Our success is a threat to them.

Why?

Black men, are indeed part of discourse on patriarchy and male privilege. And they’re also a part of the conversation on how the institution of Black male power is being sourced. Black men represent the highest population of incarcerated persons. Unlike other races of men, homicide is top five killer of Black men. I do not pose these systemic issues as Black men’s fault. Instead, I mention them to illustrate the dire atmosphere Black males face and how these issues possibly foster conditions in which Black men turn to the other avenues for power—in this case, Black women’s agency.

These avenues vary by nation, culture, and context, but Black women’s immobility, whether sexual or economic, seems to be a supreme source of power for Black men. Whether we’re being tacky by carrying condoms or freezing at night because we dared to earn degrees, if we’re performing choice, it’s perceived as a threat to Black male mobility. In so many arenas, Black male power is being siphoned from Black women’s livelihoods—a cultural crisis of sorts.

When examined just as tweets, they appear to be harmless, crude opinions from contrarian viewers. But in a larger cultural context—when we start looking at social hierarchies and who comes first in line for power—these comments represent a rift between Black men and Black women. Though still oppressed because of their Blackness, male privilege in a patriarchal society has given Black men a one up on Black women. Even in terms of historical order of political rights, it’s always been the White man, the Black man, the White woman, and then the Black woman—at the bottom of the barrel.

Wow. That explains a lot. No wonder we have trolls coming in here bragging that black men interracially date and marry three times the rate of black women and how all we’ll ever be is the white man’s bed wench (the relationship between Olivia and Fitz fits into this narrative for them) despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary–white men and non-black men are wife-ing up black women, not hiding them under their beds. As my friend LorMarie often says, “These are conquered men who are competing with women.”

And this little nugget is the money shot…

Though she remains in a position of submission, to a White man, Pope has stepped from behind the Black man and cut the proverbial political line. There is this implicit “how dare you?” tone in Black men’s Twitter commentary about the show. Black women have played ‘other women’ to married Black men, for decades. It’s not until now that it’s an issue of morality. The show’s relational dynamics aren’t what we’re used to. And likely, because so much of Black men’s power has come from Black women’s oppression, this shift makes them uncomfortable.

And THIS is why they are scared…

And so, as Black female identity slowly begins to transcend historical dichotomies, this generator of sexual, political Black female immobility—that has powered Black male power and patriarchy for so long—is running out of fuel.

I’m worried that pretty soon, it’ll be lights out. Lucky for them though, there are a few activist, feminist Black male allies to the womanist movement—and they’ve brought flashlights.

They are running out of mammies and mule to carry their water. Boo fricking-hoo. More black women are realizing that it’s not our sole responsibility to worship, uplift, and carry water for black men out of some mythical historical duty. Let the “blacklash” begin.

I am a single, 24yrs old girl with a university degree in Marketing and I live in the Netherlands. I am a huge fan of your blog and I visit it often. My sister makes fun of me all the time because she can’t seem to understand the obsession I have with your blog. I mainly visit it for advices and I like that your readers always share their loving stories and advices with everybody and that has helped me tremendously.
 
The main reason why am writing to you is because I’m in a very difficult period in my life right now. My story is really complicated and I would like some advice from you ( if you can of course).  After a very disturbing and not healthy relationship (not blaming the guy ) I decided enough was enough.  I was in a 4 years relationship with a MARRIED man and please don’t judge me because I have being doing it for the last 4yrs.

 I met this good looking guy when I was 20yrs old, he was 40 yrs and I was very naïve and young at the time. I wasn’t looking for a relationship let alone with a married man at 20 but for some strange reason it happened. He is a nice guy who had a lot of respect for me and treated me like a princess, maybe that’s why I felt for him. Don’t get me wrong, I was young enough to realize that I was playing with fire but I guess that didn’t stop me and I will forever regret making that choice.  
 
To start with, I don’t have a lot of friends like my sister and I think that also contributed to me dating him. I could hang out with him and do lots of fun stuff together so I didn’t focus on making friends in school.  We used to travel together around the world, slept in 4 stars hotels and my best friend and sisters envied my lifestyle because it was very glamorous. I lived a fancy life meaning that I didn’t have to work, he gave me expensive gifts, I could shop all the time and he bought me a car. I was blinded by the beautiful gifts.
He even became very close to my family and they loved him back. Of course they didn’t know he was married because I was embarrassed and ashamed to tell anyone but I eventually told my mom and my sister because I couldn’t live with the secret anymore. My sister was devastated and couldn’t believe I would ever date a married guy because everyone in my family and friends tell me I am very pretty and could get any man I want. I never had any problems attracting guys in school and my sister couldn’t understand why I would ever fall for a married guy. The problem is that I never truly believed I was pretty and still don’t. Whenever I look in the mirror I see a pretty face with big brown eyes but my low self esteem makes me see something else, which is very sad.  
My mother on the other hand had a very disturbing reaction learning that I was dating a married man. My mother liked him very much and she saw how happy I was that she didn’t encouraged me to get out of the relationship. I know it sounds ridiculous and you are probably thinking that my mom is a monster for supporting my relationship but my mom hasn’t been lucky finding love herself. She’s being cheated on several times and only had terrible guys in her life which made her not to believe there are still good man out there. I don’t want to make any excuses for her because I feel sorry for her but I would think she would want what’s best for me. Maybe she honestly thought I was very happy because I never complained to her about him and our relationship. She witnessed how he treated me like a princess. Little does she know I was extremely miserable and battling with some serious self esteem issues. My parents divorced when I was 7 yrs old and my mom remarried but she isn’t happy in her marriage because my stepdad cheated on her just like her previous boyfriends. My dad actually never cheated on her when they were together and I have a very good relationship with him. I didn’t tell him that the guy he liked so much is married because that would have broken his heart. I am daddy’s little girl and he always tells me to look for true love and only be with men that are worthy of me. Till this day, he still doesn’t know I was involved with a married guy.

