#18 Say It Loud: Still Black and Proud
In the introduction to this blog I specifically call myself Black as opposed to African-American but I don't explain what that means. Many people might say that there isn't a difference, but there is a distinct difference. Actually there are several differences. The differences between Blacks, African-Americans, Niggas, Negroes and AfriKans is another essay all by itself. I'll just clarify why no "identifier" suits me except for being Black(notice the capitalization)
I was born Black. My parents were ex-revolutionaries who embodied the "Black is Beautiful" ethos. They didn't wear berets and give black power salutes every five minutes but there was an appreciation for "Blackness" that permeated our home. There were paintings of and by black people, books that explored varied subjects but centered on Black people and above all there was a palpable feeling that being Black was being blessed. Regardless of where my parents were, they were proud to be who they were, and they understood that unlike negro, colored or the other monikers given to the descendents of slaves in America, black was an identity chosen by black people, not assigned by whites. Black, a traditionally negative word/description was snatched out of the universe and worn on the lapel of anyone that was "conscious". By referring to themselves as Black people they forced the world to recognize that those who had been slaves weren't slaves anymore. The word was instantly upended and what was seen as negative became a positive. Black was a declaration of being and the upturning of a negative perception into a positive identity. I was born into that identity. I don't think anyone I grew up near even used the words colored or negro. That shit was as foreign to me as white people tellin' my father what to do in his own house and that never happened.
In 1984, Jesse "Baby-Daddy" Jackson made a rousing speech at the Democratic Convention. I don't know what he talked about but I do know that was the birth of the phrase African-American. I didn't like that shit from the moment I heard it. It sounded generic and weak to me. Even though people, black people, started using it and it began to creep into the popular lexicon, the term African-American(for the purpose of time and space I'll use A-A for short) seemed like a step backwards. There was Jesse on the podium smilin' and grinnin' and starting a popular debate among people about this new hyphenated phrase. I guess he thought that the crack epidemic, unemployment and the teen pregnancy rate weren't that important, or at least not as important as a racial name change. Thanks Jesse for setting a standard for us all--grinnin bastard.
Black is universal, ubiquitous, powerful and infinite. African-American is...well, hyphenated and that's the best I can say. As a descriptor it's as accurate as any of the racial/ethnic hyphenations. It's problem is in it's narrowness. Even though it's an accurate description of slave descendents in the US it cuts us off from the rest of the diaspora. Although it may be an accurate description it is a narrow definition for our people and I hardly ever use it. What's worse is that it confuses children. If you don't think so I challenge you to get a picture of Nelson Mandela show it to anyone born after 1984 and ask his ethnicity. At least 8 out of 10 respondents will call Mandela African-American. I've done it and it's scary. What that tells me is that the A-A designation is worse than generic. No Black person from the continent wants to be A-A in the first place and that description robs them of their history and places them in a pot they don't belong in.
It could be argued that Black is generic too and it is but there is one vital difference. Black is flexible and inclusive. Nelson Mandela will never be African-American, but he'll be Black forever. Some could say that being A-A is a way to claim and combine the unique perspectives and history that produced and shaped black people in the US. I do believe that may have been one of the points Jesse was trying to make. The reason I don't buy it personally is that the whole western hemisphere was covered with stolen Africans and their decendents. There is no country on this side of the Atlantic that was not touched by slavery and there is no country that does not have the marks of the slave trade all over it. Even Canada, who abolished slavery and slave trading relativly early, still feels its effects because slaves would run there to be free. The history of black slavery is not just the history of the civil war, abolitionists, Frederick Douglas et. al., and reconstruction. It isn't a story just told in English either. Blacks in the USA are just a part of a larger story. It is a story of 4 continents, dozens of countries, untold numbers of African ethnic groups, and culture that still binds us together.
I don't get offended when I hear A-A, nor do I correct people when they say it. My position isn't to re-evangelize the term Black and make everyone follow my lead. No-that's Jesse Jackson's job and he has kids to feed. My preference is personal and internal. I am an American citizen-and always will be, but that's not all I am. I am smart enough to know that there are cultural connections that I share with Black people all over the world. Our specific histories may be different but we all spring from the same well. I am a child of Africa and America but just jamming those words together does nothing to make me more of either. I'm Black in America, in Europe, in Africa, in Asia and if I went to Antarctica I'd still be Black--and Black people understand.
