I went to the RCTA dinner last weekend in the hopes of meeting the President, but I didn't get the chance. My husband stayed at home with our daughters--partly because he hates having to put on a tuxedo and partly because he votes on the other side of America's political divide and expected the evening to be a one-sided liberal affair (in spite of the fact that Fox News was on the program and in the audience). Ironically, I did meet a political celebrity from the other side of the aisle-- and have an unexpectedly delighting chat with him.
Just as my friends and I were getting ready to leave, we encountered GOP Chairman Michael Steele walking the concourse (probably getting ready to leave himself). He wasn't surrounded by handlers-- or anyone-- for that matter. I'd driven down to event with my friend Rich Schmidt (President of the advertising agency, Fat-Cat Creative) and his neighbor, retired broadcaster Herb Brubaker who is something of fixture in Washington DC local news. Like the good journalist he is, Herb had quizzed me thoroughly on the drive to the Washington Convention Center: who was I, what did I do, what did I write about, etc. So I'd shared with this elderly white man quite a bit about Don't Bring Home A White Boy and what my research had uncovered. So when he saw Chairman Steele, he grabbed me by the hand and said, "Let me introduce you."
Introduce he did. After my name, the next thing out of his mouth was: "She's writing a book about the most amazing thing. Tell him, Karyn."
So I did... and Steele's eyes lit up.
"Girl," he said offering me his last business card. "I need that book. Please send me a copy when it comes out."
He proceeded to ask about my research and to share some of his own experiences with my topic. History, he agreed, was the most salient of reasons why black women date out far less than black men and for a while we discussed black matriarchy.
"I was raised by black women... all women," he told me. "And they do their best to inculcate a resistance to interracial dating to their sons. I remember when I brought home the Italian girl I dated in college." He shook his head, laughing. "That did NOT play. And I see it now with my wife and our two sons. I think it's interesting that black women accept multiculturalism on every other front-- but not on the romantic one." He shook my hand. "You're onto something there-- and I wish you every success."
I had to wish him the same. He struck me as a good guy with an impossible job-- widening the tent of a party that has entrenched itself in some very close-minded social policies. For every effort he makes to drag the Rush Limbaugh contingent into the 21st century, he himself gets mired deeper into those muddy waters of the past. While my hubby and I have some interesting debates at home, even he agrees that the social conservatives hold on his party are their greatest challenge. "I really don't care how other people live their lives," Kevin says all the time. "I'm a fiscal conservative, not a social one."
When I told my husband about my nice conversation with Chairman Steele, he appreciated the irony-- but was thrilled, too. Not enough to wish he'd donned a tuxedo and accompanied me, but thrilled all the same. "Don't forget to send him a book when it comes out," he said, watching where I tucked the business card away, so when I forget where I put it, he'll remember.
Of course, I will send Mr. Steele a copy when Don't Bring Home A White Boy comes out in January. No, I'll send him a few copies. Sounds like the women in his life might need it!
Showing posts with label black women. Show all posts
Showing posts with label black women. Show all posts
Monday, June 22, 2009
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Escape from Blackistan-- Or an Introduction to Divestment
Escaping from "Blackistan"--an Introduction to Divestment
Several years ago, I wrote an essay called "Escape from Blackistan" in which I explained how, for most of my life, I failed "to fit in" with many of the ideas about "blackness" that most of my peers (even at Harvard) adopted. The essay discussed the difficulties of feeling aligned with other blacks on issues of injustice, and yet completely (and not always unhappily) disconnected on just about everything else. Many of the ideas embraced by those deemed "authentically black" seemed ridiculous or dangerous to me: avoiding education, embracing certain types of music and excluding others, embracing only certain people, hair styles and clothing, living only in certain neighborhoods-- all to "stay black." It seemed ridiculous (especially at Harvard!). Still, when I tired to find a publisher for that piece I had little success.
These days-- as new discussions and blogs on the efficacy of black monoculturalism abound-- I wonder if the time is ripe to re-visit the concepts of Escape from Blackistan.
In the course of completing the research for my upcoming book, Don't Bring Home a White Boy and Other Notions That Keep Black Women Single I have been exposed to lots of new ideas that have given me a whole new vocabulary for the concepts in Escape from Blackistan. One of those ideas is propounded daily by Rev. Lisa Vazquez at her think tank/blog site Black Women Blow the Trumpet. The concept is "divestment" and basically it describes the process by which black women re-examine, then abandon the notions commonly considered to authentically "black". Divesting from these concepts means not only ceasing to believe in them, but refusing to invest any further time, money, or emotional energy in supporting these ideas.
