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.

feministing while black

one of my favorite social media friends came to me with a question recently. he wanted to know how i felt about those who consider themselves to be pro-black who say that black women shouldn't be or can't be feminist. i thanked him for his question and attempted to answer it in three points.

1) it is my opinion that being pro-black should not equal being anti-white. being antagonistic against any race, whether or not that race is the "dominant" one, is still racism. i don't condone it in any form. i consider myself to be pro-black, in that i support those who identify as black, and i will forever battle against those who think that blackness is something to be ashamed of. being pro-black shouldn't just be about defying "the white man', it should be about celebrating the (shared, but not monolithic) life and experience of existing in a black body in this world.

2) i've been asked the question about black women and feminism, or versions of this question, a few times before. what i often find is that the people who are usually asking that question have a negative view of feminism and lack comprehension of what feminism is. these people are usually thinking about the beginnings of the feminist movement, which was racist in its inception. the short version is that it was led by white middle class women who only considered the social issues facing white middle class women, while ignoring the fact that oppressions of women of color were very different from their own. modern feminism is different than the first or second waves of the movement, though it has it's pitfalls. its more inclusive and constantly strives to become more and more so. feminism isn't just about women's liberation. we take up systems of power and investigate systemic oppressions that affect all identities defined by race, gender, sexuality, physical ability, species, etc. 

3) now, consider the history of black women and the policing of black women's bodies, sexualities, reproduction, etc., in the U.S. and abroad. and consider that we live in society which values whiteness and maleness above all else. i would say that black women have a relationship to systemic oppression in a way that is different from black men, as we are constantly battling the joined forces of racism and sexism. this is not to say that the marginalization and criminalization of black men is not legitimate; it is simply different. feminism is the only movement (that i know of) which seeks to combat the racism and sexism experienced by women of color without delegitimizing the racism that men of color also experience, and simultaneously fights for others who experience oppression because of their sexuality, weight, gender identity or performance, physical or mental disability, etc. feminism is all about celebrating difference, promoting unconditional self-love, and dismantling oppressions.

i gave this incredibly long explanation to say this: when someone asks me how a black woman can be a feminist, i define feminism for them in the same way that i've just defined it here, and then counter with my own question.

how can a black woman NOT be a feminist?

out of the mouths of babes | other people's kids

i went to pick up jada from kindergarten this afternoon. while in the hallway, a little blonde girl stopped and pointed directly at me, with her arm outstretched, and said to her friend, "look at that girl's hair!" her friend wasn't paying attention, so she slapped the little boy on the shoulder until he turned to look. she pointed and exclaimed again, "look at that girl's hair! it's funny looking!" then she doubled over with laughter and her friend joined in, slapping his knee.

it might not seem like a big deal when kindergartners insult you, but it really is. especially when that insult is racialized. regardless of race or age, we should all be considerate and mindful of the things that we do and the words that we say. the little blonde girl with naturally straight hair didn't hurt my feelings with her racist remarks about my naturally thick, curly hair which defies gravity, but she would have hurt jada's feelings, deeply, if she had done that to her. in my family, we already tell jada that her thick hair and dark brown skin are beautiful and wonderful things to be proud of, but there will always be someone who tries to convince her otherwise.

my point: fear and hatred of blackness (and otherness) begin earlier than we often realize, and we are all responsible for combating this.