black, unarmed, and dangerous

I know you’ve heard the story of Mike Brown, the teenager who was shot by a police officer in Ferguson, MO. He was unarmed. So were Eric Garner, Oscar Grant, Wendell Allen, and others, along with Renisha McBride, Rekia Boyd, Shantel Davis, and others. All of these names are heavy with the weight of the events surrounding their last moments on this earth. These names resonate deeply with me and leave with me a paralyzing sadness, fear, and rage. Not necessarily because of police brutality or because of militant citizens “standing their ground”, but because of my black skin. When I, my brothers, and my sisters go out into the world, we are dangerous. It doesn’t matter if we wear hoodies or business suits. It doesn’t matter if we speak proper English or slang. It doesn’t matter if we are drunk or sober. It doesn’t matter if we’ve committed a crime or prevented one. We still have black skin, and we are dangerous.

I know that some will disagree. Some will not see value in my words. Some will not be able to relate to this discussion because they have not had experiences with anti-black racism and they never will. They will never know the feeling of being hyper-visible beneath the gaze of law enforcement, store clerks, security guards, or home owners in nice white neighborhoods, and know undeniably that it is because of the color of your skin. They will never know what it is like to be hated and feared for simply existing in your black body in a public space. See, the public space is a white space. We invade whiteness and we need to be stopped. Our invasion of the white space is an assault on whiteness; it violates the concept of what whiteness is and the belief that no one else should have access to it, especially not the black body.

The black body is a hyper-sexual beast. Black men defile and offend pure white women. Emmett Till learned his lesson at fourteen. Black female slaves were sexual savages. They stole their faithful white owners away from their white mistresses, seducing their rapists with their exotic black sexuality. Patsey faced the consequences for enticing Edwin Epps away from his wife.

The black body is a hyper-aggressive thug. Richard Sherman exemplifies the thuggish demeanor when he dominates on the field and when he declares his greatness in interviews. It’s no question that Trayvon Martin was a thug who deserved to get shot. The world is better without him. Even President Obama is a thug and a threat to U.S. freedoms. A black man does not belong in the White House.

The black body is predatory. Lock your doors if you ever find yourself in a black neighborhood, or, better yet, download a helpful navigation app so that you never find yourself in a poor black neighborhood to begin with. Walk on the other side of the street if you see one of us coming towards you. Scoot to the back corner of the elevator so that you can keep your eye on us. Clutch your purse tight so we don’t steal it.

The black body is a thief and liar. It invades and pilfers whiteness. Robert Brown and Trayon Christian were both arrested in expensive stores where they did not belong, purchasing items that they were not supposed to have. Dishonest and dangerous black men cannot afford designer belts or designer sunglasses. His only recourse is to steal them. Receipt in hand is not enough to convince the police that he is not stealing merchandise. He is not a credible source to relay information about his own life. He cannot be trusted.

The black body is criminal. It needs to be punished, expelled, and incarcerated at much higher rates than others in order to protect the nation state. Black children are sources of conflict and tension in the classroom when performing the same actions as other students, who are creative and imaginative. They take their rightful places in detention centers while their classmates remain in school to complete their education. Capitalism thrives on black non-violent offenders disproportionately filling the cells of privately owned prisons. They used to sell black bodies. Now, they cell black bodies. They fill the cells to fill their pockets.

The black body is rebellious. Black slaves revolted against their benevolent masters. Nat Turner revolted. Malcolm X revolted. There is a chance that we will all revolt against our benevolent nation state. We must be contained. Peaceful protests must be stopped with dogs, tear gas, and bullets. We are a threat and we must be contained.

Black bodies are dangerous because they are black bodies. This, unfortunately, is how many people view the world. And so, in the wake of the recent shootings of Ezell Ford, Armand Bennett, John Crawford, and Mike Brown, all too familiar stories, I am saddened, I am fearful, and I am enraged. To many, my black skin is a weapon. It is dangerous. They will say that they feared for their lives and they will shoot me down because of it.

i lost my religion

on sunday evening, i took a long drive with my mother, who is an avid back seat driver and a compulsive talker. it was nearly three hours of her going over what she plans to do with all of her flowers and trees this fall, complaining that people charge too much for watermelon in the stores, bragging about some pants that she had found on sale, begging me to pull the car over so that she could take pictures of the moon, and criticizing my driving technique. all the while, i listened, only responding with simple yeses, nos, and okays, and humming along with my new Sam Smith, Adele, and John Legend mix in between (possibly the greatest idea that i have ever had. genius, really). this is all pretty standard stuff with my mother and i. she does most of the talking. i do most of the listening. we don't really have conversations, but, in a bizarre twist of events, we actually had a conversation this sunday evening when she began interrogating me about my religious (dis)beliefs.

it all started when she commented on how great the service was that morning when she attended my sister's church. i said, "okay", and she went on and on about the pastors' wedding anniversary and the celebration that the congregation had thrown, but then she asked me why i didn't go to church with my sister on sunday mornings. i replied simply, "because i don't want to. church makes me uncomfortable." my mother, as she often does, heard something completely different from what i had actually said. she gasped and exclaimed, "the word of God makes you uncomfortable?!", clearly offended by what she thought she had heard. i promptly explained that this is not what i had said. church makes me uncomfortable.

