100 Issues for 100 Days: #82

#82: Precious

UPDATED: Way more interesting analysis here.

The movie Precious opened in theaters yesterday. I've seen a lot of articles discussing the film and the book Push that it's based on. There are interviews with the author of the book as well as the director of the film Lee Daniels and his backers, Oprah Winfrey and Tyler Perry. There's also a lot of criticism about colorism in the casting as well as the overall adaptation from book to film. I plan on seeing the film (Lenny Kravitz being in it kind of sealed the deal) and I'm trying to go into it with an open-mind but one of the comments that I read about the film rings true with me. When discussing the "I am Precious" marketing campaign for the film, one person commented:

I finally figured out that Tyler and Oprah actually DO think that abuse and exploitation are Black women’s natural state of being, likely because of their personal histories.

I am NOT Precious. If I was, I couldn’t be horrified by the story. If I WAS Precious, I would likely think that my existence was the rule for everybody. Why would I believe anything different?

After going to see Good Hair a few weeks ago, I have to agree with this statement. I get that it's often hard to separate the "art" and the "artist", but I'm tired of having certain people's experiences of Blackness foisted on me. I sat through Chris Rock telling me how Black women are high maintenance and willing to put harsh chemicals into babies' heads in order to have straight hair. Is it true for some? Yes. But that is not every Black woman's experience.

Similarly, I feel like Precious is just continuing a long line of portrayals of Black women as victims. We're not all Celie and we're not all Precious. As an artist is my story less valid because I've never been victimized? I'm not invalidating the homelessness that Tyler Perry experienced or the abuse Oprah Winfrey suffered but that is not the universal experience of Black folks.

When I say "I am precious", it's because I understand that as a person, my experience is valid, my life is worth living, and that I am only one of many who are equally precious. But I don't try to make the reality of my Blackness speak for others. A lot of people talk about getting past racism and victimization and I think part of that is understanding that these things are not okay. Rape, incest, abuse, division amongst color lines, internalized oppression; these things exist but they are not right, nor are they universal to everyone's existence. Yes, stories like Precious' happen every day but they are not the norm. They need to be brought to light but not glorified, not if we're trying to make sure these stories aren't needed one day.

100 Issues for 100 Days: #57

#57: Good Hair

If you haven't heard, hair is a big thing in the Black community. When I graduated college, I was going coming off of a spring that included at least 3 major papers, an important family death and a belabored illness. Needless to say, I cut off all my hair.


I still refer to that as my Grown & Sexy summer. At first, I thought I'd lost my mind and I looked like a boy. But that was far from the response that I got.


After my hair started to grow out, I wore it mostly in twists. And for the past few years, it's gotten stronger and healthier. But I tend to get restless.



For the past few weeks, I've been wearing my hair in a kind of crinkled 'fro. I'll admit that I definitely went through times where I complained about my hair. I wanted it to be straight, or curly or more manageable or longer. But I don't think I've ever thought of my hair as bad. When I think about all the things that my hair has been through, even in just the past few years, I know that despite it all my hair is strong and beautiful. I'm excited to see Chris Rock's film, Good Hair, because I love to explore the issues of hair. What I hope is that when people see the movie they don't ome away feeling ashamed of their hair decisions but instead feel empowered. Because ultimately it's about feeling good.

100 Issues for 100 Days: #21

#21: Flossy, Flossy

This morning I woke up and the first thing I saw when I turned on the television was a documentary called Youth Knows No Pain. It's a documentary made by the daughter of a plastic surgeon as she ponders the multi-billion dollar anti-aging industry which includes, injectables, creams and full-on surgery.

Although I found the documentary pretty well-rounded and it featured lots of different points of view, one thing was definitely visually apparent, even though it was unspoken: this is a White person's problem. In the entire time I watched only three of the people I saw were of color, one Black woman, one Asian male and one Latina. Now this doesn't mean I believe only White people worry about aging but there's clearly some color and class hierarchy driving this industry.

Now I could go to that old stand-by "Black don't crack" but I think essentially, cosmetics are expensive. Cosmetic surgery, even the injectables, is pretty cost prohibitive. The average price for Botox is $350-$500 per area. Even with "recession specials", cosmetic surgery is hard for the average American to afford without foregoing some other aspect of their lives. In a 2008 survey by the American Society of Plastic Surgeons, they found that wile White Americans comprise 67% of the population, they account for 78% of plastic surgeries. Blacks are 13% of the population and 6% of plastic surgery patients. And the industry projected figures to drop due to the recession.

