a black girl

Black Feminist Answers for "Ten Questions for Black Feminists Regarding the Lack of Public Discussion on the 2008 Democratic Primary Election"

Tuesday, February 12, 2008

As an afternote these answers are response to questions posted here.

1. Why does it take Second Wave White Women Feminist to provoke Black Feminist to respond “publicly” to issues race and gender in the 2008 Presidential Election? This is not to say that black feminists or other feminist of color are not responding to the identity politics at play in the primary season outside of second wave white feminist responses. Furthermore, this is not to say that black feminist and other feminist of color are only responding to second wave white feminist critiques only. But, it seems as if the most vocal “public” outcry from feminist of color comes when second wave white feminist weigh in such as Gloria Steinem and Robin Morgan.

The caveats for this question seem to cancel out the question entirely, but I will answer it just the same. In understanding how racism works, how sexism works we have to continually question what prompts us to ask chicken and egg questions about Black feminism vs. white feminism. We also have to consider how Black feminists have always been in dialogue with politics, and weigh in continuously and presently. Who are these ubiquitous Black feminists who are being heard before or after white feminists weigh in? I've been in discussion with Black feminists, academic, public, and none of the above and we have continued to dialogue about these issues. Angela Davis, in a recent speech noted that she will be voting for Cynthia McKinney (she's running on the green party ticket). I see no better answer than that--its complex. It questions the two party system that for whatever reason, we seem to be complicit with, it challenges the ready made hierarchy of race and gender that Black women have historically challenged. Furthermore, it challenges yet another issue that neither Obama, nor Hillary seem to touch adequately-- the equal rights of gays and lesbians.

2. Why do black feminist “publicly” only focus on the privileges of Hillary Clinton’s white supremacist gendered identity and ignore the privileges of Barack Obama’s racialized gendered identity among black people and black womyn?

I need some references here. See answer above.

4. Why aren’t we willing to “publicly” critique how Barack Obama’s candidacy is framed in very heteronormative terms?
One of the main responses I’ve received from Black people when I’ve critiqued Obama’s candidacy is this idea of what Obama’s presidency will mean for “the black family.” And I will paraphrase a comment that was sent to me, “having Obama and his family in the White House will be good for black America because they are such a strong couple and it would be good to have such images for young black people to see.” For many black people, Obama exemplifies the image of a responsible, successful, professional, heterosexual black man who’s married to a strong, successful, and professional black woman who “both” are raising two black girls. This in of itself is not a bad image, however, it becomes problematic when black people consciously or unconsciously juxtapose it against how white society and black people view black families as inherently deviant—no fathers, out of wedlock children, teen mothers, emasculated black men, sexually deviant black womyn, sexually deviant black men, down-low brothers, dead-beat dads—it is something we as black feminist should dialogue about.
Short answer: Yes.

Long answer:

We can also talk about how Hilary's campaign is based in similar heteronormative terms and how neither candidate is willing to ally with gays and lesbians on un-equivocated rights. I think this is something we (Black feminists) have been dialoguing about. Especially those of us who are lesbians and want to adopt, who want to be married to partners, and who wrestle with a homophobic society and community. We also must complicate this issue of heteronormalcy by also being willing to recognize how heteronormalcy is actually a privilege that we as Black folks haven't had in larger society for the reasons outlined in the very question.

To invoke Dubois, blackness is a problem-- thats its very definition. And by that meaning, Black existence is continually discussed as a negative. Image these horrors: the Black family, black eating habits, black sexual habits, black aesthetics, black art, black butts... Consider an example, this line of questioning: Why aren't Black feminists doing ________? I am often skeptical of this consistent approach Black people have in addressing themselves and their community-- no matter the intent.

5 and 7 (they seem to be the same question). Why is it that some black feminist fleetingly mention how misogyny is at play in the competition, but who then will write and email long in-depth critiques in response to second wave white feminist charges against Obama’s candidacy?

Again--who are these Black feminists?

My Black feminist answer I align with Angela Davis: Vote Cynthia McKinney.

Furthermore, Black feminists have in large numbers decidedly backed Hillary... again I don't know whose these Black feminists are that are not having in-depth critiques.

6. Why do we pat ourselves and our colleagues on the back for critiquing second wave white feminist who we know lack an analysis of race? Outside of publicly showing how they lack an intersectional understanding of oppression, how than does it become more constructive? What comes after the critique?

Our profound ass analysis. I've never encountered Black feminist scholarship that did not build upon a deeper understanding of WOC, of Black women of intersectional (shiver) positionalities. That did not expand upon themes such as historical approaches to lived experiences of women (i.e. Barkley Brown's "What Has Happened Here") that introduce entire approaches to theory and analysis (i.e. intersectionality, standpoint) that uncover forgotten territories of research and approach that are helpful to many disciplines (i.e. Bobo's Black Women as Cultural Readers). My book case is what comes before and after the critique.

8. Why aren’t we “publicly” critiquing the racialized gendered sexualized class-based meanings behind the tee shirts, internet slogans, video, and blogs dedicated to Obama Mommas, Obama Girls, and Bro’ (Obama) before Hoe’s (Clinton)?

http://www.cnn.com/video/?/video/politics/2008/01/26/whitfield.black.women.vote.cnn

Lets not also forget the essentialist drama over Obamas "blackness."