i am an INTJ personality. i am introverted and i am shy, though no one ever believes me when i say this. well, it doesn't matter whether or not other people believe it. the fact still remains that i am a quiet and reserved person who prefers to be alone and will always, always, always choose isolation to social interaction. being around other people actually physically, mentally, emotionally, and even spiritually drains me. i absolutely need time with myself in order to recharge in between the socializing that is necessary for my life: work, school, friends, and family. i need time with myself for my mental health, spiritual peace, and emotional balance. i need time with myself to develop and maintain a positive relationship with my body. i need time with myself to feed my intellectual drive to absorb all of the knowledge that is available to me. this does not mean that i do not love and enjoy the people that are in my life. i need time with them, too. i need my coworkers, classmates, and professors. we laugh together and we learn together. my family and friends give me support and i support them as well. we all keep each other motivated and i appreciate it so much, because i know that my life would not be nearly as fun or interesting without them.

the thing about church is, it feels especially taxing to me. it feels like a chore. growing up, my mother made us go to church, often several times a week, and it became something that i had to do, rather than something that i wanted to do. even when i grew into a woman and went off to college, i continued to go. not because i wanted to do, but because i felt like i had to. i felt obligated, like someone was taking attendance. and the sad fact was that some people actually were taking attendance. if i missed a service or two because i was traveling, or if i skipped an evening bible study because i had to prepare for a test or write a paper, i got the side eye from some and the inquisition from others. people asked me if i was "backsliding" and if i needed to pray about it. when i didn't budge from my seat during the alter call (every. single. sunday), some people would stare at me as if i was out of place. like they just knew that my soul had been set ablaze. i met some of the same people 5+ times and they could never seem to remember my name or the fact that we had already been introduced on several occasions, despite the fact that i knew their name and we were connected on social media. and throughout all of this, i had to fake smile and hug strangers. and when i say that i "had" to do it, i mean that if i didn't fake smile and hug strangers, then people would constantly ask me what was wrong with me and offer to pray over my resting b*tch face. i would leave a place of worship that was supposed to bring me joy feeling anxiety-ridden, and i would have to trek back to my unairconditioned dorm room to spend hours decompressing in order to mentally prepare for my school/work week, and then i would return the next sunday for another unhealthy dose of anxiety and discomfort. i endured this for almost three years before i decided that i just couldn't take it anymore, and once i stopped going, i felt free.

in case you don't know anything about introverted and shy individuals, let me tell you, everything that i describe in the above paragraph is complete and utter torture for me. especially fake smiling and hugging strangers. i shouldn't have to change my facial expression for you, and i dislike it when people invade my personal space. i simply don't like being touched and i honestly don't like being looked at sometimes. all of this is what makes the introverted me uncomfortable, but what makes the feminist me uncomfortable is the hypocrisy, immorality, sexism/misogyny, homophobia, and general intolerance that seems to be present in Christianity and churches. in anticipation of the "not all Christians" and "not all churches" arguments, i will go ahead and say, yes, i know. not all Christians and churches fit this description (and, yes, i tried several churches). i don't doubt that they exist. in fact, i sincerely hope that they exist.

see, the feminist me can't abide those who interpret the bible in strategic ways in order to cater to their personal beliefs and desires. i can't abide Christians insisting that Jesus of Nazareth was a white American or European man, denying his true racial identity to reinforce the value of whiteness. i can't support an institution that actively teaches that infringing upon the basic rights of others is a moral duty. i'm fed up with those who call up "prayer warriors" to combat homosexuality because they think that what other people do with their bodies in their private lives is icky, but stay silent on the atrocities and violences that plague our world, leaving millions of people starving, abused, homeless, imprisoned, enslaved, institutionalized, exploited and/or dead. you picket at funerals and abortion clinics, but are speaking out against police brutality, domestic abuse, rape being used as a tool of control, systemic oppressions, chronic poverty, child marriages/slavery, or human trafficking? 

i can't sit through services where the church leaders scream hateful, judgmental "sermons" at their congregation. i won't embrace a religion that tells me that i am not as important as a male bodied person. i won't give my money to mega churches with pastors who insist that if the working church members simply give more tithes and offering then they can be rich, too, despite the fact that their bible says that it is highly unlikely that a rich man will ever enter the gates of heaven (Mark 10:25, Matthew 19:24). if you ask for more and more money every sunday, but you drive a Mercedes and half of your congregation can barely afford gas and groceries, that's a problem. if you cite Leviticus as the basis for your homophobic argument against marriage equality, but you ignore the verses that condemn some of the things that you do on a regular basis - trimming your beard (19:27), eating shellfish (11:10), and mistreating foreigners/immigrants (19:33-34), etc. - that's a problem. if you tell the women in your church that they can't have leadership positions or speak publicly or wear pants simply because they are women, that's a problem. stop teaching girls and women that displaying power, control, and agency is only for men and boys. stop teaching them that their value as a person is directly tied to their sexual purity. stop telling me that my hunger for knowledge outside of Christianity is sinful. above all, stop demonizing other religions just because you don't believe in them or recognize their value. especially if you've never actually read any of their texts or even bothered to learn about what they truly believe in.

