Light-skinned-ed Girl

Why is this blog called Light-skinned-ed Girl?

I was 11 the first time I heard the term "light-skinned-ed."  (And yes, the kids said it with the extra "ed.")

My family had just moved and we were living in a mostly black community for the first time. Someone had asked me the now-familiar question "What are you?"  I had learned pretty quickly that when people asked they wanted to know what race I was; why did I look the way I did?  "Black and white," I'd said.  "Oh," the girl said, "I thought you were just light-skinned-ed."

It baffled me at the time.

Now, I claim the term as my invitation or pass into black womanhood.  (I say black womanhood specifically because I felt most estranged from black women growing up--even though I wanted so much to belong.)

When I claim my light-skinned-ed-ness, it's not to valorize my skin color, but to accept the way that in some ways I belong to the world of black womanhood.  I can look like this and not have to Prove my allegiance.

Yes, well, then why claim it at all?  Why not be on firm ground and simply identify as a black woman?  Many women -- more light-skinned-ed than I -- have done that through the ages.  The answer is simply that it would negate my actual experience -- it doesn't tell the whole of the story I want to tell.

It's complicated this naming business.  I'm not sure that I've figured it out completely myself. 

The Black Family in the Obama Age

A reporter reached out to me for a story about the impact of the First Family being black.  Did I think it would change anything?  Well, there will be one more black couple for Essence to photograph for its black love cover.  

But he asked another question: did it make a difference that Michelle Obama is "not of a different race" or "ethnically ambiguous"?  I knew what he was getting at.  Successful black man doesn't marry white woman.  That's news!  Well, look, the news is I don't buy into that thinking anymore.  Believe me there was a (self-hating) stint during which I did.  I think it's time for women of color to give up the drama about the "white wife."  And I think we are.  Thoughts?

Zadi Smith on Black Authenticity

If I had known about writer Zadi Smith's talk last night at the New York Public Library, I surely would have been there.  But, lucky for me (and you), here is the audio recording! 

Wandering in the Red States in the Obama Age

We've been wandering through a very red state.  I have been on my ps & qs for fear of running into something I didn't want to run into.  Note: I did not go to the rope museum in Sheridan; the history of black people and ropes is not one I would like to re-live.  And I did not go to the Mint Bar, or to the bluegrass music bar--not knowing whether something (a word, a look, an anything) could disturb my peace and throw me off my game as I wrote.  I did return to the Silver Spur this week with my "white gang" as Kate called it--and found it a very different place than just a month ago.  I wasn't the one who integrated it.  There were some other colored folks (one and a half) in attendance that day.  How surprised was I?  And then yesterday, on the border of Wyoming and Idaho, we stopped for gas and a big soft drink with ice (for me it is always Diet Pepsi).  We commented on how cheap the gas was ($2.15/gallon--) and a woman behind us in line said: "It's great.  I hope my man Obama keeps the prices coming down."  Now, I understand this could have been patronizing.  But I didn't take it that way because she kept talking to us--chit chat--but she continued the conversation.  It was a really cool moment for me because I thought: now (white) folks have a way to connect with black people with whom they may not know how to connect.  Okay, yeah, this is naive.  And maybe she was making fun.  Even at the integrated Silver Spur there hung on the bulletin board a large facsimile of a $50 bill with a Sambo face instead of a president's.  But I liked being naive today.  I liked to know that I didn't have to be on edge.

Nigroids! You can eat them!

One of my favorite bloggers, Amanda at Marvelous Mixed Race Hair, found this interesting product at her local drugstore.  She writes: "I couldn't believe my eyes. I had to buy them to see if the name was just a coincidence, but guess what?  They are black.  Tiny little jet black pastilles to help a sore throat.  I feel as if I've travelled back in time to the 1960's!"

Wikipedia explains that Nigroids are licorice-based lozenges marketed to singers for "clarity of voice."

Thanks Amanda!

"Racist or Whatever You Want to Call It"

A (white) woman interviewed on NPR this morning explained that she had gone to school with black people and hadn't ever thought about being "racist or whatever you want to call it" --but still, she wouldn't vote for Obama because he would be "for the blacks." 