This relationship destroyed me and made me doubt myself even more. I was such a lovely and outgoing girl. I lived in Paris by myself when I was 19 and I had friends and was very happy. When I met him I started isolating myself from the real world and would only hang out with him and did things I should have been doing with friends. I can’t blame anyone but me because I brought this misery upon myself. Yes I enjoyed traveling around the world, eating in very fancy restaurants, driving a beautiful car, didn’t have to work like my sister and classmates but for what exactly? I traded my self esteem for some shoes and good food? I can’t believe it and I will never forgive myself for being so stupid and I will forever regret it for the rest of my life. I cry everyday and I just wish I could turn back time.

Anyway, I am no longer in a relationship with him for almost a month. I always wanted to leave him but couldn’t bring myself to and one day he made the decision to leave me and I always thought I would be making that decision. Him making that decision was an eye opening moment and I finally realized that I had to make significant changes in my life. I am rebuilding my life and it is not easy. I did a big chop on my natural hair ( yes I did), started swimming again and have been looking for a job. It’s not easy breaking up with someone you were involved with for 4 years and looking for a job at the same time especially with the European economy getting worst every day. My next plan is to move out of my parent’s house as soon as I have save enough money and I am giving myself not more than a year.
It hasn’t been easy at all and I am still struggling every day. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of him but I quickly remind myself that he actually never loved me even though he claims he did. I never wanted him to leave his wife and kids because I will never forgive myself for doing that to her and frankly he wasn’t planning on leaving her either. I just wished I could have ended this relationship a long time ago.

Fortunately, I have your blog and the advices from your readers to help me. My life hasn’t been the same ever since I stumbled upon your blog. I decided to change my life and right now I am looking for self help books to regain some self esteem. I just don’t know any good one right now. I am terrified of going through what my mum went through with men and being unlucky with love. I want to be loved, find real love and get married but I have to believe that there are good guys out there but it’s very difficult considering the fact that I don’t even know what a good guy is anymore. This was my first relationship ever and it hurts it was a recipe for disaster. I want to fall in love again with a nice guy but right now I’m not ready.  I know you always tell women on your blog to find a good therapist but I wish I could afford one. I know I should get out there and try different foods and drinks, meditate so I can see the forest for the trees and find someone to love who will love me back.  Be fearless, find my voice, take a chance and live my life to the fullest but I don’t even know where to begin.  I can’t go back and reset time and start the clock again with the knowledge I now have but I can look to finding someone special. I am very young and still have the time to turn my life around. Lately I have been thinking of taking a two weeks trip to France to visit my aunt and a cousin with whom I am very close. I have also been thinking of going out more but I don’t like going out by myself because it is boring to sit alone in a café.

I should stop writing now but I just wanted to share with you the story of my life. I know you don’t have a magic wand to change my life but it would be great to get some advice. I definitely understand if you don’t have the time to respond considering your busy life being a wife, a mother and having a blog. If you were to ever meet me, you would think I am such a happy, pretty, well behaved and energetic person who sees the glass as half full. That is true to an extent. If only I could believe in myself and make sure to make every moment of my life more amazing. You could share what I have shared with you but keep it anonymous.  I don’t want someone else make the mistake i did when i was 20 years old.
In addition, I just want to thank you for what you are doing with your blog and keep helping young women around the world because you are good at it.

Much love from Europe

——————

Honey, no I don’t think your mom is a monster, but perhaps she suffers from a similar low self image as you do. Typically, married men looking to cheat target young women like yourself, and they can sniff insecurity like blood in that water. It also sounds like this man is charming and knows how to sweep a girl off her feet. Know that you have made the right decision in leaving, and you should run and not look back. Married men often cheat because of the passion they are missing in their marriage, and are stimulation seeking. This man probably is not in love with you, and after four years, he’s most definitely not going to leave his wife. He’s probably persisting with the relationship because he knows you’re vulnerable and it’s easier than going out and starting all over again with a new target.

The real issue, dear, is that you don’t really believe you’re worth more than just a side piece. I don’t know if you’ve always felt this way, or if being in this kind of relationship exacerbated the issue. It’s only when you realize your worth can you move on to more healthy and reciprocal relationships. I can’t tell you want a high self-worth looks like for you, because the bar is set differently for everyone. But in general, you put more stock in yourself when you’ve achieved a certain level of success with completing your personal goals and challenges. Take a break from relationships for a while, and find out what your really need in order to feel better about yourself, and I highly recommend you talk to a therapist. While I know your mother’s support is comforting, I recommend you not go to her for any more advice or discussion on the matter.

The good news? You made a mistake, but your young enough to fix it. Chalk it up to lessons learned and then DO BETTER, because you DESERVE BETTER.

Keep your head up, chica.

Ladies, chime in and let’s lend this young lady some support.

For all of the talk of empowering black women to lead the best lives that they can one thing stands out. Living the good life takes money and how you handle that aspect of your life is a learned skill just like any other that you will learn over time.

