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My sister watched the movie online today and felt the need to come tell me about certain scenes, despite the fact that she knows how I feel about the movie, the author, and the book, and what I know from reading about its presentations of racism and Black women. I immediately felt myself getting angry, as I knew I would. So, sensing this, my sister left the room and went to finish watching the movie alone.

Instead of actually having a conversation about the book, I ended up addressing the behaviors of the two commenters and their personal attacks when they decided to stop by and repeat racist (the white commenter) or hostile, passive aggressive patterns of commenting (the Black commenter) on my blog as they have in other places with me or in my presence in online discussions.

I officially gave myself permission to boycott this mess on principle, but all joking aside—

Why should we continue to have racist literature and film created at the hands of white folks shoved down our throats or proffered as legitimate because of their attempt at writing on the subject matter? We’re not taking it lying down, some of us, but why should accept their racist portrayals of us when we know ourselves better and can express ourselves and our experiences just fine? Read my more nuanced prospective and criticism here.

Reading critical commentary, reviews, and impressions from other Black women saying NO to this movie and NO to this book added to my sense of vindication. I agree that you can’t completely judge a book or movie without seeing/reading it for yourself. But Black women and other Black people should be able to and have to choose what to give their time to and what they’re just going to say a plain NO to. The Help is something that I plainly feel the need to just say NO to, both the book and the movie. I have said NO and I will continue to say NO for a long time.

There were suggestions that I waste my money on it, take the time to get it from the library, and watch the bootleg if I didn’t want to pay for it. What I think Tosh Fomby and Beverly Diehl were missing was the most important part of my brief commentary on The Help: I am choosing NOT give the book or the movie my time or my limited resources aside from stating why I’ve taken this stance. It’s that simple.

I’m very resistant when I come up against “the read it/see it anyway” argument.

Call it intuition. Call it believing what I’ve heard about it. Call it knowing a disaster when I see it and read about it. Whatever. Contrary to sensationalistic hype and praise surrounding the film and book, I don’t feel like I’m missing anything that I haven’t seen before in a dozen racist movies a dozen times over again before.

Judging by my reaction to a two-minute conversation about the film launched on me suddenly in my home, I know I’m still not ready to engage the film or the book nor do I have any desire to do so. And I mean that.

for real,

Ms. Queenly


This is in response to a comment I received on an older post, White People Adopting Black Children. I thought it best to go ahead and clarify one or two things, look for the bold. ~MsQ

Dear Dan,

I thought your comment showed that you misread or deliberately misunderstood my post on White People Adopting Black Children, so I reposted it on the blog with a response and wanted to make sure you got it, so I e-mailed it to let you know. I was being flip before but now I’m ready to give you a real answer. Please read my response below. Your original comment is in italics with my responses in between.

~MsQ

That’s all that matters to the child. Good, loving parents. Versus no family at all. Due to the numbers, that is what the choice ends up being for many children. I don’t even need to use the word “child” in the rest of this post now. I’m not saying I won’t use the word, I’m just saying I don’t have to.

–Your comment is based on the assumption that all children actually go to “good, loving parents”, no matter what their race. Your comment is also based on the assumption that most of these children actually get any such home at all. Take off your rose-colored glasses.

I’m not sure myself but I’d suggest taking a look at reported stats on how many children are actually placed in “good” homes and how many never get there at all.

I’m free to talk about you. You may be a sociologist, artist, whatever, but I’m just going to treat you like an ordinary human being. Is that OK?

–And insulting my character is conducive to what, Dan, other than making you feel better?

Let me ask another rhetorical question. What do you care more about, the child, or the “black/white communities” and their issues?

–If you think race has nothing to do with how kids grow up, the difference between having white parents and Black parents for many Black children (though not all of them depending mostly on the children themselves in some cases), you have waaay bigger issues than I initially thought. Class and location (neighborhood, etc.) also play a role in this.

The Black/white communities and its issues are very relevant to how Black children grow up. There is no way to separate the issues.

I think we’ve established what the answer to that is.

–No, I don’t think we have, Dan. So I shall continue.