my mother asked me several questions: am i an Atheist, do i believe in Jesus or God, do i read the bible? i told her that i don't read the bible as a literal story, but rather as a cultural and historical text from which we can learn moral lessons. i acknowledge that the bible was written over the course of 1500 years and has over 40 authors, and that our standard bible also does not include all of its original material. i recognize that it has inconsistencies, because most of it is based on eye witness accounts and were written several years after the events are said to have happened. example: there are, in fact, two sets of Ten Commandments. i keep all of these things in mind when reading the bible, especially because there are many different interpretations of the bible and everyone thinks that their interpretation is the right one. also, i explained to her that Atheism is not the antithesis of Christianity, because there are many religions and they do not exist in binaries, but what confused her the most, and perhaps even caused a little cognitive dissonance, were my answers about Jesus and God.

here's the thing: i love Jesus. i'm a huge fan. i wish that there were more people like him. some people tend to forget (or overlook) that he was political, provocative, progressive, and a homeless nomad. the man was an activist. he promoted love above all things, especially loving those who were cast out by society; the poor, the sick, the marginalized. all of these things are hallmarks of feminism, and as a self-identified feminist, i find that i am able to identify with Jesus more and more through feminism and feminist activism.  his legacy is one that should be upheld, especially among those of us who take up the painstaking work of advocating for social justice. Jesus’ message, calling us to use love as the weapon to combat insidious forces and violence in the world, is the most significant part of the bible to me, and i think that it is a message which often gets overlooked and misinterpreted to serve certain interests, political and otherwise. he aspired to a new world, using activism that went beyond words by actively seeking out and embracing the marginalized (as well as the oppressors), showing them unconditional love. in his time, he was unconventional; a man of revolutionary ideas and hungry for change. he led a rebellion to overturn the old order and give visibility and agency to the poor citizens. i find that there have been countless moments in my life when others have attempted to silence me for my ideas and beliefs which some might consider radical, the most fundamental of which is that all bodies and identities have the right to exist free from oppression, abuse, and exploitation. love was Jesus’ only weapon (except for that one time he went freaking berserk and flipped over all the tables in that temple, Matthew 21:12), and it is also mine. Jesus didn't teach Christianity. Jesus taught love.

as for God? well, as i reiterated to my mother several times, i am not saying that God does not exist. i have no authority to say that. however, as a critical thinker, my thought process about God differs from the way that i was taught to think about God in church. maybe our human concept of God is wrong. maybe God doesn't resemble the image that we have created in our imaginations. maybe God is a genderless being, or maybe not a being at all. maybe God is an entity or force which manifests itself in the beauty that we see all around us and the beauty inside of us. maybe God is a presence so immense and unfathomable; an idea so intricate that we cannot even begin to comprehend it's enormity or significance. maybe God and the universe are one in the same, and we are indeed made in its image. we see ourselves in the way that our brain cells resemble the cosmic web, and in the way that the death of a star resembles the birth of a cell, and in the way that some nebulae (star nurseries) amazingly resemble the human eye. 

for me, God is in the stars. we are made up of star dust, after all. we even share DNA with many other species on our pale blue dot. we are all literally connected in this wonderful way. pondering on this simple, but poignant truth ignites in me a deeper and more moving spiritual experience than i have ever had inside of a church. it's an experience which drives me to activism and social justice. it strengthens my commitment to feminism and feminist work. and it is an experience which i will not abandon in order to appease the people around me, even those whom i deeply love.

my mother, and many others, take issue with the fact that i won't claim Christianity. people are actually hurt and offended by this; by the fact that i won't embrace the label. the truth is that there are aspects about Christianity which i embrace. there are also tenets from Buddhism, Islam, Judaism, Hinduism, and others with which i identify. all of these teach lessons in compassion, integrity, generosity, understanding, peace, simplicity, connectivity, and many other positive doctrines by which i live my happy life. 

my position is that i shouldn't have to choose just one. i shouldn't have to put a label on my spirituality in order to make people around me feel better. if you are uncomfortable with my spiritual ambiguity, then i invite you to examine why that is. why are you so invested in the titles that i may or may not place on myself? what it comes down to is this: our society is obsessed with categorization, and when you don't know which category to place me in, it bothers you. maybe it even scares you. regardless, it is an issue that you have to work out with yourself, not an issue that i have to resolve for you.

"black girl booty": supply and demand

here, you'll find an open letter penned to Nicki Minaj by Chuck Creekmur, owner of AllHipHop.com. in the letter, he expresses his concern for the influence that Nicki's "Anaconda" album art might have on his daughter. He dictates his fatherly concerns by calling Nicki's image "ratchet sh*t" and saying that he wasn't "shocked" by her album art, but, rather, "disappointed" in the image of her "booty in a thong."

he then goes on to say: "As a man, I can appreciate the virtues of your perfect posterior. The dad guy is not a happy camper, particularly now that his lil' girl is transitioning into a young lady. . . I'm trying to raise a young girl that will eventually grow into someone greater than the both of us. I know that this requires great parenting, great education, great luck and an assortment of great influences . . . As she gets older, it will be harder for me to limit her exposure to you, especially if you continue to do headline-grabbing moves like the 'Anaconda' cover. I don't want to EVER see her posted up one day emulating you . . . Believe it or not, I care. I think you are dope. You've bodied some of my favorite artists on songs like "Monster." Yet the possibility of you transcending this gnaws at me, because I know you don't have to succumb to bottom feeding . . . I [removed a previous photo from the website as requested] based on what I think is a glimpse of what you really desire, which is to be a more positive role model of some sort for young girls who are under siege out in these streets. Now, you take this squatting position on the cover of a song called “Anaconda,” which I am sure the radio will play until its played out. I’ll be on Spotify though and so will my daughter when she’s with me . . . P.S. You think you could follow me on Twitter again?"