What do we call that but racist?  First, Obama is running for office of the President of the whole entire United States (including President of his white relatives).  Second, what would be good for African-Americans that would be detrimental necessarily to whites?

I can only assume the interviewee has stereotypes (racist stereotypes) about black people that has led her to this conclusion.  Racist.

It is a strange time we live in now--one is allowed to be as outraged by being called a racist as one is if one is a victim of racism.  So change the word--put lipstick on the pig of a word, but let's make sure we address the truth of the matter!

Read New York Times columnist Nicholas Kristof's Race with Racism from Sunday's edition.  Kristof writes: "[A] careful survey completed last month by Stanford University, with The Associated Press and Yahoo, suggested that Mr. Obama’s support would be about six percentage points higher if he were white. That’s significant but surmountable . . . [M]ost of the votes that Mr. Obama actually loses belong to well-meaning whites who believe in racial equality and have no objection to electing a black person as president — yet who discriminate unconsciously."

It's "whatever you call it" at play.  Psychologists call it aversive racism.

Kristof concludes: "One lesson from this research is that racial biases are deeply embedded within us, more so than many whites believe. But another lesson, a historical one, is that we can overcome unconscious bias. That’s what happened with the decline in prejudice against Catholics after the candidacy of John F. Kennedy in 1960.

It just might happen again, this time with race."

I hope his hopeful sentiment is right.

 

Black Theatre and its Negro Ensemble Company Past

Today I saw the first of the season-long celebration of the Negro Ensemble Company plays being produced at New York's Signature Theatre.  For those who don't know, NEC was the premiere theatre company for playwrights and actors.  It was Denzel Washington's training ground.  Need I say more?

What a great way to kick off the season.  First Breeze of Summer, written by Leslie Lee, was directed by Ruben Santiago-Hudson and stars Lesley Uggams.  The story, set in 1977, traces the life of the family matriarch who is in her final days.  What was her real legacy? Can her children and grandchildren find value in the truth of her story, the story of a Southern young woman striver who believed above all in love? 

The play--in its structure--is a little uneven, but the cast--an incredible cast--still makes it work.  Kudos to the actress who plays the younger Leslie Uggams, Yaya DaCosta (a former contestant on America's Next Top Model)!  She is stunning and an incredibly charming and fiery force on stage.

I wrote my master's thesis on the future of black theatre.  I chronicled a year in the life of NEC (which was really a theatre company in name only) and Crossroads--based in New Jersey--which opened a state-of-the-art theatre space that year.  Though it was sad to see that the formidable NEC was struggling to find funding, I found hope in the fact that Crossroads had solid community and state support and a healthy financial bottom line.

Fifteen years later: Crossroads is gone.  But NEC's legacy lives on in this wonderful season at Signature.  Tickets are only $20.  If you're in New York City this season, I suggest that you check it out.

We Are Respectable Negroes: Guidebooks for Etiquette

The Emily Post I bought at age 14--with my own money--is well-thumbed.  I did not grow up bourgeois, but thought that through study, I might one day join the ranks.  Already I was a great believer in the importance (and power) of correspondence and the thank-you note.  Miss Post taught me to enjoy practicing the art of conversation (not while chewing) and dining with good cutlery and fine dinnerware with multiple courses.

The past few days I've been having a great time reading etiquette guides of the black middle class from the early 1900s.  I blogged about The Colored Girl Beautiful (1916) yesterday.  Today, you can find some gems from two other etiquette guidebooks for "colored" folks below.  In Edward S. Green's 1920 National Capital Code of Etiquette, you'll find charming photographs and instructions on dressing, table manners, letter-writing, and proper conduct at the theatre and balls.  In Silas X. Floyd's Short Stories for Colored People Both Old and Young, you'll find great illustrations, parables and exhortations to abide by good manners in public and at home.

from National Capital Code of Etiquette (1920):

"The reader of this book who earnestly strives to follow its teachings so far as possible will be as near correct as it is possible to be in this imperfect wolrd.  We consider it a great pleasure and our special privilege to respectfully dedicate this volume to THE COLORED RACE." 