Some are lucky to learn these lessons at their parents knee. Others not so much. The recent articles of Beyond Black & White have inspired me to start a series of articles on money management. Whether you are starting out or digging your self out of a hole the information is out there for all to use to prosper. It is free.

Today’s lesson: The Payday Loan.
The New York times recently did an article on major banks aiding in payday loans. You can read the story here.

Now the back ground.

What is it?
If you were in a financial fix would you be willing to borrow from a loan shark? Maybe not. Those guys do not play when it comes to collecting their money and they do not take no for an answer.
Think of the payday loan the same way. These operators deal is small, usually $100 -$1500, short term, usually 7 to 30 day loans at exorbitant rates. You will get a quick and dirty definition here:

http://www.investopedia.com/terms/p/payday-loans.asp#axzz2LrWmrcOt

You will get even more information here:

http://www.consumer.ftc.gov/articles/0097-payday-loans

Why are they your nightmare?
These loans can roll over for longer periods. In fact the lenders have no problem rolling these over since it is the fees that they want so as long as you keep paying on the loan they keep collecting the fees. There in lay the problem. If you are in a situation that you cannot come up with $100 to $1,500 then it is pretty safe that you will not come up with it at the end of the loan period. Payday loans are used mostly by those at the bottom of the economic scale. Read that to mean the poor. Read that to mean minorities who make up a large percentage of the poor. Read that to mean women of color who are included in that group and yep that means black women, which is why I am writing this. Now few people do pay off the loans on time but most do not and are caught in the web of escalating fees.

LENDERS LOVE FEES. Never forget that. That is the mother’s milk of the industry. Lenders look for all kinds of ways to charge us for using their money. The smart consumer finds all kinds of ways to avoid paying these fees.

Are these loans illegal?
In some states they are. In others they are not.
Here is a current list of States where they are illegal.

http://www.debtconsolidationcare.com/settlement/pdl-prohibited.html

If you are in the military this information is for you.

http://usmilitary.about.com/od/millegislation/a/paydayloans.htm

The fee, the whole fee and nothing but the fee.
As I said before this is the mother’s milk of the banking industry of which payday loans, like it or not are a part. In the credit card industry people who pay their balance in full at the end of the month are called Deadbeats. Nice huh? Deadbeats. Why is that? Because these folks used credit with out paying the fees that accrue from carrying a balance. That gives you a clue about what these lenders think about people who pay on time and in full. Well the banking and pay day folks are really not much better. They love you to carry a balance. No, they LOVE you to carry a balance. They love you to keep paying those fees month after month, in fact they make it easy for you to do that. They will roll over your balance month after month. They will offer you more money to borrow. They will let you pay only the interest owed on your loan. Each time they do something like that they will recalculate your loan agreement and add the fees incurred to the pot. This is why you never pay these kind of loans off and why they grow….and grow…..and grow.

When these loans grow the fees grow along with them. If you are already in a financially risky situation you have just made it worse. The loan gets bigger, you borrow more to stay ahead of it, the debt grows, eating more and more of your disposable income until you crash. Does the payday lender want you to crash? No. They want you to keep paying fees. But if you crash then that is on you, you are considered a deadbeat and they now have all kinds of laws on their side to liquidate what little you have to get their money. They will attach your pay check, they will take your home they will destroy your credit rating, you name it and they will sell the debt to a collection agency. Let the dunning calls and harassment begin. Oh and don’t look to declaring bankruptcy to save you . The laws were changed to make that harder for most people to do.

From the New York Times article:
“Ivy Brodsky, 37, thought she had figured out a way to stop six payday lenders from taking money from her account when she visited her Chase branch in Brighton Beach in Brooklyn in March to close it. But Chase kept the account open and between April and May, the six Internet lenders tried to withdraw money from Ms. Brodsky’s account 55 times, according to bank records reviewed by The New York Times. Chase charged her $1,523 in fees — a combination of 44 insufficient fund fees, extended overdraft fees and service fees.
For Subrina Baptiste, 33, an educational assistant in Brooklyn, the overdraft fees levied by Chase cannibalized her child support income. She said she applied for a $400 loan from Loanshoponline.com and a $700 loan from Advancemetoday.com in 2011. The loans, with annual interest rates of 730 percent and 584 percent respectively, skirt New York law.

Ms. Baptiste said she asked Chase to revoke the automatic withdrawals in October 2011, but was told that she had to ask the lenders instead. In one month, her bank records show, the lenders tried to take money from her account at least six times. Chase charged her $812 in fees and deducted over $600 from her child-support payments to cover them.”

Those numbers are scary aren’t they? Now, I do not know the personal circumstances of the women in the article but consider this. You have a women, alone or with children. She does not make much money and is working her tail off to keep it together. She is in a bind and takes out one of these loans and starts the cycle. Think of what else this woman could be doing with the money she paid to fees. Think of the better life style that she could afford. Better, maybe safer housing. Maybe out of blackistan? A college course that she could take to improve her job prospects. A car so that she does not have to stand and wait for a bus to get around. More money at the end of the month, more savings for her retirement. Sometimes it is just a few dollars that make the difference.

How do you prevent yourself from being a victim of Payday loans?
Short answer do not take out these kinds of loans. These are loans of desperation and sound money management skills will prevent the need for them.
What follows are some resources to help:

http://banking.about.com/od/loans/a/PaydayLoans.htm

http://www.wikihow.com/Deal-With-the-Consequences-of-Not-Paying-Payday-Loans

The long and the short of it if you are already in the hole you must do what you can to dig yourself out. After that not falling back in is key to a better life and the subject for our next article.

