who has a lighter complexion than her.)

It’s 2013 though. The pervasiveness of “light” = “beautiful and feminine” and “dark” = “masculine” persists. Colourism. Eurocentric beauty ideals.

Alice Walker defined colourism as “prejudicial or preferential treatment of same-race people based solely on their color” in In Search of Our Mothers’ Gardens, her ovarial [seminal what?] work where the term womanism was born, though it spoke to a long legacy of Black women’s anti-oppression work that precedes the term. She raised a biracial daughter and documented the differences in experiences among Black women with passing privilege (i.e. Soledad O’Brien, Mariah Carey) or light skin privilege (i.e. Melissa Harris-Perry, Goldie Taylor) and brown-skinned (MIchelle Obama, Angela Bassett) and dark skinned Black women (i.e. Viola Davis, Alek Wek). (To be clear, she did not specifically mention these women; I am just providing examples to illustrate the variance in complexion.)

Upon re-reading the book this year, I thought about how though I never experienced preferrential treatment for my complexion because I am not light skinned, I was never called “dark” or “ugly” solely for my complexion, being somewhat just “brown” and not considered light or dark. Another thing that came to mind earlier today is that I was expected to “ally” with light skinned Black girls against dark skinned Black girls and mock them, but still accept my “place” as not as pretty as the former. I wonder if any other Black women who aren’t considered light or dark experienced this as a girl? There’s a great deal of nuance in the experiences of Black women based on skin colour, hair texture and hair length, despite all Black women facing marginalization in this society for race and gender. The latter is why the former is often ignored or at times, aggressively silenced.

While the few times that I do see a media portrayal of a Black couple with humanity, I feel pleased about that, two things still bother me 1) the fact that if they are heterosexual, the Black woman will most likely have lighter skin than the Black man 2) the fact that they are heterosexual. The minimization or non-existence of LGBTQ couples in television and film, especially if they are Black is staggering. Yes, I know about “Cyrus” and “James” (cisgender, gay White men) on Scandal, for example, but again, pointing out one example of something does not mean much when I am discussing the full scope of representation.

I’ve noticed the same thing in TV commercials as well—when a Black couple is cast. In multiracial commercials, often times a Black woman with a darker complexion will be shown alone while the Black man is near a Black woman with a lighter complexion or a non-Black or White woman altogether. Other times, no Black women are cast at all.

Whether anecdotal stories from Black people, reading literature or reading blogs, articles and scholarly journal articles, a familiar tale surfaces. Men are taught to prize beauty and women are taught to prize income/status in a patriarchal society. After reading @FeministaJones’ essay If You’re “All That”, Why Are You Single?, where she mentioned studies that explain looks/intelligence/income and dating correlations in society, it reminded me of this very notion. As beauty continues to be defined by Eurocentric norms, both on screen and off screen, many Black men will be paired with a partner of a lighter complexion, both on screen and off screen. (This is why the Obamas on first appearance are also noticeable; I don’t see many Black couples like them, where the woman has a darker complexion.) Colorism, internalized White supremacy and Eurocentric beauty norms does impact perceptions of beauty and permeates dating. 

When Black women who are significantly lighter than Harriet Tubman and Nina Simone, for example, are cast to portray them, again the message is received that 1) dark skinned Black female actors cannot even be cast for roles portraying women who look like them 2) Hollywood and society at large cannot bear to see dark skin on screen, even when the portrayal is historically accurate.

Related Posts: Where Are The Black Writers Of Television Shows?, Black Funds For Black Films?

I Won’t Accept Abuse In The Name Of Racial “Unity”

I’m trying to understand why I should endure abuse from some Black men (usually) or some Black women (sometimes) solely because we are all Black. This silencing of intraracial hatred is supposed to represent “unity” so that Whites (*sigh* always about the White gaze) will think that we are a race of problem-free people and thus, finally treat us as human, since of course, impossible perfection must be earned before our actual existing humanity is recognized.

The only problem is that intraracial patriarchy, sexism, misogyny, colorism etc. and then racism and White supremacy make sure that this never will occur on top of the fact that the logic behind this is flawed and incredibly destructive.

This is truly what the ones who are abusive towards me suggest with their stunts and then anger at my response if my response to the abuse is anything other than acceptance or silence.