• Do not whistle or hum to yourself when on the street.
• Avoid onions or tobacco when you contemplate making a social call on ladies.
• Above all things, do not pick your teeth, clean your finger nails or scratch your head in public.
• If a person appears in public with a bruised countenance or other blemish, do not gaze at the unfortunate individual fixedly, nor inquire as to how it happened.  It is generally bad enough without having to add unpleasant explanations.
• Ladies, bear in mind that "Familiarity breeds contempt."

from Short Stories for Colored People Both Old and Young (1920): 

• What would happen if tomorrow everyone were to keep all his promises and fulfill all his engagements?  I think it would make a new world at once.
• Never think of yourself, whoever you are, of small importance.  Never think that it is of little account whether you are good or bad, or what your example is to others.
• If there is one idea for which more than any other the public school system should stand, it is the idea of self-help.  Self-help is the best kind of help in the world and one cannot learn this lesson too early in life.
• The "Don't Care" Girl: About the worst girl in all this world is the girl who doesn't care what people think or say about her conduct; the girl who goes to every "hop," to every party, who stays out late at night with the boys, who hangs over the gate and talks to them, and who cuts a number of foolish capers, and then when any one speaks to her, shoots her head 'way up in the air, and turns up her nose, if she can, and says boldy: "Oh, I don't care; nobody has anything to do with me!"  She is the worst girl in the world, and she will never come to any good end. 

These books are both charming and entertaining, but there is a disturbing undertone to them given when they were written.

The etiquette books, quaint in tone, appeared during a violent and tumultuous time for African-Americans.  In fact, Floyd's book seems dangerously naive--he seems to suggest that through good manners will conquer all evils including the evil of lynching.  "My dear boys and girls," he writes, "I have written nearly one hundred stories for this book and I have not said one word about the so-called Race Problem.  I have done this on purpose.  I believe that the less you think about the troubles of the race and the less you talk about them and the more time you spend in hard and honest work, believe in God and trusting him for the future, the better it will be for all concerned.

"I know, of course, that the sufferings which are inflicted upon the colored people in this country are many and grievous . . . Lynchings are on the increase.  Not only our men but our women are being burned at the stake?  What shall we do?  . . . In spite of prejudice; in spite of proscription; in spite of nameless insults and injuries, we cannot as a race, afford to do wrong . . . we can afford to be patient."

Patience, politeness, and the "Race Problem."  I wonder whether these notions are animating the political discussions today as this historic Democratic National Convention begins.

The Colored Girl Beautiful: Learning My Ps & Qs Old-School

I'm delighting in a read of The Colored Girl Beautiful, a 1916 etiquette book for African-American girls written by Madame E. Azalia Hackley.  The book's charming chapter titles include: "Self-Control," "Her Relationship with Men," "Laws of Attraction--Vibrations," and "Deep-Breathing" (in which Hackley exhorts her young readers to breathe deeply as a habit because it "cultivates Personality & Personal Magnetism and thus makes one attractive.")

It's a fascinating little book which points out how tightly associated etiquette was considered for racial pride and uplift.  "A woman's mind should always be filled with a life plan, else she is in danger.  A busy woman is generally a safe woman," writers Hackley.  "She must find her life work and keep busy.  Even a hobby is better than nothing if time hangs on her hands.  She should do something with all her might and not delay, for Time is flying.  A colored woman especially should have some purpose in her life to further race advancement.  It should not only be a high purpose but it should be something real."

There are so many fascinating as well as  infuriating passages.  Here's a list of highlights and a link to download the whole book (pdf) if you'd like to read it.

• "The two attractive periods in a woman's life are girlhood and maturity.  If girlhood is not sufficiently attractive a girl may go into beauty training for maturity . . . The fair, fat, and forty age is no longer dreaded."



• "No one should ever scorn a colored working woman.  She has been the bone and sinew of the race.  She has built the churches, helped the schools and has made the race what it is.  The pioneer colored woman in most instances has helped make the wealth that many colored families enjoy, today."