An emergency fund is your best friend.

“It is a peculiar sensation, this double-consciousness, this sense of always looking at one’s self through the eyes of others, of measuring one’s soul by the tape of a world that looks on in amused contempt and pity. One ever feels his two-ness,—an American, a Negro; two souls, two thoughts, two unreconciled strivings; two warring ideals in one dark body, whose dogged strength alone keeps it from being torn asunder.”

Double consciousness is a heavy enough burden to deal with but just add gender to the mix. Black women have three strikes against them. They are women, strike one. They belong to a class that is associated with poverty and welfare, strike two. And most importantly, they are black, strike three. Thus the concept of “triple consciousness” is created: being born black, American, and female, with second-class citizenship across the board.

It is a strange lot to be a black woman in American society. She was brought to this country to be an unpaid worker, a concubine and a broodmare. Her body and her sexuality has been reviled and experimented on but from the various brilliant shades of brown black people come in, is curiously loved.
Her face has been used as the poster child for poverty and welfare and she has to deal with the dismissal and contempt from everyone, from her own people to society at large yet in spite of everything, she is filled with fire. A swirling contrast of fire, salty tears wept, and strength.

No pedestal for the black woman because she was needed to be the foot stool for American society. Black women’s personal has always been political since 1619 and their personal lives have always been inextricably tied to larger issues of justice, equality, and human rights. Abolition, anti-lynching crusades, and the boycotts and protests of the Civil Rights movement were matters of survival, and black women have fought relentlessly against the historical struggle of racism, sexism, and poverty while struggling to find the inner woman within.

Feminism as a social and political movement has not fully recognized black women’s triple consciousness, their history and everyday lives, lives lived through the dehumanizing experience of slavery and the unfulfilled promises of Reconstruction; through lynching, Jim Crow, segregation; through contemporary racial disparities and injustice. At its worst, feminism has not only failed to challenge the larger society’s racism and classism, it has mirrored it.

Triple consciousness is not an easy burden for black women because they have been taught to ignore the rampant misogynist, destructive thought patterns that exist in their communities and to just concentrate on issues of race, blinding standing by secular and religious traditions that have been holding them back for a generation.

Amid protests, abolitionist and former slave Sojourner Truth addressed the 1851 Women’s Convention in Akron, Ohio, on the subject of women’s rights (the women’s rights movement having grown, in part, out of the anti-slavery movement). Responding to male contention that women’s delicacy and need for pedestals relieved them of any pesky need for rights, Truth wondered aloud where her pedestal was. Having plowed fields as well as any man, and endured whippings and the sale of her children, across a century Truth’s question still echoes: “Ain’t I a woman?”

Misrecognition and Stereotypes

Harris-Perry thoroughly discusses the term misrecognition when she articulates the use of stereotypes to truncate opportunities, esteem, and worth initiatives for black women. What is misrecognition? It is the misjudgement or mis-characterization of an entire person’s self based on perceived or assumed traits (positive or negative). Misrecognition is inherent in race-based stereotyping because it a) assumes that a perfect stranger can accurately gauge another individual’s race, ethnicity, or heritage from perception alone, b) seeks to identify certain behaviors as attributable to their own understanding of said race, and c) relies on very limited information or exposure to make those judgements.

Misrecognition is extremely powerful. And, it plays directly into the notion of the crooked room. The crooked room says that an individual is only one of several predesignated characters. And, it assigns folks into categories based on those imagined and pre-fitted roles. Once those roles are assigned, individuals are measured by their congruence with these crooked images. And, when they fall in line with negative images like Sapphire or Jezebel, they are shamed for their behavior.

So what is shame exactly?

‘Re-integrative’ Shame versus Stigmatizing Shame

Were you ever that kid who got a whoopin’ in the church bathroom? Maybe you got pulled out of a room by your ear? Or, better yet, maybe you and your cousins had to go outside and pick a switch to get your punishment after having a pillow fight? I was all of those kids. And, if you experienced these things, then you, like me, have experienced re-integrative shaming. This type of shaming usually comes from authority figures or parents who use punishment in a more public setting to teach you acceptable behaviors.

For example, a child with a cursing problem might be forced to wash his or her mouth out with soap. And, that action, though disgusting, teaches the child to remove the dirty words from his or her vocabulary. But, as long as it isn’t followed up by repeated extremes and the child is welcomed back into the loving family with no strings attached, the act is neither exclusionary nor permanent.

But, there is a different, much more diabolical form of this punishment called stigmatizing shame. Stigmatizing shame does not seek to teach the individual much except that his or her whole person (not the behavior) is bad. Stigmatizing shame was a foundational aspect of slavery and Jim Crow. It said, in a sense, that black people were inherently bad, dirty, unclean, wanton, and barbaric. Instead of attributing certain features to certain individuals, it inspired the adoption of collective stigmas associated with the entire group in order to subjugate and reduce all of the individuals within the group.

Stigmatizing shame teaches LGBTQ folks to stay “in the closet.” It teaches those who have been victims of sexual assault to keep quiet so they don’t seem like they somehow welcomed the abuse. Stigmatizing shame teaches young women and men climbing the social ladder to hide their poor beginnings. And, for black women, stigmas about natural hair textures, eating habits, voice tempo and volume, career choices, child rearing, and a host of other things have taught us to hide behind a variety of more “acceptable” social norms.