well, this is my response to him. though, i doubt he'll ever read it:

dear Mr. Creekmur,

let's get right to it. you're obviously concerned with the impact that Nicki's image will have on your daughter, but you don't seem very concerned with the general sexism, misogyny, colorism, classism, homophobia, transphobia, etc. that is present in the rap/hip-hop genre and what impact they might have on your daughter. i wonder if you've ever written any letters to some of your "favorite artists" that accompany Nicki on the "Monster" track that you seem to admire. where is your letter to Rick Ross condemning his description of/chuckling at date rape in "U.O.E.N.O."? what about your letters confronting some of your "favorites" in the music industry for their insistence on referring to women as bitches and hoes? how about writing some letters about the violent ways that sex gets talked about, i.e. "beat the pussy up" and "tear your ass in two"? have you written any open letters to Lil Wayne about his glorification of "long haired thick redbone[s]" and his apparent disdain for darker skinned black women, or the way that he and many others seem to desire women with a "black girl booty", but whose bodies otherwise align with white/Euro-centric standards of beauty (naturally or artificially)? yes, girls and women are indeed "under siege" out here. how do you think all of these things will affect your daughter, her self-image, her relationship with her body, her vision of/experience with men, her perspective on sex and relationships later in life? 

if you're wondering why Nicki Minaj poses for photos like this...

or why Rihanna and Beyonce' and others do this...

allow me to enlighten you. it's because the industry asks for it. demands it. it's because women who capitalize on their sexuality usually rise to fame quickly and gain visibility, while women who do not often fade into obscurity despite their talent. this isn't to say that these women don't have agency in choosing these poses. Beyonce’ has created a brand and a business, reaching a level of creative control and economic power that few women have, but it is difficult to ignore that she is in fact “playing the game”, often using her body and her sexuality as a selling point in an industry that is dominated by men. She has just as much selling power with men who fantasize about her as she does with women who adore her. Beyonce’ is undoubtedly one of the best entertainers of our time. She has undeniable musical talent which speaks for itself. She could, in fact, forego the overt sexual nature of her performances and music videos. She could abandon the leotards and high heels and long, flowing blond tresses (her natural light skin and European-like features are certainly something else to be discussed) and she would still be recognized as talented, but in an industry that so highly values sexual appeal, it is unlikely that she would have reached the level of stardom at which she now stands if she had not marketed herself as a sexy goddess. The wonderful thing about feminism is that it grants women (and everyone else) the opportunity to make these kinds of choices. She chooses to use her sex appeal, and that is her right, as it is the right of Nicki Minaj, Rihanna, and all other women.

i'm sure you've noticed that the most popular (and least popular) rappers and hip-hop artists write songs that glorify "the booty". Big Sean blew us away with the artfully crafted "Dance (A$$)" with ingenious lyrics like "i'm wondering if cupid gave you ass shots/ 'cause i'm in love with that ass" and "shake that ass, shake that ass, shake that ass/ shake that ass, shake that ass, shake that ass." 

Jason Derulo let us know how he feels about the booty with his unforgettable masterpiece, "Wiggle", in a collaboration with Snoop (Dogg? Lion?). "i got one question/how do you fit all that into them jeans?/you know what to do with that big fat butt/wiggle, wiggle, wiggle/ wiggle, wiggle, wiggle." 

i know you remember Bubba Sparxxx's "Miss New Booty", in which he and the Ying Yang Twins delivered the timeless refrain, "booty, booty, booty, booty rockin' everywhere/booty, booty, booty, booty rockin' everywhere/booty, booty, booty, booty rockin' everywhere."

back in '89, LL Cool J cited the booty as the reason for his infidelity in "Big Ole' Butt": "Brenda got a big ole butt/i know i told you i'd be true/ but Brenda got a big ole butt/so i'm leaving you." 

but rap and hip-hop artists aren't the only ones:

Spinal Tap "Big Bottom" (1984)

Trace Adkins "Honky Tonk Badonkadonk" (2005)

Queen "Fat Bottomed Girls" (1978)

KC & the Sunshine Band "(Shake, Shake, Shake) Shake Your Booty" (1976)

Every country song about a booty in "painted on jeans" (since forever)

our culture is obsessed with the booty. we love the booty. it's why nearly every woman on an action movie poster is in that awkward half-turn pose. it's why booty pictures are flooding Instagram every day. it's why all the fitspo Tumblrs preach squat, squat, squat to get a nice, round bottom. it's why Moguldom Studios is releasing the (much needed) docutainment film Bottoms Up investigating our preoccupation with the booty and the lengths to which women will go in order to obtain the coveted apple bottom. 

so, when Nicki Minaj strikes a pose that accentuates and celebrates her "big ole booty", she is supplying what society has demanded from her, but she is also exercising her agency and taking ownership of her body. if you feel that it's necessary to write letters to public figures about the impact that they might have on their (young) audience, then by all means, do that. however, you should also consider a letter writing campaign critiquing the culture that fosters the behavior that you find so distasteful. otherwise, you just come off looking like one more person in a long line of people trying to police (black) women's booties with their sexist/misogynistic/racialized ideas about sexual expression and the politics of respectability, and based on what you "think [they] really desire" to be. 