I was born Black. My parents were ex-revolutionaries who embodied the "Black is Beautiful" ethos. They didn't wear berets and give black power salutes every five minutes but there was an appreciation for "Blackness" that permeated our home. There were paintings of and by black people, books that explored varied subjects but centered on Black people and above all there was a palpable feeling that being Black was being blessed. Regardless of where my parents were, they were proud to be who they were, and they understood that unlike negro, colored or the other monikers given to the descendents of slaves in America, black was an identity chosen by black people, not assigned by whites. Black, a traditionally negative word/description was snatched out of the universe and worn on the lapel of anyone that was "conscious". By referring to themselves as Black people they forced the world to recognize that those who had been slaves weren't slaves anymore. The word was instantly upended and what was seen as negative became a positive. Black was a declaration of being and the upturning of a negative perception into a positive identity. I was born into that identity. I don't think anyone I grew up near even used the words colored or negro. That shit was as foreign to me as white people tellin' my father what to do in his own house and that never happened.
In 1984, Jesse "Baby-Daddy" Jackson made a rousing speech at the Democratic Convention. I don't know what he talked about but I do know that was the birth of the phrase African-American. I didn't like that shit from the moment I heard it. It sounded generic and weak to me. Even though people, black people, started using it and it began to creep into the popular lexicon, the term African-American(for the purpose of time and space I'll use A-A for short) seemed like a step backwards. There was Jesse on the podium smilin' and grinnin' and starting a popular debate among people about this new hyphenated phrase. I guess he thought that the crack epidemic, unemployment and the teen pregnancy rate weren't that important, or at least not as important as a racial name change. Thanks Jesse for setting a standard for us all--grinnin bastard.
Black is universal, ubiquitous, powerful and infinite. African-American is...well, hyphenated and that's the best I can say. As a descriptor it's as accurate as any of the racial/ethnic hyphenations. It's problem is in it's narrowness. Even though it's an accurate description of slave descendents in the US it cuts us off from the rest of the diaspora. Although it may be an accurate description it is a narrow definition for our people and I hardly ever use it. What's worse is that it confuses children. If you don't think so I challenge you to get a picture of Nelson Mandela show it to anyone born after 1984 and ask his ethnicity. At least 8 out of 10 respondents will call Mandela African-American. I've done it and it's scary. What that tells me is that the A-A designation is worse than generic. No Black person from the continent wants to be A-A in the first place and that description robs them of their history and places them in a pot they don't belong in.
It could be argued that Black is generic too and it is but there is one vital difference. Black is flexible and inclusive. Nelson Mandela will never be African-American, but he'll be Black forever. Some could say that being A-A is a way to claim and combine the unique perspectives and history that produced and shaped black people in the US. I do believe that may have been one of the points Jesse was trying to make. The reason I don't buy it personally is that the whole western hemisphere was covered with stolen Africans and their decendents. There is no country on this side of the Atlantic that was not touched by slavery and there is no country that does not have the marks of the slave trade all over it. Even Canada, who abolished slavery and slave trading relativly early, still feels its effects because slaves would run there to be free. The history of black slavery is not just the history of the civil war, abolitionists, Frederick Douglas et. al., and reconstruction. It isn't a story just told in English either. Blacks in the USA are just a part of a larger story. It is a story of 4 continents, dozens of countries, untold numbers of African ethnic groups, and culture that still binds us together.
I don't get offended when I hear A-A, nor do I correct people when they say it. My position isn't to re-evangelize the term Black and make everyone follow my lead. No-that's Jesse Jackson's job and he has kids to feed. My preference is personal and internal. I am an American citizen-and always will be, but that's not all I am. I am smart enough to know that there are cultural connections that I share with Black people all over the world. Our specific histories may be different but we all spring from the same well. I am a child of Africa and America but just jamming those words together does nothing to make me more of either. I'm Black in America, in Europe, in Africa, in Asia and if I went to Antarctica I'd still be Black--and Black people understand.
posted by J.Bailey | 8:17 AM
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