You appear to be unaware of what the word “commodity” means. A commodity is something that can be traded for other commodities. Under US law “children” do not meet the definition. If you treated them like commodities you would be breaking the law. The resolution of this apparent impasse lies, of course, in your foolishness.

–As a matter of fact, I know exactly what the word commodity means. And even if I didn’t, there’s plenty of online resources to draw on.

Children are a commodity for anyone who can buy them, whether it’s with money or approval from the government or agencies. Black children have been brought by white people for five hundred years or more in the United States. Open up a textbook, Dan, it was called slavery. And many white people still believe they can buy us—this may or may not include yourself (as white, I mean). They view us as commodities, especially the “exotic” brown kids from other countries.

The original post was written in response to upper and middle to upper middleclass white people who either purchase children of color or adopt them exactly because they are children of color, particularly the white scavengers “parents” or would-be parents who hover over scenes of natural disasters (Haiti, for example), waiting to pick up little brown kids to so that they can boast their privileged egos and inflate their sense of Christian duty or what have you. It has nothing to do with the child and everything to do with owning them and participating in exploitation.

As a Black woman, I think it’s important for Black children to be around other Black people and involved in Black communities and the issues facing them. It can create a racial/ethnic disconnect and desensitivity of sorts when they are not.

Oh and I don’t think I’m being foolish at all, so fuck you on that one.

You must have written that mouthful of a CV some time ago, because you don’t stand for diversity. You don’t. You stand for pettiness. You stand for defensiveness. You stand for not meeting people halfway.

–No, I don’t meet bigots halfway. They take and take and have nothing to give. I’m betting I have a different idea of what diversity looks like than you do; I’m more on the social justice end of things and Black people need a lot of that. Diversity can only be fostered with justice.

And I didn’t write my “CV” “some time ago”, 2010 actually so I’m a pretty recent on my info. Graduate.

Your principle is that white people will never understand what it is like to be black.

–After attending a predominantly white university and living in a white-dominated world, yes, I believe that that opinion/principle has some merit or truth to it.

Black people probably don’t understand very well what it’s like to be white, either.

–As I said, we live in a white-dominated world. White privilege is real. Black people don’t have to be white to understand it. Many of us are punished and beat over the head with it every day.

Another day, another misguided jerk, thanks for the practice, Dan,

MsQ


*cross-posted at Elia’s Diamonds, another Ms. Queenly blog*

Let’s get down to the words on the page.

We are a racial AND ethnic group in the United States and internationally around the world.

So why do people not capitalize the ‘B’ in Black when writing about Black characters in their books or whatever else?

I’m not really much of a grammar whiz but I wonder….

Words that are capitalized as opposed to words that are lowercase have a certain effect on many people when they see them on a page. Why is Black, as the race AND ethnicity of millions of people, treated like an adjective?

For the reason above, I see it as a slight against Black people that many writers, no matter what field, do not think to capitalize the ‘B’ in Black. In this instance, when talking about a group of people…Black is a pronoun, not an adjective, folks.

Evermore real,

MsQ


I’ve never liked that “Ebony and Ivory” stuff.

Many Black people describe each other as “dark-skinned”. As a child, I never really thought about it but when I was confronted with white people who call all people of color who aren’t pale “dark-skinned”, I began to think.

Maybe I really will be a teacher or professor one day in an “official” capacity and that’s why I’m thinking about this on this level. Maybe I just think too much, one of my overwrought idiosyncrasies.

Whatever the reason, I have adopted a policy of not categorizing brown people as “dark-skinned” based on some theory of relativity when comparing oneself to milk and white chalk. Unless there’s a point, I will not write stories comparing Black people to consumable or exotified things like chocolate, caramel, leopards, cheetahs, lions (no big cats from jungle or plain in general), animals in general, darkness, overdone comparisons and conflation with nature like trees, wood, plants, flowers, and soil.

I will question when people call myself or others “black-skinned”—as in the color, not the socio-political identity (‘B’lack)—in my presence.

I will find other ways to describe brown skin.