P.S. feel free to follow me on twitter, i guess.

A Response to "Maleficent Unpacked: A Black Feminist Review"

earlier this week, Judith Jones at Crunk Feminist Collective published a review of Disney's Maleficent (2014) in which she analyzes the film through a Black Feminist lens. in it, Jones dictates several concerns that she has with the film, chief of those concerns being that, in her opinion, it "contributes to rape culture".

i'm sure you know the story of Sleeping Beauty (1959). a king and queen have a baby girl named Aurora, and an evil fairy named Maleficent curses her: "before the sun sets on her sixteenth birthday, she will prick her finger on the spindle of a spinning wheel and fall into a sleep like death" and she can only be awakened by "true love's kiss." the prophesy comes to pass, Maleficent is killed by Prince Phillip, and Aurora is awakened by his kiss.

note: if you have not seen the Maleficent and have plans to do so, i suggest that you delay reading this post until after viewing the film. there are spoilers beyond this point.

this film tells Maleficent's side of the story: her curse on Aurora serves as revenge against King Stefan. in an interview with BBC Radio's Women's Hour, Angelina Jolie confirmed that the scene in which Maleficent's wings are stolen is a "metaphor for rape" after much speculation from fans. in the aforementioned scene, Maleficent shares a drink with Stefan, whom she trusts and has been in a romantic relationship with since their teenage years. after drinking from the bottle which he has given her, she quickly falls into a deep sleep, resting her head on his shoulder. Stefan contemplates killing her, but finds himself unable to perform the act of murder. instead, he slices off her wings (off screen). when Maleficent awakens, she discovers that her body has been violated and releases a long, deafening cry as she mourns the loss of her wings.

afterwards, she suffers in silence and isolation. she shuts others out and does not speak of the attack to anyone, sinking into a depression that is reflected in the world around her. she becomes critical and cautious of relationships, romantic and otherwise, which is a logical reaction to being betrayed by someone whom you trusted and loved. her sadness soon becomes fury. she does not take the assault lightly and she does not accept the status of a shameful victim. the film acknowledges that Maleficent was wronged and that she is rightfully angry. Stefan becomes king after presenting her wings to his predecessor as proof of his worth, but the film does not let Stefan prosper on his ill-gotten throne. he spends sixteen years obsessed with Maleficent after she curses Aurora, struggling with paranoia and madness in isolation, and talking to Maleficent's amputated wings which he has kept as trophies. he is the true villain of the story and ultimately meets his well-deserved end when he is dropped from the air by Maleficent and falls to his death.

this is not a perpetuation or glorification of rape culture. rape culture apologizes for rapists, blames victims, and promotes the idea that rape is just a part of our existence as living, sexual beings (because of evolution, or a gift from god, or whatever) and should be accepted and ignored. this film does none of those things.

what the film does seem to do is indict rapists and the evils of patriarchy. it is Stefan's greed and desire for power, as well as ownership of the princess, that drives him to steal Maleficent's wings (the dying kings says, "i would choose a successor to take the throne and care for my daughter. who among you is worthy? kill the winged creature. avenge me, and, upon my death, you will take the crown."). the film is critical of that fact, rather than reinforcing a patriarchal structure like most Disney films.

in her piece, Jones writes: "Disney used the imagery of a broken, mutilated female body, in which her greatest strength was taken from her out of fear and greed in order to break her. Unfortunately, this image of the mutilated female form is often exploited throughout film as a humanizer and way of depicting vulnerability."

here, she seems to equate Maleficent's wings with her power. with its connections to rape which have already been established, she is also making the assumption that rape inherently strips women of whatever powerful virtues they may possess. i think that this is an incorrect assumption, as it suggests that power and strength is merely physical. Maleficent's power comes from her resilience which is evident throughout the film, before and after her wings are stolen. it is clear that her wings are not her only source of strength, for she continues to maintain her emotional, spiritual, and mental fortitude even without them. she continues to be the most powerful of all the creatures in her land and she protects them from the tyranny of King Stefan. also, we see the mutilated scars on her back only twice in the film, and they are not overtly displayed. i would not say that they are "often exploited" at all. nor do they "humanize" her. technically, she is a fairy, not a human at all, but Maleficent shows her compassion and her capacity for identifying with all forms of life at an early age. this is evidenced by the fact that she befriends Stefan when they are children, even after he tries to steal a precious jewel from her magical land.

Jones also questions whether the films can actually be considered feminist, whether female characters must be victimized in order to find redemption, and what Aurora's ultimate role is in the film: "My counter to the feminist argument would be, do women have to be broken (in film) in order to be reborn and viewed as good?  Her wings were a source of power and strength and they are taken early on in the movie. And as a result she is left alone and to an extent othered by her community. Her “dirty” body is then paired with darkness and she is perceived as evil and witchy. This often happens to women of color in films. She is then positioned next to a blonde, blue eyed, pure “pretty” girl making Maleficent’s ways more apparent. The image of darkness juxtaposed with light has always had light as the saving grace, as if the image of darkness (in this case, Maleficent) could not save itself. In a variety of movies and shows a white character is the savior to the women of color and the voice of reason, while the person of color adds excitement and spice to the white character persons content life. This white “savior complex” reinforces racist ideals of women of color lacking ability to run their own life and as a result need the guidance of a white woman. Sleeping Beauty is Maleficent’s white savior. She is only redeemed by loving this innocent blonde girl."