Any of this stuff sound familiar?

How Shame Works

One key characteristic in the collective shaming of black women is a term Harris-Perry calls fictive kinship.

“The term ‘fictive kinship’ refers to connections between members of a group who are unrelated by blood or marriage but who nonetheless share reciprocal social or economic relationships.”

This notion of innate connection to others in a social group helps to draw pride from images like President Obama. But, conversely, the same kinship draws shame from folks like Shawty Lo or Kanye West. It is this kinship that leaves the black community reeling when a prominent black figure cheats on his wife or goes into a fit of rage on national television. And, it is this same kinship that helps to reiterate societal pressures to avoid unsavory images at all costs.

According to Harris-Perry, feelings of shame occur when we feel exposed to and in disappointment of a “real or imagined audience.” Shame happens when we become worried about what other people might think. Eerily though, Harris-Perry notes that, “when we feel ashamed, we assume the room is straight and that the self is off-kilter.” So, if the self is indeed “off-kilter,” we are then normalizing the crooked behavior and marginalizing our true identities.

When this happens, individuals become desensitized to obscure images of themselves and one another and snuggle into the comfortable slot carved out for them in the crooked room. And, in many cases, the shame works to keep people, who would otherwise be socially mobile, in a repetitive cycle of immobility, thereby validating the crooked images. This is called self-fulfilling prophecy.

But, what happens when someone who actually isn’t one of those crooked images is treated like they are? I am glad you asked. I’ve got a scenario for that.

What Happened at the End of the Sapphire Post?

Well, in the last installment of this series, I left off with a riveting story of my arrest for school truancy. And, after reading this book, that situation became so much clearer to me. I realized that that cop was attempting to shame me. And he was succeeding.

Gather ’round folks…I’m going to finish the story…

“It is instances like these that produce those angry little black girls. It is instances like these that harden feminine hearts. It is instances like these that prove that neither academia nor athleticism nor altruism can work to defray the weight of the burdensome angry black woman load. And, in fighting this white cop, I was fighting against a larger societal vision for me. I was attempting to stand against something much bigger than myself to no avail.”

The cop took me to a middle school about 15 miles away from my high school. He never said a word to me for the entire ride.

“Is this a real cop car? Like where criminals ride?”

Silence.

“Why am I in the backseat?”

Silence.

So, I sat there with my thoughts. Crying. And, crying. Then, I stopped. I literally just stopped. I was pissed off. I was angry. I was REALLY angry. As we pulled up, I saw a line of black kids going into the truancy center. They were girls, boys, some of them looked grown. And, there were cops everywhere. Laughing and chatting. Drinking coffee. But they weren’t talking to the kids.

The cop took me out of the car cradling my head on the way out of the vehicle like he actually gave a crap.

“Okay, go stand in that line. Give them your name and what school you came from. Go upstairs and they will have reading material for you. You can do homework also.”

“I don’t have my homework. You picked me up at second period and wouldn’t let me get my backpack. When can I go home?”

“That is up to you parents.”

I laughed to myself, “parents.” Whatever. I got in line behind a girl with super long finger nails and braids and waited to tell some chick who I was so I could ruin my otherwise perfect school record. Once I handled that deed, I went upstairs and sat at the smallest table known to man in a room full of other high school students sitting at similar tables. There were no adults in the room. It was like baby detention or something.

On the tables they had little pamphlets with phrases like “why am I here?” and “what is a truant?” I was over it. Done. A lady came over to me and asked me if I wanted to call my mom or dad. Once I did, I realized that no one really gave a crap that I was in baby prison for the day. My mother and my brother (because dad was the no-show type) were not going to exit their quaint little daily plans for me to get back to my academic studies and perfect grades.

My teachers weren’t going to put out an APB. And, life would go on. I looked around at everyone else, and they all looked as if they felt the exact same way. We were corralled in this room away from our friends, not talked to, not addressed, and basically shunned to make a point. We were bad. Being a truant was bad. And therefore, we were bad. The reasons didn’t matter. The intentions didn’t matter. All that mattered was the color of our skin and the location of our feet on a curb during school hours.

And, it worked. I felt ashamed. I prayed that I would never see these people again. I prayed that no one from my church had seen me in the cop car. I prayed that my purse and backpack would be safe for the remainder of the school day. And, I prayed that someone would at least acknowledge me. And, when my brother came to get me a few hours later, his nonchalance and ineffectual attitude showed me that he thought I was bad too. And, his feelings made me feel even more ashamed.

The shame was almost inescapable. And, that was the point. That white cop did his job that day…

To be continued…When Shame is an Action Word and Reactions to Shame

Buy the book here.

Before writing my last post on Quentin Tarantino’s film “Django Unchained,” I intentionally collected perspectives from many of my friends, relatives, and confidants on what their early impressions were of the movie. Needless to say, I surround myself with some truly intelligent people. And, in doing this, I was attempting to get to the underlying causes of people’s frustration with the film. I found three central, repetitive themes in that psuedo-research that I think are worth further analysis. Those in the black community (since no one outside the black community would touch this with a ten foot pole) that I spoke with echoed issues with a) the black “damsel in distress,” b) the ‘Django Moment’ , and c) phrenology’s seemingly unchallenged presence in the film. And, although I too felt these things to some degree, I am wondering how much validity these issues truly hold.

The Black Damsel in Distress

Previously, I made the assertion that Spike Lee should have had less criticism of the gratuitous use of the n-word in the film and more qualms with the way the character Broomhilda, played by Kerry Washington, was written.