• "Colored people are credited with having the finest teeth in the world.  The obligation of this gift is cleanliness and preservation of this attractive gift."

• "A woman who marries and does not intend to have children is merely an object of convenience who has sold herself."

Download The_Colored_Girl_Beautiful.pdf

Photo by Omega418 via Flickr.

Raced Me

In response to a recent post, "You Really Are Black," a trusted reader commented: "i find that rarely, if ever, do i read of your struggles with 'whiteness' or 'danish-ness'. that part of your identity seems completely uncomplicated and free and natural in its expression, whereas your relationship to blackness is . . . fraught. maybe i am missing something. i just find it curious."

Her comment so intrigued me I emailed her immediately: "[This] is really insightful.  I’m going to mull this over a bit -- I would say mostly it was because I didn’t know about being black (myself or what it meant for others) until I was about 11.  In a way, I suppose I associate my Danish-ness (and I wouldn’t ever have called it whiteness until moving to the States at 11) with childish innocence.  My blackness was something that I had to learn and also that stripped me of my Danish-ness ---meaning suddenly my Danish-ness didn’t matter – I was simply light-skinned-ed and also ignorant of what my culture “should” be.  Hmmm . . . those are off-the-cuff impressions.  But this sure is making me think – as soon as I figure it out enough – these thoughts –I hope deeper thoughts may show up in a post . . . "

After a week of mulling, I am still not able Iand am bothered by my inability) to shape a better answer.  I am struck by her use of the word "fraught"--(adj. 1. Filled with a specified element or elements; charged.  2. Fully provided. (That one doesn't fit; but then check out the next one.) 3.  Marked by distress; upsetting.)  In terms of my writing, I do focus on the difficulty of taking on blackness (or black identity).  I suppose that the distress comes from trying to come to terms with the difference between what it means for others and what it means for myself. 

My Danish-ness becomes more and more complicated as I grow older.  I have become more and more American--living here, losing my accent, and language bit by bit.  Still, unlike my "black identity,"  it feels more like the bedrock of who I am --it is the deepest soil within me. 

James Baldwin spoke of leaving the United States for France, and suddenly finding a new freedom for his thoughts.  " . . . [W]hen I hear 'Ignore race.'  Well, it took me a long time to do that, and perhaps I would never have been able to do it if I hadn't left America.  I know I wouldn't have been able to do it if I hadn't left America . . . I realized one day that somebody asked me about a friend of mine who, in fact, when I thought about it, is probably North African, but I really did not remember whether he was white or black.  It simply had never occurred to me.  The question had never been in my mind.  Never in my mind.  I really had a terrible tiime.  I suddenly felt as though I were lost.  My whole frame of reference all the years I was growing up had been black and white.  You know, you always knew who was white and who was black.  But suddenly I didn't have it; suddenly that frame of reference had gone.  And in a funny way--and I don't know how to make sense of this--as far as I could tell, as far as I can tell till this hour, once that has happened to you, it never comes back." 

I grew up for the most part overseas (on military bases or near them).  I not only Ignored Race, I didn't even learn about the black-white frame of reference until age 11--and when it happened, it was like a hood came down on my thoughts.  I had to suddenly recognize this thing called being black and conform my thoughts to what that meant for other people.  (I mean this was the unspoken directive of both black and white people.) 

My experience was further complicated by the fact that I identified as American.  In my naivete or foolishness, I was able to be both American and Danish.  Being black it seemed, suddenly provided no room for either of those identities.  I needed to know about race to 1) demonstrate my allegiance (that I was not better than other black people); 2) keep me safe (so that I would be taught about how to avoid, recognize, deal with racism); and 3) keep me in my "place" (so that I would not get too big for my britches--black and white lessons).   So, yes, fraught.  Racial identity, a backward racial frame of reference, foisted upon you, my relationship to that experience is certainly fraught.  But is this experience so different than many others'--meaning mono-racial people of color?  Is it any different than anyone --mono or multiracial--living the Mixed experience?