A) this assumes binaries of good and evil, and broken and whole, and draws natural connections between them. Maleficent is not broken and she is not evil. she retaliates against patriarchal violence and she succeeds in the end. B) Aurora is initially used as a tool in her scheme, but Maleficent eventually understands that she has been "lost in hatred and revenge" after she grows to love the girl. in addition, Maleficent watches Aurora closely as she grows from an infant into a young woman, and in fact provides for her and protects her anonymously until they finally meet in the forest. Aurora is not her "white savior", as Jones argues, nor is she her "voice of reason". Maleficent is her own voice of reason. this is because Maleficent is a complex character with morals, a conscience, and an appreciation for all living things, virtues which she displays from the very beginning of the film. the "white savior complex" does exist, of course, when people of color are saved by a white character who is unexpectedly introduced into the culture and takes pity upon them and their struggle with poverty, invisibility, or other forms of racialized oppression in a white dominated society. see: The Help (2011), Freedom Writers (2007), Hardball (2001), and Avatar (2009) - which is essentially Dances With Wolves (1990) with blue Native Americans and set in the future with amazingly beautiful CGI (we see you, James Cameron). none of this is the case in this movie. most obviously because Maleficent is also a white woman. C) in Jones' argument, Maleficent is equated with a woman of color because she wears dark colors. again, i think that this assumption is wrong and problematic. in fact, i would argue that the film challenges the cultural association with darkness and evil because Maleficent wears dark colors throughout the entirety of the film (as does Batman, by the way) and she is an ultimately good character. 

Jones does write that the film is "feministy" because it passes the Bechdel Test: two (named) female characters speak to each other about something other than men. this is true, but the film goes beyond that and is a huge improvement upon the original Sleeping Beauty, in which Aurora is a completely passive character and Maleficent has no legitimate motivation for casting a spell on a baby. this is actually one of the best Disney films in terms of female character development (aside from Aurora's mother, who is conveniently removed from the plot by a mysterious illness. she exists only as a prize for Stefan and a womb to bring forth Aurora. she literally only has three lines and 30 seconds of screen time near the beginning before she disappears for the rest of the film). while Maleficent's trauma is used as a plot point, it does not define her. she experiences a trauma which is a logical catalyst for her becoming an antihero, she is not defeated or saved by a male character, and she develops a meaningful friendship with another female character. Aurora is initially constructed as the perfect female subject, as the pixies bestow upon her the gifts of beauty, grace, and perpetual happiness when she is an infant, but she is also an adventurous girl with a healthy imagination and curiosity. when she learns of her true royal heritage from her pixie guardians, she journeys to the castle on her own to meet her father. when she succumbs to the curse and falls into a "sleep like death", it is the kiss of Maleficent which revives her, rather than the kiss of a young man whom she had only met once before (Disney has also used this premise of friendship between women as "true love" in Brave (2012) and Frozen (2013). finally!). furthermore, when Maleficent is captured by the king, even though her male servant is present and in the form of a fire-breathing dragon, it is Aurora who saves her by freeing her wings from their encasement so that they may return to their rightful place. the film ends with Aurora being crowned as the queen by Maleficent, uniting their two kingdoms. thus, it is the "true love" of friendship which ultimately saves them both. all things considered, Maleficent seems down right feminist to me, and certainly does not perpetuate rape culture. 

and, besides, Angelina Jolie is perfect.

Dear White People, a viewing guide (sort of)

as we are anticipating the theatrical release of Dear White People, i thought that it would be nice to have some things fresh in our minds about the issues that will most likely be explored the film. so, here is my own little open letter filled with things that i've been wanting to say for while now. hopefully, it will be obvious that i am not addressing all white people or every person who identifies as white. this is based on my personal experience of discussing race/racism with people who are unable to (or refuse to) grasp certain concepts, and those people happened to be white. so...

dear white people (or, to whom it may concern),

let's have an honest discussion about racism. yes, i know, it seems like we talk about racism all the time, but are you really listening? it feels like you're not really trying to understand. it seems like you're holding on very tightly to those same ideas and beliefs that you've had for a long time now, and that's the reason that we keep ending up back here, having this same conversation about how it feels when you ignore me, silence me, stereotype me. i keep trying to tell you that there is this thing called institutional racism. i give you examples of racial microaggressions which i have personally experienced. i speak the names of the unarmed black men who have been gunned down by law enforcement or civilians for simply existing in their black bodies in public spaces and because they "looked/seemed" suspicious or dangerous. i quote the numbers on the (pre)school to prison pipeline, the prison industrial complex, and the insidious ways in which capitalism works to ensure racial/class disparities. i provide you with an abundance of evidence, and still you refuse to acknowledge that these things and my experiences are valid because "not all white people" are racist, or because your other black friend/acquaintance had a different version of the same story, or because rap music is violent, or because you spent three months building a school in Africa. 