“One major critique I have of the film is the understated and generally lackluster role of Broomhilda (Kerry Washington). Though Washington has spoken candidly of her desire to play the damsel in the film, it was difficult to watch such a prominent female figure in the black community spend 3 hours waiting to be saved by her pompous hero. She has noted that the “fairy tale” like imagery of her story was what contributed to her desire to do the film. But, my core issue with her character was less about how her relationship appeared on screen but how little she contributed to the film at all. For ‘Hildy’ to be the primary focus of Django’s affections, she did little to show why she was able to do so except for the fact that she was a pretty ‘house slave.’ So, I would lodge this critique with much more justification than Lee’s flaccid argument that the movie doesn’t respect our ancestors.”

But, the wise Miss Usher (DUsher) asked the following of me in the comments:

“Why does she have to do anything to ‘earn’ being the primary focus of Django affections and worthy of rescue? Why do we need to know her character resume’? Should it not be enough that he loves his wife and in his eyes she is worth saving.? She could be a lousy cook, a horrible lover etc. she could be as useless as a pink tutu on a bull but the fact that he was willing to kill, steal and destroy to save her.. [Isn't]  it wonderful in a world where black  women were/are not  highly valued we see a black woman who we know little about who was the object of  such a dramatic rescue? Can we only breathe a little easier if we know some redeeming quality about  the character Broomhilda that says to us ‘okay NOW I see why he wanted to rescue her’. Maybe he simply loved his wife and wanted to save her.”

So, here is my question: what is the black woman’s problem with being saved by her man (no matter his race)? Have we been so jaded by stereotypes of strength and masculinity that we are incapable of being treated like dainty flowers? I definitely struggle with this. And, while watching the film, there was a part of me wanting ‘Hildy’ to do something cool or prove her worth to Django. But, after this conversation, I am realizing that this is a socialized need rather than a true one. No woman should have to “prove” anything to anyone. But, many black women are raised to believe that they must assign some value to their characteristics to add up their innate worth.

A fallible ideal this may be, it is an ideal nonetheless. Do you have this issue?

The ‘Django Moment’

Another key issue many black folks raised with the film was something called the “Django Moment.” Per Cord Jefferson, it is “the moment when, while watching Quentin Tarantino’s campy new slave-revenge movie, a person of color begins to feel uncomfortable with the way white people around them are laughing at the horrors onscreen.” He explains how it felt to have non-blacks around him laugh hysterically at particularly sensitive scenes. And, I will admit, I had a similar experience. But, I never had ‘the moment.’ I never thought to myself, “why is SHE laughing?” or “why does HE think that’s funny.” Why? Well, because I found the entire thing darn funny myself. And, I could totally see the humor in the script and delivery.

Judging from the reactions to the content of Django from a varied audience, it is obvious that the way we view race relations, specifically black/white race relations, is changing. And, though this seems like a good thing on the surface, these types of changes sometimes lead to desensitization. Sometimes folks forget the true lived experiences of racial groups because the way society chooses to view said group shifts to something a bit more palatable for the general public.

Did you have a “Django Moment?” Whether black, white, or something in between, did you feel awkward while watching any of the sensitive scenes (like the Klan scene or the Mandingo scene)?

Phrenology (just because it has ‘ology’ at the end doesn’t make it scientific)

So, this might be the biggest issue I have with the film. And, when discussing it with my peers, I found the widest spectrum of responses to it. Phrenology, a non-science that works inductively assuming that a small group of individuals can be used to attribute characteristics to a population or whole, is mostly hackish. It was exploited in the 19th and 20th centuries to justify forced enslavement, sterilization, and other horrors for people of color. And, in attempting to be true to this era, Tarantino included a healthy dose of it in the film.

In one particular scene, the white slaver, Calvin Candie (Leo DiCaprio), explains how the black race has specific brain and skull characteristics that make them suitable, almost made for, enslavement. And, instead of disproving this soliloquy in the film, Tarantino let it linger for the entirety of the piece. In the end, Django (Jamie Foxx) almost seems to validate the claim by calling himself a “one in ten thousand n#%$@.” This, to me, is the point of contention for many.

A good friend of mine mentioned a very valid criticism of this issue on my Facebook feed.

“the ‘one in ten thousand [n*%$#]‘ reference seemed to dangerously play into that phrenology pseudoscience.  if you recall the scene where this term is introduced in reference to django, candie is fascinated because he’s never ‘met a [n*&%$*] quite like’ django.  that is to say, he’s never met a black man who was his equal.  as far as candie was concerned one such black man did not exist (phrenology).  he’s suggesting that it takes a special kind of black man to rise to the level of a white man.  and the phrase seemed to play into this faulty reasoning.  as i said i’m still processing my thoughts on this.  but it’s a loose end that i don’t feel tarantino ties up nicely.”

Another friend replied that it didn’t bother him at all.

“I’m not at all desensitized to overt or covert racism, but by Calvin making the statement about the one in 10k I think it was a part if his character, and a part of a racist ideology that there are ‘exceptional Blacks’…. it’s a fictional movie, not a documentary. To speculate that QT shares these thoughts as a part of his own belief s seems a little hypersensitive. As I said before, we are our own worst enemy. Once I see people protesting against stereotypical images such as Trinidad James, then we can tackle the Django Conspiracy.”