This is terrible to me. I’ve experienced it long before I had the words to articulate it—even as a young girl. I see it among strangers (and live it dealing with street harassment), between so-called friends, in destructive parent-child relationships and in incredibly damaging relationships between lovers.

(There’s a scene in the film Wattstax where a Black woman says “the way he abuses me is beautiful” in regards to Black men hurting her, and I think this did something to me really awful; I feel permanently scarred from this. Film is never “just” film anyway.)

Accepting abuse to appear “unified” is just a destructive coping mechanism in a White supremacist society. This is not indictment of all Black people or posit of Black people as inherently pathological. This is also not a logically fallacious stance—that mentioning intraracial abuse somehow exonerates centuries of and current racist abuse by Whites.

For a long time and even now many Black people aren’t comfortable being and/or aren’t allowed to be their full selves around Whites, and even if they are, many Whites can’t truly see them anyway. (Usually they’re appropriated from, diminished or attacked versus being truly seen.) We have a long history of obscuring emotions, hiding truths and performing happiness for actual survival amidst White supremacist institutions and around White people. An example includes slaves singing and smiling as gloom or anger could be viewed as laziness or trying to plan an escape and it was punishable by whipping or even murder. Later during the Jim Crow era, forcefully dropping gaze/avoiding eye contact with Whites as to not appear disrespectful and face punishment was common.

The problem is this “performance” as a survival tactic has been internalized. The performance is also intraracial. I’m expected to accept abuse to perform the role of “strong Black woman” for Black men and “enduring sisterhood” for Black women. The price of this performance is high and many Black people pay it. It’s paid for in sleepless nights, high blood pressure, diabetes, cancer, anxiety, depression, loneliness, phony friendships, abusive marriages, domestic violence, rape, and death. The price is too high.

Even if I pretend that being Black is perfection as a hyperbolic reaction to the White supremacist notion that being Black is inferior in every way, the latter lie isn’t going to change because of the former lie. White supremacy and racism exist because of who we are, not because of what we do, as Black people. I’m not going to endure intraracial abuse in the hopes that pretending it doesn’t hurt and our race is problem-free will mean that Whites will view me as human. I’m not concerned with their gaze. I’m concerned with my and other people’s liberation from abuse at a microcosmic and intraracial level and oppression at a macrocosmic and intraracial/interracial level.

I’m not interested in unity with ANYONE if the price is suffering in silence. Claims of unity without a commitment to justice are meaningless.

“But please remember, especially in these times of groupthink and the right-on chorus, that no person is your friend (or kin) who demands your silence, or denies your right to grow and be perceived as fully blossomed as you were intended. Or who belittles in any fashion the gifts you labor so to bring into the world.” - Alice Walker

Black Girls and Dolls; Black Women and Pinterest

Yesterday I saw a photograph from the 1970s of a group of Black girls playing with all White dolls on fuckyeahdollsofcolor’s Tumblr blog. I liked fuckyeahdollsofcolor’s comment:

There were a few black dolls from Mattel released in the late 1960’s [Francie], [Julia] and though I’m not sure what their distribution & production quantities might have been, I feel it’s safe to assume they were not widely available, compared to the “standard” white Barbie dolls. I’m thinking of the culture that led to these children not only having limited access to dolls that look (at least a little bit) like them, while having wider access to dolls that look like white people. In the end, it reminds me a bit of the topsy turvy doll I posted recently. At risk of sounding trite or saccharine, this is why I do what I do.

I appreciate this blog. I post photographs of Black dolls too, from time to time, for this same reason (information, appreciation and affirmation) as well as posts tagged “kids” in addition to the photographs, art, and videos that I post of Black women. (I explained this in further detail in my bio and in a post that I suggest people read before subscribing/reblogging/posting comments to Gradient Lair.)

This got me thinking about Black women and Pinterest. There are some Black women that I sadly had to unfollow because they post entirely too many photographs of White women. They post more photographs of White women than the White women that I follow do.

