For the last two days I've had the privilege of participating in a retreat. It was job-related, very enlightening, informative and exhausting. My brain is somewhat fried from information overload and I will share some of the wonderful ideas, thoughts, movements, etc. that I took away from the activity.
The poem below was recited by one of the speakers and I'll definitely introduce you to her very soon. But, in light of all that is happening to Genarlow Wilson and happened to Shaquanda Cotton, Marcus Dixon and many others, this poem is very fitting...
What Shall I Tell My Children Who Are Black
What shall I tell my children who are black
Of what it means to be a captive in this dark skin?
What shall I tell my dear one, fruit of my womb,
of how beautiful they are when everywhere they turn
they are faced with abhorrence of everything that is black.
The night is black and so is the boogyman.
Villains are black with black hearts.
A black cow gives no milk. A black hen lays no eggs.
Storm clouds, black, black is evil
and evil is black and devil's food is black...
What shall I tell my dear ones raised in a white world
A place where white has been made to represent
all that is good and pure and fine and decent,
where clouds are white and dolls, and heaven
surely is a white, white place with angels
robed in white, and cotton candy and ice cream
and milk and ruffled Sunday dresses
and dream houses and long sleek cadillacs
and Angel's food is white... all, all... white.
What can I say therefore, when my child
Comes home in tears because a playmate
Has called him black, big lipped, flatnosed and nappy headed?
What will he think when I dry his tears and whisper,
"Yes, that's true. But no less beautiful and dear."
How shall I lift up his head, get him to square
his shoulders, look his adversaries in the eye,
confident in the knowledge of his worth.
Serene under his sable skin and proud of his own beauty?
What can I do to give him strength
That he may come through life's adversities
As a whole human being unwarped and human in a world
Of biased laws and inhuman practices, that he might
Survive. And survive he must! For who knows?
Perhaps this black child here bears the genius
To discover the cure for... cancer
Or to chart the course for exploration of the universe.
So, he must survive for the the good of all humanity.
He must and will survive.
I have drunk deeply of late from the fountain
of my black culture, sat at the knee of and learned
from mother Africa, discovered the truth of my heritage.
The truth, so often obscured and omitted.
And I find I have much to say to my black children.
I will lift up their heads in proud blackness
with the story of their fathers and their father's fathers.
And I shall take them into a way back time
of kings and queens who ruled the Nile,
and measured the stars and discovered the laws of mathematics.
I will tell them of a black people upon whose backs have been built
the wealth of three continents.
I will tell him this and more.
And knowledge of his heritage shall be his weapon and his armor;
It will make him strong enough to win any battle he may face.
And since this story is so often obscured,
I must sacrifice to find it for my children,
even as I sacrifice to feed, clothe and shelter them.
So this I will do for them if I love them.
None will do it for me.
I must find the truth of heritage for myself and pass it on to them.
In years to come, I believe because I have armed them with the truth,
my children and their children's children will venerate me.
For it is the truth that will make us free!
By Dr Margaret Burroughs (http://www.thehistorymakers.com/biography/biography.asp?bioindex=39&category=artMakers), the founder of
the DuSable Museum of African American History and Art in Chicago, IL,
the first Black museum in the United States
I distinctly remember hearing that James Brown song in the mornings on my way to school and in the afternoons on my way home. That was “back in the day” as the kids say now. I was too young to really understand its significance back then, but I do “get it”now.
Almost forty years later, do Black folk really believe that song or was it just lyrics over a tight beat? If we are truly Black and proud, why in the year 2007 do we continue to have conversations about light skin vs. dark skin and good hair vs. bad hair?
Inarguably, there are realities beyond our control and history that cannot be changed. We can make tremendous change, however, if we would simply stop perpetuating self-hatred, negativity and ignorance. One person at a time; no mass marches, rallies or boycotts required.
BLACK IS BEAUTIFUL - AS LONG AS IT'S TAMABLEBy Nicole Sealey
In response to the question, do Black women who wear their hair in its natural state do so for genuine political reasons?, Talitha Coverson, a recent FAMU graduate, said, "In the 1960s and 70s the political statement was defiance and recognition of Black beauty. Today, it does serve as a political statement; however, it is more indirect not necessarily intentional, but by all means the end result is highly political." With some exceptions, prior to and following the 1960s and early 1970s, there really was no such philosophy as "Black is Beautiful." The very concept, in terms of Black and White thought, was in itself an oxymoron. Black was far from beautiful and Black attributes even further. In popular "beauty culture", natural Black hair was and is perceived as an insignia of inferiority.