There is an entire spectrum of brownness. Unless it’s painted or treated somehow, I don’t even think ebony wood is actually ‘black’. Even coffee isn’t black; anybody who’s ever looked at coffee before (or spilled it) can tell you that coffee is brown—even espresso. All my life I’ve had this threshold in my mind that stops me from thinking of ‘B’lack people as literally ‘black’, even the most beloved brownest of us.

We need to change the way we think about our skin tones, complexions, hues, color-coding, and what have you. I believe that mitigating racism and other forms of oppression means being active about changing the way we think about our bodies on emotional and psychological level. It means breaking down our pathologies about our skin and the overvaluation of “white” skin.

We have to start asking ourselves “What do I/they mean when I/they use the phrase “dark-skinned”.

I love the color black. At one point, most of my wardrobe was black in high school—I was really emo[tive]/empathic in those days. However, even though we may identify politically as ‘B’lack, not literally, the color is perceived in many negative ways and has many negative connotations such as lowness, hypersexuality, darkness, evil, and disease, when it is mapped onto our skin literally. White folks have spent centuries coming up with and solidifying new ways of turning us ‘black’ because we are not white.

Maybe this is just a long way of saying we need to start re-teaching people their primary colors and how to discern nuances.

Out,

~MsQ


the Applebee’s nonsense continues. read Part 1 here.

I’ve never had a really bad experience at an Applebee’s before, not at home in Atlanta or when I lived in Decatur for about a year. I did not take the situation well.

My sister gave me the look with her lips pursed, having seen everything I did while my mom remained oblivious. I said out loud, ”Oh hell naw… Let’s go. Let’s get out here.”

We went next door to Marie Calender’s to eat and I was pissed though I tried not to let it ruin my meal.

Seeing that I in particular was in a bad mood, I think the staff at Marie Calender’s was trying to be sensitive to us. We explained to my mom what she missed while we were all sitting there, waiting to be acknowledged over in the Applebee’s and she agreed with me that we stood go back and fill out a comment card or demand to talk to the manager.

The food at Marie Calender’s was okay-tasty. After spending a totally exorbitant amount on it, I wasn’t thrilled.

We went back next door to the Applebee’s and asked to see the manager.

He came out and we talked to him about what happened, white and/or Latino guy. The first thing he was quick to say was that “We’re not sure it was racism but you all were certainly neglected and that’s money taken away from us that you had to go next door”. He knew the restaurant hadn’t been crowded at all when we came in and spoke in a pretty audible voice.

He took down my name and the phone number to our apartment. Later, the manager called and said he’d looked at the video tape footage of the incident. I spoke with him and felt a little uncomfortable, having forgotten or never thought about the cameras in this restaurant.

The manager came to conclusion that it wasn’t racism or discrimination but we were neglected; he offered to send us something in the mail to compensate us and “bring us back” into the fold with Applebee’s.

We ain’t got nothing in mail yet.

Welcome to Fresno.


Despite the 100-degree dry heat out here, my mom, sister, and I decided to have an outing.

I wasn’t trying to be a delicate, little light-skinned Southern belle (only Black), I just didn’t want to get fried so I used my lucky purple, pink-spotted umbrella as a parasole. My sister had a wicked headache and with her sensitivity to heat because of the MS, she really didn’t want to be out there. But…went we did, vowing to stop by the store and see the extended stay motel mom had stayed in for two months while we rationed a $90 food and necessity budget back home before we got here.

Since I love pho (Vietnamese rice noodle soup), we were going to this pho place that my mom swears by. Instead, we ended up on a two-hour bus trip and barely made it to the store.

I was hot. I was hungry. I was grouchy. I still wanted pho. The pho place would have required us to take another bus down the street so we went into Applebee’s instead.

Upon entering the restaurant, no one greeted us though several of the employees on the floor in Applebee’s t-shirts saw us come in. We waited. No one appeared. So we sat down and waited in the waiting area, usually reserved for when its crowded and taking time to seat folks. For how long, I don’t know. Two minutes. Five minutes. It wasn’t crowded at all so I had no idea why no one was coming to greet us and seat us.

A white woman, her husband, and three small children entered the Applebee’s some time behind us. Immediately, a smiling white female Applebee’s employee appeared and said, “Hi! someone will be right with you.”

She wasn’t talking to us. She didn’t even look at us.