listen, none of these responses are valid or well-constructed arguments to contradict what i've presented to you. so, you can stop using those now. do not tell me that racism no longer exists because Oprah is rich, Barack Obama is a two-term U.S. president, and white people like Beyonce', too. do not tell me to just accept the fact that racism will always exist in our world. accepting an institution as being all-powerful and inescapable discourages any critical thinking and social progress. do not tell me not to take racism personally. racism is personal. do not tell me that you "don't see color" or that "there's only one race and it's the human race". none of these things are productive. please, do me the favor of listening to me for a moment and actually trying to understand my words as i dictate a few of my concerns here:

we should go ahead and get the "n-word" part of this discussion out of the way now, even though we've talked about it so many times before. no, you may not say the n-word. yes, it is because you are white. no, it is not "unfair" or "racist" that you are not allowed to say it, though white privilege might have you believe that something is being taken away from you because others have the right to something that you do not. you should understand that the history that is attached to that word is a painful one. it is true that some black people may choose to include it in their vocabulary as slang or as an attempt to reclaim the word from its racist underpinnings and re-operationalize it as a term of endearment or otherwise. you may encounter the word frequently in music and movies. you may see it on crude t-shirts. you may even hear it in your presence among a group of friends or acquaintances. in none of these scenarios is it acceptable for you to say "nigger" or "nigga(h)", even as a joke or as a song lyric. in the same way that you should never call an Asian person a "chink" or a Mexican person a "wetback", you should never utter a racial slur for black people around black people. that's just good manners.

no, you are not being oppressed or personally attacked when someone calls you out on your privilege. white privilege does exist and it does not mean that all white people are racist. it simply means that, historically, white people have benefited socially, economically, and otherwise through the colonization, imperialistic rule, enslavement, oppression, etc. of people of other races, and those benefits continue today, even if they are not as apparent to you as they are to people who are sometimes negatively affected by it. whiteness is what we are critical of. not white people. 

you see, identities (racial and otherwise) do not pre-exist social institutions. rather, these categories are socially constructed and prescribed value, and as we name these categories, we attach significance to them. we define them through a series of exclusions, over and against other identities. whiteness is an a idea; a system of beliefs about the social value of a certain group of people. it is a property that only certain people can lay claim to, and it comes with privileges and socially granted permissions. if discussions about race and confronting the ways in which whiteness is privileged make you uncomfortable, then you should have those discussions more often and be more open-minded to perspectives that are not your own.

your token(?) black friend is not the ambassador of all black people. nor am i. it doesn't matter if you grew up in a predominantly black neighborhood or went to a predominantly black school. you cannot use one person or a group of people as the basis for your beliefs about the behavior(s) and experience(s) of an entire race. "not all white people" act/think the same, as you sometimes like to point out. similarly, not all black people act/think the same. we adopt the colloquialisms, behaviors, and ideologies of the environments in which we exist and the communities that we are a part of. that is human nature. here, i'd like to say that, at some point, we should all stop being products of our environment and become products of knowledge. 

speaking of the "not all white people" argument, do not interrupt or co-opt a discussion about institutional racism with this line of logic. even if you as an individual are not a racist or a white supremacist, that does not negate the fact that racist and supremacist ideals still exist and they still affect our lives. just because you personally have not experienced or witnessed it, does not mean that you get to deny the legitimacy of another's experience(s). being "colorblind" is not helpful either. just because you ignore race, even if your intentions are good, that does not mean that racism does not still exist, or that you don't participate in subtle, subconscious, every day racism (see: microaggressions). we should all be aware of race and we should actively make an effort to combat racism.

no, we don't blame you personally for slavery, but we will hold you accountable for your own words and actions. i know what you're going to say: white bodies have also been enslaved throughout history. we know. we also know that the enslavement of black bodies left a legacy of systemic and systematic racism in ways that other forms of slavery have not; Jim Crow laws, government sanctioned violence(s) and discrimination, disenfranchisement, blackface minstrelsy, etc. the civil rights movement did not end in 1968. the Voting Rights Act was signed only 49 years ago (in the words of Louis C.K., "there are three guys in my building who are older than American democracy!") and many are still facing voting restrictions. the Brown v. Board of Education of Topeka ruling was only sixty years ago. Martin Luther King, Jr. did not eradicate racist ideologies, nor did the election and inauguration of President Obama. we do not live in a post racial society. black people are still being lynched. acknowledging that the enslavement of black bodies has left a legacy of racism is not useless complaining and it does not delegitimate the history of enslavement of white bodies. all slavery is horrible. in no way is anyone saying that white slaves didn't also suffer violence. the point is that, regardless of your history, as a white person in this world, your life is valued more than the lives of people of color. you should be aware of the ways in which people of color are devalued in everyday situations and how it compares your own experience in this world.

lastly, if a person of color informs you that something you did or said is racially insensitive or offensive to them, do not tell them that they are overreacting or being hypersensitive. racism hurts. if you've done or said something offensive, you should 1) apologize, 2) politely make an attempt to understand why it is offensive, 3) listen to what they have to say with an open mind and respect the legitimacy of their experience(s), 4) never do/say it again, and 5) hold other people accountable if you see/hear them commit this same offense in another space. this is how you can help to actively combat racism.

racism isn't a tangible thing that sits on a shelf collecting dust until someone decides to take it down and weaponize it. it is an entity; ever living and breathing, and at its heart is hatred and fear. it may not always manifest in ways which are easily recognizable to you, but the destruction that it leaves in its wake is evident in the lives and experiences of many. though it can be a ruthless force, racism is not impenetrable. it can be confronted and it can be diminished. the responsibility belongs to all of us to engage with it, and we can have constructive discussions by first acknowledging the fact that it exists and the (subconscious) ways in which we participate in it. and so, here is where i end my rant. thanks for listening. that's all for now.