In a series of thoughtful essays, Rev. Vazquez points out that dismantling "notions" that limit the way black women must behave in order to remain "good sistas" is necessary for black women to obtain dominance in a world that increasingly requires us to be culturally fluid in order to succeed. By dominance, she doesn't mean any abuse or misuse of power; she means the necessity of the good use of power in order to achieve success.
For all of us-- regardless of race or gender--achieving success really does require dismantling some of the notions that many of us were taught in childhood. For black women in particular, however, it means taking a careful look at cultural notions like the "strong black woman" or the matriarch image of a woman who shoulders everyone elses responsibilities, putting herself last. It means the habit of giving black men a "pass" when they fail and accounting it to racism. Indeed, it means reconsidering whether it is truly racism or sexis that affects black women more. Ultimately I think many of these notions come down to self or selfish-- and the loaded meanings those words have in the black community.
Obviously, Reverend Vazquez's essays had particular relevance in Don't Bring Home A White Boy, which is also about re-examining cultural dictates. But they also brought back a lot of the ideas I had written about in my Blackistan piece. Are black Americans finally ready to give the idea of a single black voice and admit the truth-- that we are as different and as varied in our backgrounds, tastes, beliefs and value systems as all other Americans? Does that dilute our power and if so, is that necessarily a bad thing in country that is less and less "black and white" and more global than ever? More and more, aren't the differences between people attributable about socio-economic class-- not race or ethnicity?
I don't pretend to know the answer (though I certainly have an opinion). I'll be exploring all of this as I dust off my Blackistan essay and retool it around some of new ideas I've been reading about. It will be telling if publisher's believe there's a market for it now. It may mean that the climate in Blackistan is shifting... and that the center of black monoculturalism cannot hold.
Several years ago, I wrote an essay called "Escape from Blackistan" in which I explained how, for most of my life, I failed "to fit in" with many of the ideas about "blackness" that most of my peers (even at Harvard) adopted. The essay discussed the difficulties of feeling aligned with other blacks on issues of injustice, and yet completely (and not always unhappily) disconnected on just about everything else. Many of the ideas embraced by those deemed "authentically black" seemed ridiculous or dangerous to me: avoiding education, embracing certain types of music and excluding others, embracing only certain people, hair styles and clothing, living only in certain neighborhoods-- all to "stay black." It seemed ridiculous (especially at Harvard!). Still, when I tired to find a publisher for that piece I had little success.
These days-- as new discussions and blogs on the efficacy of black monoculturalism abound-- I wonder if the time is ripe to re-visit the concepts of Escape from Blackistan.
In the course of completing the research for my upcoming book, Don't Bring Home a White Boy and Other Notions That Keep Black Women Single I have been exposed to lots of new ideas that have given me a whole new vocabulary for the concepts in Escape from Blackistan. One of those ideas is propounded daily by Rev. Lisa Vazquez at her think tank/blog site Black Women Blow the Trumpet. The concept is "divestment" and basically it describes the process by which black women re-examine, then abandon the notions commonly considered to authentically "black". Divesting from these concepts means not only ceasing to believe in them, but refusing to invest any further time, money, or emotional energy in supporting these ideas.
In a series of thoughtful essays, Rev. Vazquez points out that dismantling "notions" that limit the way black women must behave in order to remain "good sistas" is necessary for black women to obtain dominance in a world that increasingly requires us to be culturally fluid in order to succeed. By dominance, she doesn't mean any abuse or misuse of power; she means the necessity of the good use of power in order to achieve success.
For all of us-- regardless of race or gender--achieving success really does require dismantling some of the notions that many of us were taught in childhood. For black women in particular, however, it means taking a careful look at cultural notions like the "strong black woman" or the matriarch image of a woman who shoulders everyone elses responsibilities, putting herself last. It means the habit of giving black men a "pass" when they fail and accounting it to racism. Indeed, it means reconsidering whether it is truly racism or sexis that affects black women more. Ultimately I think many of these notions come down to self or selfish-- and the loaded meanings those words have in the black community.
Obviously, Reverend Vazquez's essays had particular relevance in Don't Bring Home A White Boy, which is also about re-examining cultural dictates. But they also brought back a lot of the ideas I had written about in my Blackistan piece. Are black Americans finally ready to give the idea of a single black voice and admit the truth-- that we are as different and as varied in our backgrounds, tastes, beliefs and value systems as all other Americans? Does that dilute our power and if so, is that necessarily a bad thing in country that is less and less "black and white" and more global than ever? More and more, aren't the differences between people attributable about socio-economic class-- not race or ethnicity?
I don't pretend to know the answer (though I certainly have an opinion). I'll be exploring all of this as I dust off my Blackistan essay and retool it around some of new ideas I've been reading about. It will be telling if publisher's believe there's a market for it now. It may mean that the climate in Blackistan is shifting... and that the center of black monoculturalism cannot hold.
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