Or the fucked up narrative of Black buck and Black man hungry white women.

Let's talk about it all.

9. Why are some feminist of color saying that identity politics is overshadowing the real issues when the issues are definitely colored by the intersection of various social identities?

Who the fuck are these WOC? I'm glad I am not chilling with them.

10. Why is it when we ask these questions people assume we are white women and we are Hillary’s supporter?

Again, my vote: Cynthia McKinney.

My assumption: These are unfair questions that have assertions that don't really have historical footing, that are preemptive in assertions of a collective "Black feminist" consciousness.

uttered by a black girl at 10:30 PM. | 1 comments

. . . . . . The Beauty Battle Royal

Monday, February 11, 2008

A black girl was chilling in contemplative hibernation, reevaluating the content of her blog (and by that I mean, not thinking about it at all) when she opens her email and finds a message from a mindful sister that gave her notice of some crazy ish on the internet that needed some vigilant lip pursing.

Okay out of third person.

This email I received made me aware of an online blog/mag named Jezebel with a centrally white readership that is asking for pictures of embarrassing hairstyles from Black women. (I’m not even going to the not-so-ironic-irony of the name of the magazine.) In light of a past two years of white-supremacist fetishization over Black women’s hair (i.e. Imus, Boortz) you’d think white folks would just pretend they don’t have an issue. Instead, the recent years has merely given permission for frank white-centered discussions about how different, crazy, wild, and wacky Black women look.

I’m actually not offended by the idea itself. We (women across the racial spectrum) all have embarrassing photos of our hair at one point or another—particularly if we’ve lived more than two decades. For example, I have a picture of an ear-to-ear bang via the 80s that is absolutely INSANE and in my teens I rocked a wave-nuveau which was inevitable for me in killer Kali. Sisters can crack up about it as much as I do (especially those who know what I wave nuveau is!). But in the real estate of thought its all about context, context, context. There is a way in which this racialized voyeurism (i.e. white chicks wanting to specifically look upon Black chicks) lends itself to a Beauty Battle Royal of sorts. A spectacle of excessive Blackness through black hair, that also is a reminder to Black women of the unattainability of Eurocentric beauty.

Look but don't look, they say. Don’t desire this thing, this thing is not yours.

The racial context of this contest raises an eyebrow, and rightfully so. I would like to see how this whole thing pans out—how far viewers comments go to dance around their horror, awe, and amazement of the gravitational defiance of Black women’s hair. Lets see how many or how few comments directly drop the p word (I don’t mean pussy.) to describe youthful female blackness. We’ll see if "nappy" even comes up, with arms folded, lips pursed, eyebrows raised.

We’re looking at them, looking at us. Defiantly.

And so the post blackness of my generation allows that much. Allows the chance for the white gaze to do its thing as it will (they will even look at us as we look at them). As we watch, analyze, and understand ourselves in the process. I’d hope we’d heal, as is the call for much of our "take the power back" discussions. Not through this kind of ish, but in spite of it. I cringe when "take the power back" means join them in their jeering and peering. It’s as sad as teased children making fun of themselves in the face of bullies. I’d hope that we’d heal not by joining them, but by putting the burden where it belongs, in the arms of white supremacy. By pointing to the irreverent and insensitive racism. By gazing back. Relentless, unforgiving gazing back. This has certainly been a process for me.

An un named uber leftist white woman with… matted hair tries to make comparisons to my locks and share "hair stories." I simply reply no, and look at her (as to not embarrass her in the professional setting we were in) so as to remind her that her hair is blond, long, and fine, and her eyes are blue. "We" have no shared hair stories this was not MLK’s dream.

I’m with a friend who has been invited to her neighbors’ house. Her neighbors are a white lesbian couple who have recently adopted a black baby boy. They hem and haw around the issue that they don’t know what to do with his hair (acknowledges collective exasperated sigh from sisters everywhere). What they’ve told me is that they wash his hair every day and put tea tree oil in it. They still don’t know why his hair is dry. I give some basic pointers for the sake of the poor kid and hope the books we’ve given, along with the little djembe my friend has given him will give him some smoke signals early on.

(I’ll discuss the unhealthy black hair generation to be raised by "colorblind" gay white folk some other time.)

This is not to say that I cannot talk to white people about hair in general. This can happen (and it has with white folks who know that there are hair differences not only visually, but historically), what cannot happen is a conversation about hair that assumes a similar and parallel history when it comes to my embodiment as a Black woman. I cannot be the one to consistently educate white people on Black hair and the politics of it. Ignorance of some of these basics is merely evidence of white supremacist notions of racial and aesthetic normalcy that results in a "what’s the difference?" "black people are so sensitive" response to Don Imus or Neal Boortz’ comments on Black hair that reveal a deeply historic and psychic fetish about Black hair.

The very moment calls for a direct and serious gaze back. To let folks know that they are looking, and looking as if difference merely belonged to us. To let them know that our sensitivity is rooted in a history that has maintained whiteness as normal and default. That we are gazing back not only to neutralize their gaze, not only to reveal to them their outright racism, but to access our embodied power, to challenge the fetish. To take off our blindfolds in this battle royal.

Labels: black women, blogging, history, nappy headed ho, race, racism