And, honestly, I don’t know exactly where I land here. In one sense, I agree that movie watching is an extremely passive act that could result in folks digesting some of the messaging on phrenology that QT likely intended as farce. But, in another sense, how do we rage against that machine without raging against real characters in the media or otherwise who make black folk look foolish daily? It suffices to say that some folks could still believe in phrenology. But, does QT’s take on it contribute to or neutralize that belief? It is hard to know.

Overall, I still found the film intensely enjoyable but these three issues remain relatively un-analyzed by many. With the likely increase of interest in movies like this, how will these messages form the race dialogue going forward? It is a lot to consider. One thing is for certain though, good or bad, the film brought slavery to the fore. Now we just have to figure out what we are going to do with it.

Any tips on how to be your most feminine self you’d like to share?

But…I can’t.

One of the main reasons I got out of Corporate America was because, upon discovering that I was to be subordinate to a woman, I would break out into chills and cold sweats. You see, I don’t “do” shameless sycophant well, AT ALL. I find it physically painful to fawn all over an insecure boss, hang on her every word, shower her with compliments about her new hair color and beg her to tell me where she gets her nails done.

The worst boss I ever had was a woman, and she damn near caused me a nervous breakdown. I was a struggling single parent at the time, and she, of course childless at the time, was completely insensitive to my work-hour constraints–I had to be at Maxi Me’s preschool before 6:00 PM or have to pay through the nose in after-hour fees, which I could not afford. I also didn’t want my child languishing at the school, the only one who hadn’t been picked up. So she would send me to long-distance trips to San Diego (1.5 hours away with no traffic; 3,ooo hours during rush hour), Los Angeles and Orange County for the all-day escapades to keep the clients happy, but if I wasn’t done with my work by 4PM, I’d sweat bullets because Southern California traffic is the first circle of Dante’s Inferno. She’d openly tell me that she didn’t think I deserved the salary I was hired with, and would say so in the presence of the other junior executives at my level, so they would hate me too. She’d throw me under the bus whenever possible, and was in general, the biggest bitch I’d ever met in my life. I’m not one to hold a grudge, but to this day I loathe her.

Anyway, enough about me and the horrible boss that almost cost me my sanity. I know I’m not alone, and now it’s confirmed. Psychologist Meredith Fuller is set to publish at book called, “Working with Bitches: Identify the Eight Types of Office mean Girls and Rise Above Workplace Nastiness.”

Why might you need it? “Usually, the women are decent, hard working, ethical and transparent workers. They [women like me] are bewildered by conniving, self-serving, or nasty bitches and are likely to assume that somehow it is their fault. Perhaps they’re imagining it; they aren’t competent; they’re too sensitive; they don’t fit the role or place; or they wouldn’t be heard it they spoke up,” says Fuller. That’s because Men don’t want to know about it, and many people haven’t realized the severity of its impact, she says.

I think this book might be especially important for black women, who oftentimes haven’t been exposed to the passive aggressive nature that women of other cultures use to punish their enemies. You need to know so you can side step the wrath of the “Bitchy Boss” so you don’t go home every night and curl into a ball and cry all night. It’s set to come out March 15, so you might want to reserve a copy of pre-order. If I was still a corporate slave, I’ve snatch this book up quick and count the days until I showed up at my doorstep.

Fuller identifies the eight “bitchy” types:

The Excluder: She sees other women as oxygen thieves if there is no personal gain from communicated with them. She can pretend you don’t exist and fail to pass on important information.

The Insecure: She micromanages everyone, trust no one, and thinks that no one knows better than she does.

The Toxic: She is a two-faced game-player who should never be trusted. She’ll suck up to you and be your best friend one minute, then gossip about you the next.

Meet Sapphire, Not the Precious Stone

Well, we’ve already walked through the slavery origins of the Jezebel and the emancipated negro ‘Jim Crow’ underpinnings of the Mammy. But, the Sapphire seems to have little foundational basis. Not only that, she is the least talked about character in the crooked room we have all come to know and love. But, Harris-Perry notes the redounding wavelengths television images have cascaded on real-life black women.

“The academic literature on stereotyping traces the popular representation of black women as uniquely and irrationally angry, obnoxious, and controlling to the 1930s Amos ‘n’ Andy radio show. The nagging, assertive Sapphire character on Amos ‘n’ Andy gave rise to an oft-repeated trope in popular culture representations of black women, from Aunt Esther on Sanford and Son to Pam on Martin. The brash, independent, hostile black woman rarely shows vulnerability or empathy…the angry black woman has many different shadings and representations: the bad black woman, the black ‘bitch,’ and the emasculating matriarch.”

Never heard of Amos ‘n’ Andy?

But you know exactly what she means about Martin right?

While I am inclined to agree, I find that the stereotype has a much more expansive and gargantuan base. Black women are seen as combative, violent, and aggressive in the eyes of the law as well. Black women, like black men, are more likely than their white counterparts to be imprisoned. And, in most cases, their offenses are repetitive and less egregious. So, though it is convenient to look solely to television images and those in movies, real-life truly mimics this trope. And, not only does the angry black woman creation trickle down to normal human beings like me, you, and a host of others, the image is reinforced in every school bus video on YouTube that depicts a violent altercation between a black woman and a black man, or woman, or whomever. Why? Because we have been taught that the image is true.

The angry black woman trope exists in the workplace too. Harris-Perry finds that this stereotype results in employers fearing that black women will be “unreliable” or irascible. And since this is a generally accepted stereotype, the misnomer has also made its way into modern medicine.