Welcome to Fresno.

 


Well, mama, so much for being descended from those “dark-skinned Indians” that you’re so proud of, who are supposedly lurking around in our blood.

This Yahoo article states that the Cherokee Nation has expelled hundreds of descendants of African peoples who were descended from the slaves of plantation-owning Cherokee natives. I had never really thought about the fact the Cherokees (one of the most prominent tribes if not the most prominent of my home state, Georgia) owned African slaves, my ancestors; a professor at the university I attended brought it to my attention, being part indigenous herself.

I hate Disney’s version of Pocahontas and actively rebel against it by trying to teach people the real historical truth behind the romanticized myth.

I always stick my neck out on the chopping block when people talk trash about people of color in the classroom and in my own house, especially for indigenous folks.

Why?

Though my mother is constantly saying that we have more Indians in our family than Africans, I have never claimed any Cherokee blood because I have no proof and do not want to sound like the hundreds of white people who swear-’fore-God that they have an Indian princess in their blood. Furthermore, I identity as Black and reject the idea that being “mixed white or ‘American Indian’” or whatever else will make me less Black; unlike many Black people who curse and thrust their African heritage away, I will not do so.

I understand why the tribes of this country would claim that they don’t have to look after anybody aside from those that they view as their own. But…the Cherokees benefited from a system of slavery put in place by the same group that oppressed and dehumanized them.

I’ve never seen a picture or read a narrative detailing African slaves on the Trail of Tears, come to think of it. And now the Cherokee Nation has shown just how much they care about the Black people that their ancestors helped enslave and had to carry their shit on that Trail of Tears. Their response is that they can change the rules of membership into their tribe any time that they like. Is this the real reason why they have done this?

At this point, if only because this was a bit of a shock to me, I’m kind of just throwing up my hands: Black people hate Black people. Africans hate Black people. Indigenous peoples/Indians/Native Americans/natives/*specific tribe name here* hate Black people. Latinos hate Black people. White people hate Black people. “Asians” hate Black people and think we’re savages.

And Black people, well, we could have it in for just about anybody for just this reason.

I’m sick of in-fighting with other Black people. I’m sick of having it out with other people of color who side with bigoted whites and their own groups. Occasionally, I just ask myself, What have I been fighting for all this time? If two of the most historically oppressed racial/ethnic groups in the U.S. can’t stand together, then what the hell is any of this for?

*throwing up my hands*

Ms. Queenly


Word is that people are making a big deal out of this movie. I don’t really get it. I haven’t seen it nor have I read the book. But I will say this:

This is a book that was written by a white woman if I’m not mistaken.

This is now a movie and a book that has made millions of dollars.

Why is yet another white person making gross amounts of money off of Black folks when so many Black folks can barely make money to survive and have one of the highest unemployment rates as a group in the country? Why can’t Black writers, producers, and artists get this this much money for writing work for their own communities!? <—This is all I need to know. I’m not seeing this movie. I’m not buying the book.

Somewhat pissed off about this. Let me know if I’m missing something here. And excuse me if I don’t join the line of people praising this mess.

for real,

Ms. Queenly


Recently, I’ve been having this conversation with my sister about the Rodney King incident. I used to believe that all the figureheads of Black movements were people who generally didn’t do things that the reasonable laws in the United States are enforced for—like speeding and abusing copious amounts of drugs and alcohol. Rodney King, much to my surprise and unsurprisingly, has a long history of doing both of these things.

I think that what needs to be remembered about the Rodney King situation is that what happened to him—a brutal beating by police enforcement that left him severely injured—happened because he is Black, not because he was belligerent and breaking [reasonable] laws. His drug and alcohol use isn’t something I agree with, nor his disregard for speed limits, but I think his track record distracts some people from issues of race, racism, and police brutality, particularly the history of police brutality against Black folks, the refusal of this country to protect Black people under its own laws, and, let’s not forget, the justice system and a white-dominated society actually using its power to persecute and charge Black people with false evidence and no evidence at all.


Black. Female. Working class/poor. Ancestors were slaves in America. What to the Slave is the Fourth of July?

Enough Said.

Ms. Queenly.



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