**NOTE: I wrote an entire freaking post and then my crazy computer shut down! As a result, this will be shorter and less eloquent. But I guess you wouldn't even have known that unless I pointed it out. Sigh. Anyways-HP, I WILL be coming after you, soon, you can count on it!! *angry face* **
I'll start this by saying that normally I'm really glad when a person chooses to engage with a difficult issue (in this case race) that most other people shy away from. Good job! However, I really hope that they didn't think they could just blast my/our methods without getting a reply. :)
So, here are a few excerpts from Mal's (I like that nickname, don't you? It's so splendidly gender-neutral) latest reply to my reply to the reply to Kaya:
I'll start this by saying that normally I'm really glad when a person chooses to engage with a difficult issue (in this case race) that most other people shy away from. Good job! However, I really hope that they didn't think they could just blast my/our methods without getting a reply. :)
So, here are a few excerpts from Mal's (I like that nickname, don't you? It's so splendidly gender-neutral) latest reply to my reply to the reply to Kaya:
"Look, I’m angry too. I’m angry that as a white person you can’t see this from my perspective. I’m angry because I don’t think you have the slightest clue of what 95% of white people think when they read your blog post...
Did you stop and think that maybe whites and so-called “model minorities” will look upon your words and go, “Oh god, another angry black person"? Did you stop and think that the vast majority of whites will look upon the content of your blog and use it to reinforce all the damaging and subjugating stereotypes that they have internalized about black people—that many of them are angry, loud, prone to violence and have a stick up their ass?
...I’m angry that every time I try to convince my woefully ignorant white friends that they’re being irrational, insensitive, and just plain dumb, they allude to blogs like this one to affirm why they are right and I am wrong.
It’s time for you two to get over yourselves and really confront this topic, instead of merely continuing to validate your own feelings. I am on your side here, dammit, and this is NOT the way to make headway on this issue."
Okay, so I would normally probably try to make a really long response to this, one that's incredibly well thought out and full of references to different theorists or authors/artists/intellectuals whose words I find particularly stirring, but I think I'll err on the brief side of writing for several reasons: 1) I just got off of work and am tired, 2) I have a final to study for, 3) The Simpsons is on, which I will gladly watch as a means of procrastinating from studying for said final. As a result, I will simply be writing how I felt as I read this most recent comment, as well as the kinds of people it reminded me of. Alrighty, so let's get into it..
The first thing I want to say is that I find it somewhat disturbing that those "damaging and subjugating stereotypes" to which you allude that we (our blog and subsequent way of thinking) promote, fly off of your fingertips with such ease. I will admit that this blog definitely has a theme of anger, but being Prone to violence? Loud? Having a stick up [our] asses? I find it very interesting that you were able to pick these particular stereotypes. Any reference to violence is clearly not serious (and often unrealistic, I don't think you'll see any actual advocation of real, hurtful violence), we cannot be loud because you are reading our text (though I suppose if the entire blog was TYPED LIKE THIS YOU COULD GET SOME SORT OF FEELING OF LOUD, even though that's a bit silly), and having a stick up our asses? Well, I'm sorry if voicing my opinions makes me have a stick up my ass. Wait, no I'm not- what does having a stick up my ass do in terms of validating or invalidating my feelings or my points? Whether or not I present my feelings in a sugary song or in a five-page paper complete with bullet points and bibliography, the facts and experiences that have created those feelings all remain constant.
You are angry that I do not understand how you, as a white person, view my blog and my feelings? Well, I'm sorry, but quite frankly I do not care how you view my feelings, nor do I find any pressing reason to care if I rustle your feathers. As Gaya said in a comment, it is often through disturbance and unsettling methods or messages that change is inspired or, at the very least, can find its roots.
What seems most ridiculous to me is that you claim that I have neither an idea about nor concern for your perspective as a white person in America. I hate to present you with this newflash- but all I have ever done and ever do is consider, reconsider and consider again the perspective of white people. I was educated in public schools based around Western thought, I learned little in the way of Black History (MLK, Rosa Parks and Harriet Tubman were sentences in chapters or footnotes under pictures in my history and Social Studies books) before I arrived at Harvard, as a child I grew up thinking that America was the best place to be and that capitalism was the only possible form of social structure under which humanity could flourish- in short, my entire way of thinking has been molded by a "white perspective," a particularly troublesome mode of existence for a black girl living in these United States.