all my love.

the struggle: if you're nappy and you know it

this is my natural hair. 

i have some S curls and some waves, but mostly coils. if i were to classify it within the hair-typing system (see below), i would call it 4a. 

i'm often self conscious about my hair. don't misunderstand me. i love my hair. how i feel about it is not the issue; it's how other people feel about it, talk about it, and react to it. it's not that i care what other people think about me. the thing is that other people's reactions say a lot about how we as a society think about black hair. over the past few years, i've mentally cataloged the different types of reactions that i've encountered, from people of all races, ages, and genders.  

disbelief, accusations, and insults

"you got that good hair." this backhanded compliment is offensive, and not just because of the atrocious grammar. to tell me that my hair is "good" because my curls are loose and defined is to say that other black hair is "bad" and should be fixed. ALL HAIR IS GOOD HAIR.

"ooohh, your hair is so thick and curly! what are your mixed with? you must be mixed with something." or "is that a weave? . . . oh, it's not? . . . stop lying!" to insist that the beauty of my hair must be an attribute of any other non-black race or an artificial accessory is to insist that the beauty of blackness and natural black hair is impossible.

"you're cute for a natural girl." this is another backhanded compliment that is brimming with assumptions about black women and natural black hair. this is the same as telling a woman that she is "pretty for a dark skinned girl" or "cute for a big girl". what you're saying is that dark skin, fat bodies, and natural black hair are inherently unattractive and undesirable, and that it is abnormal for you to find someone attractive with these traits. stop telling black women that they are beautiful in spite of these common traits; traits that many people take pride in as defining features of their blackness.

"so, you hate women with permed hair?" no, i don't hate women who relax their hair. nor do i assume that they hate themselves. chemical straightening is a personal choice. it is not my place to judge what women do with their bodies. nor is it yours.

solidarity, curiosity, and comparisons

"yes, honey, black power!" my natural hair is not inherently a political statement. it is simply my hair. to wear it free and untamed is not radical to me, but i understand that it will be viewed as consciously defying societal standards of accepted forms of beauty, "appropriate" forms of appearance, and the politics of respectability and professionalism. that's fine with me. there are moments when i feel especially progressive and transformative, but mostly, i'm just trying to make it through the day with my afro in tact. there is a stereotype that black women with natural hair are more aggressive, more militant, and more masculine (the discussion about racialized masculinity and femininity is for another day) than our counterparts. it's important to remember that fulfilling certain stereotypes does not automatically make you a bad representative of that group. if you want to operationalize your natural hair as a tool to combat traditional beauty standards, then by all means, be militant, and don't let anyone make you feel bad about it. i support you and your (c)overt activism.

"how does it do that? can i touch it?" *reaches for my hair without waiting for an answer* i understand and welcome curiosity. i think it's healthy. ask me all the questions you want. i'll gladly (attempt to) answer them, but - and i can't believe that i keep having to say this - DO NOT TOUCH MY HAIR. it is an invasion of personal space and autonomy when people touch a part of your body without permission. it's dismissive and rude and some consider it to be a form of violence. just don't.

"how do you get your hair to curl like that? i want mine to look like yours." sure, you can come to me with questions if you want advice, but don't expect me to have all the answers and don't expect your hair to behave exactly like mine or that natural hair vlogger on YouTube and Instagram. trust me, we can't get our hair to behave the same way everyday anyway. EVERYONE'S HAIR IS DIFFERENT. that is perhaps the most important lesson that you will learn if you're transitioning or maintaining natural hair. the sooner you learn this lesson, the better your experience will be. have realistic expectations for your hair. and do not think for one second that your kinks, coils, or curls are any less amazing than mine or any one else's, regardless of how tight they are or how much they shrink. don't just learn about natural hair. get to know and love your hair. 

fetishizing, reassurances/assumptions, and desexualizing

"i love natural black women. that sh*t turns me on." or "natural girls f*ck better." oh, you love natural black women? that's cool. i thank you for your compliment, sir or madam, but stop talking about me like they talk about light skinned, big booty women in rap/hip-hop songs. stop fetishizing me. do not make assumptions about me and my sexual abilities/expression based on my appearance. do better. 

"don't let white society tell you that your hair is unattractive. i think your afro is beautiful and sexy. can i have your number?" again, thanks for the compliment, but you should not make assumptions about my self-confidence based on what you think you know about race relations, power dynamics, and body politics and how they relate to me and my afro. and you most certainly should not use my assumed low self-confidence as a social lubricant to pursue a relationship(?) with me. i don't need your reassurances. you are not as slick as you think you are. 

"i'm not attracted to girls with natural hair. i like long hair that i can run my fingers through." this is a special class of black men who go out of their way to tell me that they aren't attracted to me. um, ok then. leave me alone and go talk to someone you are attracted to. more importantly, stop trying to impose your white standards of beauty onto my black body. oh, and just for your information, natural hair can be long, natural hair can be straightened, and we actually do run our fingers through our hair. it's called detangling.

these are just a few of the things that i encounter just trying to exist in the world with natural hair. so, again, i love my hair, but constantly having to maneuver the questions, assumptions, and insults is exhausting and often makes me self-conscious. do not be one of these people. if you have questions, ask them nicely. if you don't like my hair or you aren't attracted to me because of it, keep it to yourself. you know, just be a decent and considerate person. please and thank you.