The "politics" of Black hair is an extremely controversial subject matter. Black people, for the most part, are as hair-struck as they are color-struck and suffer from as many hair-complexes as they do color-complexes. Black men and women alike have internalized Western notions of beauty, particularly in regards to "good" and "bad" hair. Black males are certainly not exempt from criticism when it comes to Black women's hair. The ways in which Black women desire to -or not to- wear their hair is a direct result of not only centuries of their colonial conditioning, but of Black men's conditioning as well. Essentially, Black men influence beauty culture, particularly Black female hair culture. In general, Black men are mostly attracted to light-skinned, long straight-haired women. Due to Black men's socialized preference, Black women, seeking both approval and love, transform themselves accordingly.
In response to the question, how do Black men influence the ways in which Black women wear their hair?, Rashad Broomfield, a senior at the University of South Florida, answered "In general, women do their hair to reflect what men want and vice versa." Black women seem to bear the brunt of these racist superficial Eurocentric standards. In Hair Matters: Beauty, Power, and Black Women's Consciousness, author Ingrid Banks notes, "What is deemed desirable is measured against white standards of beauty, which include long and straight hair (usually blonde), that is, hair that is not kinky or nappy." To live up to these standards -or rather limitations- of beauty, Black women, unconsciously enthused, straighten/perm or hot comb their hair. Black women's preoccupation with Eurocentric beauty culture is reflected in, not only the amounts of bleaching products that Black women purchase, but also in the sales of hair straightening merchandise (i.e. African Pride, Dark & Lovely, Just 4 Me, Soft & Beautiful, et cetera).
There is a lot of power in words and greater politics in vocabulary and the meaning of language. The Brand names of the previously mentioned straightening agents suggest, African/Black inadequacy. The Brand name African Pride is a critical paradox. How can one take pride in their culture, yet seek ways in which to abandon and/or undermine it? Dark & Lovely insinuates that if one is in fact "Dark," since Blackness is a characteristic of otherness/ugliness, there is a slight hope that they can be a tad "lovely" by straightening their hair. Just 4 Me is neither for me nor my Black/African sisters because it censures rather than celebrates natural Black hair. Natural Black hair has been and is already Soft and Beautiful. There is no need for chemically false softness or socialized beauty.
These agents reiterate and illustrate a black/white dichotomy wherein white is the standard by which people of color, Black people in particular, are critically and aesthetically assessed. Ayanla D. Byrd and Lori L. Tharps, authors of Hair Story: Untangling the roots of Black hair in America, comments "The pervasiveness of what bell hooks terms th[e] 'dull dish that is mainstream White culture' has succeeded in keeping many people unaware of the… unique culture of Black hair." Although the majority of Black women who have chemically processed hair have from a very young age had their hair chemically "treated," most Black women who chemically "treat" their hair claim that they do so for both "manageability" and "versatility;" however, their argument is misleading because at such young ages one generally is not afforded the opportunity of choice and if one made such a choice it would be reflective of and influenced by their peers. Therefore, they cannot know how manageable and/or versatile their hair, in its natural state, really is. Furthermore, they cannot argue that it is their "personal choice" when in fact they were not given a choice and if so were not cognizant of the choice chosen.
When asked, do Black women who wear their hair in its natural state demonstrate that they are more "conscious" than the average Black woman?, Nyota Lormine, a junior at the University of South Florida, replied "In a way they do, but at the same time there are those sisters that do it for fashion. Some chemically processed sisters are "conscious," but they choose not to take themselves out of that particular prison for "manageability." Nonetheless, the straightening of Black hair does not necessitate nor indicate lower levels of "consciousness." Black people, Black women specifically, must understand the justifications, implications, and ramifications of chemically processing their hair. Historically and inadvertently, hair has been a tool used to justify African otherness, which subsequently warranted enslavement and later disenfranchisement. Due to the above mentioned historical context, natural Black hair is indicative, consciously or unconsciously, of a political/subversive agenda. Black hair is not only an indictment of mainstream beauty mores, but also symbolizes self-confidence. Black women who wear their hair naturally tend to exude higher levels of self-assurance.
When asked, what does wearing your hair natural mean to you?, Heru Holloway, a former FIU student commented, "It is an expression of self. It is also rooted in an acceptance of who I am mentally. Being that standards of beauty are Eurocentric, for me wearing my hair naturally is a conscientious undertaking." Traditionally, Western beauty mores have been utilized to excuse the treatment of Africans by Europeans. Although standards of beauty are such that they exclude African/Black people, being knowledgeable of these artificial and biased standards and recognizing that Black, in its natural state, is, in fact, beautiful allows for a paradigm shift -or dissolution- that includes all people. This very necessary paradigm shift, develops and gains momentum with every kinky, curly, wavy, and nappy natural.
“The Negro revolution is controlled by foxy white liberals, by the Government itself. But the Black Revolution is controlled only by God.” ---Malcolm X