White women’s images (mostly cisgender and thin White women) dominate ALL FORMS OF MEDIA in the United States, in regards to women. (I mention gender, since in certain areas, White men’s images dominate. For example, they still appear in films more than anyone else.) This is not an opinion. This is fact. Television commercials. Television shows. Print ads. Billboards. Films. Magazine covers. Stock photography. Business websites. Major fashion blogs. I could continue…

Just as Black parents need to be deliberate about countering the negative messages (both interracial and intraracial messages; and these are inherently connected) that Black girls receive about beauty, Black women also have be deliberate about what we consume, even what we post as “beauty” and “health” and “style” examples on Pinterest. We cannot control (though we always have to push back with critical reflection and critique, if not actively involved in adding to the content available for and about Black women) every media interpretation that is purposely meant to reinforce Eurocentric beauty and Whiteness as “universal.” However, Pinterest is…a choice; the images that we select to pin to infer various forms of goodness are choices. Media is not arbitrary, random, neutral nor apolitical. To be clear, a Black woman can post whatever she chooses on her board; I’m pointing out how these choices are not arbitrary. I just have encountered so many Black women with 10-30 Pinterest boards and not a single image of a Black woman is anywhere to be seen on them.

Certainly the images that we consume can be mixed. I went from looking at images of Black women yesterday afternoon to watching John Cusack in The Raven, which has White men on screen almost 95% of the time. (It’s one of the whitest movies that I’ve seen in a while, actually.)  However, the illusion that there is parity in choices of media representations, as if there are 10 photographs of Black women for every 10 photographs of White women is a MYTH promulgated to make it appear as if a Black person choosing to focus on imagery of Black people, for example, is being a “reverse racist” which does not exist. Rejection of White supremacy is not reverse racism, or racism, or prejudice. It’s self-affirmation. It’s necessary for healthy self-esteem.

One thing that I have done is post shoes and clothing as is, without a person in them, so that the focus is on the object (though sometimes in a white or peach-hued mannequin body) and not an endless stream of White women’s images. I already deal with over-saturation of their images and when how I look or how other Black women look is attacked daily, I don’t need to invite this type of psychic assault into my life, then write it off as “just” pictures when I know that no media is “just” anything.

There’s several Black women that I follow on Pinterest that have amazingly diverse boards or all-Black woman boards, and I like that. White women are always going to see and have images and products to reaffirm who they are. It’s not too much to want the same for Black girls and Black women.

(Oh…and I know there is a class, consumption, consumerism and capitalism argument to be made for Pinterest itself—a very legitimate one, but one that I will save for another day.)

Related Posts: Black Girls, Black Women and TV Commercials, 7 Things To STOP Saying To Black Women About Beauty, Black Beauty Supply Store Circulars

Natural Hair IS For Everybody

Black women are usually the ONLY women on Earth who are consistently told that our natural hair is ugly or natural hair “can” work but it’s “not for everybody.”

I’m not going to rehash the history of the politicization of Black hair in this post. I’m also not suggesting that Black women must wear their hair in its natural state (especially since some intraracial hierarchies perceptions don’t include dyed hair to be “natural” *sigh*) or that Black women with natural hair should police all Black women whose hair is not in its natural state. (I, like so many 30-something Black women that I know, have had my hair relaxed before too, despite it being in its natural state now.) This is not the point at the moment.

The point is, because of the politicization of Black hair and Black bodies, coupled with sexism and misogynoir, Black women uniquely face this “natural hair might not be for you” assertion, interracially and intraracially. Though Black men also have a history of altering their hair (i.e. the deep parts on one side of their hair that they used to make to mimic White male hair patterns, conking, texturizing) and some still do now, the ultimate onus of the shame associated with Black hair falls on Black women’s shoulders.

Certainly natural hair cannot automatically be viewed as “freeing” for some Black women. The fact that natural hair products cost 3-20 times more than many products for permed Black hair and non-Black hair is salient. There’s an element of class privilege involved in being able to afford the products, having an Internet connection, and having time to study blogs and YouTube videos on how to care for natural hair, most of which didn’t even exist prior to 2008 anyway. Imagine working 2 jobs with 2 kids; would that Black woman have leisure time to study natural hair? And again, learning would be relevant if she has no prior experience with her own hair if it was relaxed her entire life. There’s some Black women who’ve always had natural hair. Also, many Black people maintained fros and locs prior to the digital era. However, the billions made in the relaxed hair product industry (though there’s been a recent decline) indicate what the majority of Black women were doing with their hair prior to the most recent natural hair movement in the last few years.

Some Black women simply have never worn or even seen their hair in its natural state. Some do not want to and not solely because of the one-dimensional reason of internalized White supremacist thought—there’s more to it than that. Some are used to a specific care regimen and like their routine, despite fully knowing the history of the politicization of Black hair. Some don’t think they have to hate straight hair to prove their love of Blackness. (Because…natural hair alone is not an automatic indicator of truly loving the fullness of Blackness.)