One important aspect the documentary did bring up was the fact that because health insurance is linked to our jobs, people feel the need to keep themselves looking young and vital in order to preserve their jobs and by-proxy, their health insurance. I wonder if some people of color don't worry about Botox since they are more likely to not have health insurance?

Essentially, that's what the film seemed to come down to for me. Cosmetic surgery is something you do if you have the time to worry about what you look like. And you would have the time to do that if you didn't have to worry about school loans, job security or where your next meal was coming from.

Ironically, the woman who made the documentary was the daughter of a famoous plastic surgeon who always told her she was beautiful. And although she never tried anything other than creams until she made this film, she was pretty obsessed with aging. I wonder if as a culture we've come to a point where we need something, anything to focus on and when the things around us fall into place we turn that obsessive need inward. Will my life fall into place one day and suddenly I'll find myself searching for Botox injection?

Who missed the memo?

2009 is supposed to be the year of change, hope and innovation. That's what we've been hearing about and with the inauguration of President-Elect Obama looming, this was supposed to signal a turning point for race relations in this country. So why was a Black man shot by a police officer while he was on his stomach with his hands behind his back on the very first day of this year of hope?

Since the shooting of Oscar Grant, no action has been taken by the BART police or the city of Oakland to investigate or prosecute the officer who fired his gun. Despite video evidence that is splashed across news media and YouTube, the officer has been allowed to resign and the mayor only released a statement after protests turned to near riots. All this only 7 days into the year of change.

Sadder still is the story of Kalynn Moore, a New Jersey mother who not only experienced the sudden death of her son in childbirth but was further horrified to learn that the hospital had thrown the infant's body out with the trash. And to top it all off, the hospital has given up the search for the body.

I am not a person who likes to shout racism, every time a Black person is wronged but these are two situations where not only the authorities but the media have failed to do what they are charged to. Oscar Grant was a young father who was shot in the back, yet no steps have been taken to investigate his death, and the media has chosen to portray him and the people of Oakland as thuggish and deserving of such treatment. Kalynn Moore has seen first hand that the people in power view both her and her child as disposable not even worthy of search that lasted more than a week. I hate to sound pessimistic but I honestly believe if this child had been White, there would have been a prolonged and exhaustive search for its body. It would be national news and people would be holding vigils. Because that is the value of a White life in this country.

If we hope that 2009 will truly be a year of change then we need to be that change. The United States has been talking about an American dream that cannot be realized when the lives of some Americans are worth more than others. I'm happy for President Obama but we are not all Barack Obama, we're much closer to being Oscar Grants and Kalynn Moores. "Hope"fully, that will "change".

Brothers & Sisters

This year marks the 100th anniversary of the longest running Black sorority Alpha Kappa Alpha, typically known as AKA. To celebrate this milestone, Mattel is releasing the AKA Barbie. After reading about this at Jezebel and reading some of the comments I started to really think about the history of Black organizations and some of the deep conflicts I have with them.

Black organizations in this country have an illustrious history in the United States, many forming at places and times when just the idea of creating spaces for Black people to excel and challenge the minority was nearly unheard of. But at the same time, so many organizations were preoccupied with the "image" that they were projecting to the same majority, which is why we have the prevalence of "paper-bag" tests and other standards which devalue Black beauty and traits. And I'm being completely open here. These practices were not limited to one specific organization or group. And this is not a condemnation of the AKAs. Some of the women I most admire are sisters of the organization. But ...

This is an issue that many Black organizations would like to sweep under the rug. And just as I believe we (Black people) will never be free until all people are free; I, too, believe that Black people will never be mentally and emotionally free until the -isms and schisms within our community are addressed. Every stage of the fight for civil rights and equality has been marred by colorism, sexism and homophobia and what most recent history books will tell us is that we, sometimes moreso than our oppressors, are good at covering up these injustices.

During my college career one of my best experiences was the Third World Transition Program (TWTP). What I loved about TWTP was that it was the first time I'd ever seen people openly and honestly admit to the various prejudices that exist among communities of color, without placing blame on White people. It wasn't just about acknowledging how we'd been oppressed by the majority but also coming to terms with how we continue to oppress ourselves and each other. Those are the types of discussions we need to be having. What's the point of gaining the power to oppress ourselves?