Saturday, December 26, 2015

I’m Black and I’m Proud, but It’s Complicated



I am a proud black woman! I have always been and will always be proud of my ethnicity, culture, community, complexions, hairstyles, language, shapes, communication, family, traditions, humor, and so much more. I am proud and appreciative of the foundation that has been laid for me. I am proud to have so many opportunities to be whatever I want to be and do whatever I want to do thanks to my parents and the many others who sacrificed for me so that I could.


What’s so complicated about that? I have had the privilege to experience life before any of the convenient technology that we consider to be necessities today. I enjoyed playing games outside with my neighbors without my parents having to worry about me. I remember being imaginative and creative. Yet, somehow I too have become dependent on the very technology that I shake my head at. I too have been entertained by the media that has the potential to negate that very pride. Why? Because, this very same technology has shone a devastating light on the black community.

My pride for blackness is frustrated and challenged every time a Sweet Brown is interviewed by a reporter in the field. Every time a new meme is created on “black twitter” and Instagram. Every time there is a fight or petty argument on somebody’s Housewives, Love & Hip Hop Wherever, Bad Girls, or any other reality show with an all-black cast. Every time there is a cell phone video of a fight at a fast food restaurant or someone stealing hair weaves from a store. Every time there’s a video of disrespectful students in a classroom. Every time a young rapper who dropped out of high school announces it and is barely able to put an intelligible sentence of five words together during an interview.  The list goes on and on.

Okay, but what does that have to do with MY pride? While these examples have nothing to do with me directly, the residue of them affects me daily. I have heard on many panel discussions that we are not a monolith, and I agree. Yet, it seems that due to our negative portrayal in the media we tend to be placed in a bubble and secretly expected to behave as such. So much so that it astonishes those who observe otherwise. For example, during my last year of teaching high school English, one of my seniors complimented me (or what he thought was a compliment) by saying that I spoke very well and he liked the way that I spoke. I said “Thank you” politely, but could not help but wonder if he only made that comment because I am a black woman teaching mainly Hispanic students who have had maybe only two other black teachers during his high school career. I wondered if he observed the speech patterns and vocabulary of his “other” teachers as well. Could this be because of our portrayal, or is it just his lack of exposure?

On another occasion many years earlier, I had gone out to eat with a colleague who was white and much older than me. In so many words, she expressed that she cared deeply for me and said that she wished that I started a family because she has observed so many women in education who would make excellent parents. She said that more people like me needed to have children. What I understood her to say indirectly was that because I was educated and my boyfriend had a secure job as a fire fighter, we should procreate to counteract some of the elements in the community that we were teaching in. I came to this conclusion because all of the examples of women that she wished had children, but were past child bearing age, were black women who we’d worked with.

 My point is, while I am proud of my blackness and everything that it represents, I am not proud of the images that the world sees of us. As it has been for what seems like forever, the good news and representatives of positive models of blackness are not as esteemed and advertised, or their light is dimmed by the foolishness that continues at a steady stream. It’s complicated because I will not try to explain or justify the behaviors of those who revel in the fame of mediocrity and embarrassment just for their 15 minutes and temporary wealth, yet I am consumed by it. It’s complicated because my example of pride and self-respect comes off as boring and weird and atypical. It’s complicated because even though we are viewed as a monolith, I can’t have this conversation with many people, including some of my loved ones and peers.


I’ve always admired my parents because they are educated, well-spoken, and hard-working. They take pride in their home and their family. When I first heard the hybrid word “boughetto” I would laugh on the inside thinking that that was exactly what my family was. A healthy balance of bougie and ghetto. Because of this, I can relate (not necessarily personally) to the images in the media to some degree, but I just wish that these images were not so consistently negative. I wish that people could separate fact from fiction in a world where the news that was once more reliable and less biased took a step away from entertainment, sensationalizing, and agenda pushing. 

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