However, I rarely hear concerns about class restraints or routine or any of this when the “natural hair is not for everybody” nonsense is spat at Black women. The root of this phrase is the assumption that only “certain” Black women should go natural. Definitely not one like me with what’s labeled as “4c” hair. Over and over again I’ve seen the colourism involved in the suggestion that loose curls (and some are deeply obsessed with using the word “curls” and never “natural hair” and that slight labeling change carries a big weight; distancing from Blackness and at times, a pathway for White women to once again dominate Black women’s discourse on beauty) of Black women or biracial/multiracial women who identify as Black are the types of hair that are “okay” if a Black woman goes natural. Some don’t take this approach but instead decide on Black women individually—if they’re “attractive enough to pull off wearing their natural hair”—as if the hair is so ugly that an inordinate amount of facial beauty is needed to “balance” this.

Natural hair IS for everybody. Every woman can choose to wear her hair in the way it grows out of her scalp, including Black women. Black women can ultimately choose to alter our hair for what we feel are good reasons or even bad reasons, as it is our bodies.

Our hair IS a part of our bodies and not just objects to be petted in a voyeuristic, zoo-like fashion by Whites and definitely not just political territory to be battled over by the world anymore.

I Am STILL HERE For Feminism

I am not interesting in abandoning intersectional feminist work as a Womanist just because some White feminists confuse gendered White supremacy for feminism.

Thus, I am not going to applaud White supremacy, racism, White privilege, patriarchy, patriarchal masculinity, phallocentrism, sexism, misogyny, misogynoir, male privilege, classism, class privilege, homophobia, transphobia, heterosexual privilege, ableism, colourism, or any other manifestations of oppression just because some White feminists are racist or mislead by their White privilege (oh and…some of them truly are).

I realize that it is easier to reject Womanism as a Black woman and adhere to the status quo and whenever I am called out on it, I can blame White feminists for being racist as my reason why I abandon this theory and praxis—I get that. OR I can continue to do the work, which involves critiquing kyriarchy even as it may permeate feminism itself since the people involved in feminist work still live in a kyriarchal society just as the ones who are not involved and either consciously and/or subconsciously accept the status quo are.

When I assert that I am still here for feminism, I also mean that I am NOT here for kyriarchal trickery and nonsense using the label “feminism.” Anyone can use a label. The proof is in the praxis. As bell hooks wrote (as @FeministGriote pointed out in her exquisite essay Allow Me To Reintroduce Myself, My Name Is Feminism):

Feminism is the struggle to end sexist oppression. Its aim is not to benefit solely any specific group of women, any particular race or class of women. It does not privilege women over men. It has the power to transform in a meaningful way all of our lives.

And it does. However, it involves the work of imperfect beings, ones that again, live in the same society as those who reject feminism and rationalize oppression through support of the status quo. Thus, it’s about critique and growth within the movement just as much, if not more, than the oppressive society that exists outside of the movement and permeates the movement. (The movement also permeates society. And, this is the work that matters.)

I mean…what do I look like accepting sexism and misogynoir from some Black men because some White women are racist? This doesn’t even make sense to me. Yet some Black women respond to me with this thinking. Conversely, so many Black women aren’t here for ANY oppression. Word.

Now, about calling oneself a “feminist,” that’s up to a person, individually. I am not interested in the labeling itself IF a person is engaged in the work through a critical intersectional perspective. However, since so many oppressive paradigms have labels, ones that aren’t attacked since they reinforce the status quo, I think anti-oppression work can have labels as well, as I believe in a politics of social location, with certain labels, even if labeling itself is an issue of power and labels themselves impact how people are treated in a kyriarchal society.

Just because I am STILL HERE for feminism does NOT mean that I am going to applaud oppressive bullshit amidst the feminist movement and I expect to be called out on my bullshit as well. How else is change going to occur? The idea that feminism is absolute, a destination (versus a journey) and is whatever the lowest common denominator of feminism is, is actually kyriarchal pushback on anti-oppression work.

How we embody the oppressor within is where all feminist work begins. I am still here for feminism because I am still here for myself. I matter. I am still here for feminism because I am still here for us. We matter.

Related Post: 7 Attacks On Feminism