“Therapists are less likely to perceive a black woman as sad; instead, they see her as angry or anxious.”

And, to sum up Harris-Perry’s spot-on analysis of the angry black woman, she makes it extremely clear that society’s prevalence toward this unfounded stereotype has had real influence on black women’s lived phenotypes.

“[Black women's] anger is not experienced as a psychological reality but is seen through an ideology that distorts black women’s lived experiences. The angry black woman stereotype hamstrings sisters who find that they cannot forcefully and convincingly advocate their own interests in the public sphere…because their passion and commitment are misread as irrational.”

It is society’s pre-conceived (and ill-conceived) impression that drives many black women to extremes. They may retract in order to disprove the stereotype. Or, they may simply espouse it since the crooked room tells them to. The former might get them further in a social sense, but it will do little to insulate them from the perceptions of others. The latter will likely garner the response expected: exclusion, hatred, loathing, and revilement. But, they may deem that safer in a crooked room with little oxygen for their true persona. Thus emerges the two-ness that W.E.B. Du Bois so remarkably articulated The Souls of Black Folk (1903).

“It is a peculiar sensation, this double-consciousness, this sense of always looking at one’s self through the eyes of others, of measuring one’s soul by the tape of a world that looks on in amused contempt and pity. One ever feels his twoness, – an American, a Negro; two souls, two thoughts, two unreconciled strivings; two warring ideals in one dark body, whose dogged strength alone keeps it from being torn asunder.”

Sapphire’s Pathology

When I was in eleventh grade, I was asked by the Vice Principal of my public high school to grab him a jelly doughnut. Well, I had done this a number of times. And, being that I had an extremely high GPA, held several positions on the school council, and was pretty well-known amongst the faculty for being one of the “good kids,” I thought it okay. So, once the bell rung signalling the start of second period, I skipped right on over to the beloved patisserie across the street and grabbed a half dozen doughnut holes for myself too. Once I had crossed the street and was just about twenty feet from the school’s main entrance, I heard the very familiar whiz of a police vehicle. My first thought was to simply ignore it because there was no way in hell they could possibly be coming for me. As I continued my glide-like stroll, I heard a billowing voice over a speaker-phone call me out personally.

“You, in the blue jeans and red shirt. Please stop and turn around.”

As I stopped to look around and see if anyone else donned my attire, I realized that I was the only person within speaking distance of the cop. But, eerily enough, I wasn’t the only student outdoors. Actually, there were a few Asian males at the bus stop about a block away and a few Hispanic boys watching the conversation from across the street. But, I turned around nonetheless and flippantly addressed the young white male.

“I am taking a doughnut to the Vice Principal. His name is Marty. He asked me to go across the street for my second period IWE (internal work experience). I am not a truant. I have a 3.7 GPA. Can I please go back to school?”

“Law says I have to pick you up.”

“Pick me up? And take me where? I have to go to school. I am not a bad kid. I have never been in trouble. Can you just call the Vice Principal?”

“Law says I have to pick you up. Please turn around.”

“Are you for real arresting me right now? I don’t understand. This is crazy. Can I at least go get my backpack? Wouldn’t I have a backpack if I were truant or cutting class?”

“Miss, I am taking you to the truancy center. You can call your parents from there to pick you up. It doesn’t matter what you were doing or who told you to do it. Law says you can’t be off property during school hours.”

“What about them over there? They are leaving right now. Why aren’t you picking them up?”

And as he tightened a plastic hand-cuff around my wrists, I simply started crying. Not because it hurt. I cried because I was embarrassed that my classmates had seen me getting shoved in a cop car like a criminal. I cried because this cop didn’t seem to give a crap that I was a “good kid” no matter how hard I had worked at becoming one. I cried because I really genuinely wanted to go back to school. And, I cried because I was unsure what this meant for everything else. Was I going to be suspended? Was my mom going to kill me? Would this go on some type of permanent record? Would this impact my college admissions process? The questions were endless.

But, in that moment, just as now, I was reminded of my place. You know, that place where I am ‘supposed’ to exist. That place where hoochies, mammies, and bad girls live. My place in the crooked room. And as I called my mom and my brother crying bloody murder begging them to pick me up, their reactions to me only further cemented my angst, humiliation, hurt, and disillusionment with my prescribed role. Neither of them deemed it important to come to my aid. Neither wanted to leave work to rescue me. Neither wanted to free me of this snare my race and gender had gotten me into.

It is instances like these that produce those angry little black girls. It is instances like these that harden feminine hearts. It is instances like these that prove that neither academia nor athleticism nor altruism can work to defray the weight of the burdensome angry black woman load. And, in fighting this white cop, I was fighting against a larger societal vision for me. I was attempting to stand against something much bigger than myself to no avail.

This is the brilliance of the Sapphire. Not only does it cause black women to understate their accomplishments in an effort not to emasculate the men around them, it also leaves many feeling as though any uttering in their own defense will be seen as being angry just for the sake of being angry. It desensitizes others to the various plights of black women including rape and misogyny culture, single-parenthood, and statistically unequal wealth outcomes. It pre-marks every reaction as an irrational one. It gets folks like Rhonda Lee fired when others display more aggressive demeanors for similar issues. It makes a bus driver physically beating a young black woman a minor celebrity on YouTube. And it shames black women who strive to carve out their true space in the American social sphere…

So, what happens next? What does shame bring us all? Well, plainly, more shame. And so goes the vicious cycle of the crooked room.

To be continued…Shame

Buy the book here.