It has taken most everything in me to try and break away from this. Even so, I still factor the way white people see me, think about me and speak about me into my everyday life. The way I dress, the way I do (or do not do) my hair, the way I speak, the way I carry myself, the food that I eat (as a teenager- and up until this year- I shyed away from the delicious, crisp sweetness of a ripe red watermelon, because I was too afraid to eat it in front of white people and re-create some grotesque mulatto minstrel image for the world to see).. everything that I do is influenced by how I think white people think, so do not dare to tell me that I simply do not try to consider your perspective.
You say that it pains you to have to make attempts to re-educate your "ignorant" white friends, to help them shed the stereotypes which you so readily listed from their way of thinking- to see black people as docile, friendly, non-threatening figures who they should listen to. Perhaps it is more pertinent for you to instead re-consider your friends. Or better yet, perhaps it is even more important for you, yourself, to attempt to see where this anger, this loudness, this unwillingness to compromise or to simply smile and cooperate comes from. As startling as it might seem, I have been upset for most of my conscious life. When I was very young I learned that my skin, that my existence as a brown person (let us not forget that yes, I am biracial and therefore cannot completely understand the struggle of my darker sisters and brothers) was a signifier of my alleged incapacity to be a productive member of society. I held this knowledge deep in my mind, in my heart, and it burdened me. With every step, every breath, every word I uttered my blackness seeped from my pores and consumed my very being. I was suffocating in it. My understanding blanketed me in a deep shame, and this shame made me depressed- I was sad that I was black. As a result, I would often shy away from social issues pertaining to race. Before knowing what it was I denounced affirmative action and I created some irrational aversion to activists (which I am still trying to shed today).
It wasn't until I finally learned something, until I learned that there was nothing wrong with being black, that my people have a rich, beautiful history here in America as well as in all areas where the African diaspora resides.. that I finally began to allow myself to understand that I had just cause for being angry. In embracing this anger, I was able to free myself from the shame, from the sadness that had so strongly embraced me before. In speaking out I unlock my voice and hear the richness of its tones. In raising my fist I feel the warmth of the sun on my skin and I am not ashamed. In opening my eyes I see that my thick, curly hair is a labyrinth of wonder and just as visually stunning as a straight blond coif could ever be. In short my anger is what has helped me to become who I am, and to understand where I lie in regard to my people, and where my people stand in regard to this society.
Who are you to tell me that this anger, that this feeling, is wrong?
I understand and appreciate the fact that you want to help us out. It's wonderful that you, as a white person, see the need to understand our situation, to try and help by educating yourself and your white peers. However, it is also important to understand that a white liberal, when under the impression that their philosophy is best or that they know what is best for black people, can be just as dangerous and damaging as a white conservative.
So while I appreciate where you are coming from, I cannot in good conscience silence myself once more. I will never again be complicit in my own oppression in this way. I hope you can understand. And if you cannot, I do not blame you. After all, I have no idea what it's like to be white in America nor could I ever, for I am not white, just as you are not black.
Though, if I'm honest with myself, I don't mind this all too much.
P.S. I think it's a little aggravating that a person could come to this blog (which is just that, a blog) and try to tell us how to express ourselves. Isn't it a bit problematic that one would assume that Kaya & I must bear the burden of representing every single black person in America when we are just trying to show how we feel as black people?
P.P.S. I guess this was long, after all. Sorry. :\
The first thing I want to say is that I find it somewhat disturbing that those "damaging and subjugating stereotypes" to which you allude that we (our blog and subsequent way of thinking) promote, fly off of your fingertips with such ease. I will admit that this blog definitely has a theme of anger, but being Prone to violence? Loud? Having a stick up [our] asses? I find it very interesting that you were able to pick these particular stereotypes. Any reference to violence is clearly not serious (and often unrealistic, I don't think you'll see any actual advocation of real, hurtful violence), we cannot be loud because you are reading our text (though I suppose if the entire blog was TYPED LIKE THIS YOU COULD GET SOME SORT OF FEELING OF LOUD, even though that's a bit silly), and having a stick up our asses? Well, I'm sorry if voicing my opinions makes me have a stick up my ass. Wait, no I'm not- what does having a stick up my ass do in terms of validating or invalidating my feelings or my points? Whether or not I present my feelings in a sugary song or in a five-page paper complete with bullet points and bibliography, the facts and experiences that have created those feelings all remain constant.
You are angry that I do not understand how you, as a white person, view my blog and my feelings? Well, I'm sorry, but quite frankly I do not care how you view my feelings, nor do I find any pressing reason to care if I rustle your feathers. As Gaya said in a comment, it is often through disturbance and unsettling methods or messages that change is inspired or, at the very least, can find its roots.
What seems most ridiculous to me is that you claim that I have neither an idea about nor concern for your perspective as a white person in America. I hate to present you with this newflash- but all I have ever done and ever do is consider, reconsider and consider again the perspective of white people. I was educated in public schools based around Western thought, I learned little in the way of Black History (MLK, Rosa Parks and Harriet Tubman were sentences in chapters or footnotes under pictures in my history and Social Studies books) before I arrived at Harvard, as a child I grew up thinking that America was the best place to be and that capitalism was the only possible form of social structure under which humanity could flourish- in short, my entire way of thinking has been molded by a "white perspective," a particularly troublesome mode of existence for a black girl living in these United States.
It has taken most everything in me to try and break away from this. Even so, I still factor the way white people see me, think about me and speak about me into my everyday life. The way I dress, the way I do (or do not do) my hair, the way I speak, the way I carry myself, the food that I eat (as a teenager- and up until this year- I shyed away from the delicious, crisp sweetness of a ripe red watermelon, because I was too afraid to eat it in front of white people and re-create some grotesque mulatto minstrel image for the world to see).. everything that I do is influenced by how I think white people think, so do not dare to tell me that I simply do not try to consider your perspective.
You say that it pains you to have to make attempts to re-educate your "ignorant" white friends, to help them shed the stereotypes which you so readily listed from their way of thinking- to see black people as docile, friendly, non-threatening figures who they should listen to. Perhaps it is more pertinent for you to instead re-consider your friends. Or better yet, perhaps it is even more important for you, yourself, to attempt to see where this anger, this loudness, this unwillingness to compromise or to simply smile and cooperate comes from. As startling as it might seem, I have been upset for most of my conscious life. When I was very young I learned that my skin, that my existence as a brown person (let us not forget that yes, I am biracial and therefore cannot completely understand the struggle of my darker sisters and brothers) was a signifier of my alleged incapacity to be a productive member of society. I held this knowledge deep in my mind, in my heart, and it burdened me. With every step, every breath, every word I uttered my blackness seeped from my pores and consumed my very being. I was suffocating in it. My understanding blanketed me in a deep shame, and this shame made me depressed- I was sad that I was black. As a result, I would often shy away from social issues pertaining to race. Before knowing what it was I denounced affirmative action and I created some irrational aversion to activists (which I am still trying to shed today).
It wasn't until I finally learned something, until I learned that there was nothing wrong with being black, that my people have a rich, beautiful history here in America as well as in all areas where the African diaspora resides.. that I finally began to allow myself to understand that I had just cause for being angry. In embracing this anger, I was able to free myself from the shame, from the sadness that had so strongly embraced me before. In speaking out I unlock my voice and hear the richness of its tones. In raising my fist I feel the warmth of the sun on my skin and I am not ashamed. In opening my eyes I see that my thick, curly hair is a labyrinth of wonder and just as visually stunning as a straight blond coif could ever be. In short my anger is what has helped me to become who I am, and to understand where I lie in regard to my people, and where my people stand in regard to this society.
Who are you to tell me that this anger, that this feeling, is wrong?
I understand and appreciate the fact that you want to help us out. It's wonderful that you, as a white person, see the need to understand our situation, to try and help by educating yourself and your white peers. However, it is also important to understand that a white liberal, when under the impression that their philosophy is best or that they know what is best for black people, can be just as dangerous and damaging as a white conservative.
So while I appreciate where you are coming from, I cannot in good conscience silence myself once more. I will never again be complicit in my own oppression in this way. I hope you can understand. And if you cannot, I do not blame you. After all, I have no idea what it's like to be white in America nor could I ever, for I am not white, just as you are not black.
Though, if I'm honest with myself, I don't mind this all too much.
P.S. I think it's a little aggravating that a person could come to this blog (which is just that, a blog) and try to tell us how to express ourselves. Isn't it a bit problematic that one would assume that Kaya & I must bear the burden of representing every single black person in America when we are just trying to show how we feel as black people?
P.P.S. I guess this was long, after all. Sorry. :\
