Where The Brightest Minds Have The Darkest Corners
Tag Archives: blackness

“I’m Not…” by Ralph Wiley

by The AOMuse

Editor’s Note: Around midnight as I wrestled with the insomnia of an active mind, I saw this image appear in my Facebook newsfeed once again. While invoking a passing glance in the early afternoon, the combination of my rambling thoughts and the nighttime calm made me recall reading an essay during my adolescent years entitled “I’m Not…” by sports analyst and social critic Ralph Wiley from the text “Why Black People Tend To Shout”. In a brief two pages, Wiley employed a wry and satirical wit in order to surreptitiously attack a series of assumptions encountered by Black people in a society that has a terrible time sorting them as individuals.

Mistaken Identity

I am not a politician, therefore I don’t know where to go to have political buttons made up. If I did, I surely would go there now. I would be out the door this minute, on my way to ordering up about fifty millions buttons for Black (my capitalization) people. The buttons would say in simple, uncertain terms.

I’M NOT…

Next to I’M NOT would be a space for the Black button wearer to write in the necessary name of the moment. These buttons would cut down on confusion, because of the sad tendency of white people to think that every Black person they meet is just like the last Black person they saw.”

For example, if you are trying to negotiate a labor contract, or just trying to get a raise from a white boss or a loan from a white bank, you need a button that says:
I’M NOT GENE UPSHAW
If you are an actor, you need a button that says:
I’M NOT EDDIE MURPHY . . . BUT I MIGHT KNOW HIM
If you are stopped by a policeman for some traffic violation, whether real or imagined, you need a button:
I’M NOT CARRYING NARCOTICS
If you want to be President, you need:
I’M NOT JESSE
If you’re thinking of converting to Judaism, you need:
I’M NOT SAMMY DAVIS, JR.
If you want to be an educator, you need:
I’M NOT JOE CLARK
If you want to be a baseball hitter, you need:
I’M NOT JOE CLARK
If you want to be a dancer, you need:
I’M NOT BEN VEREEN OR MICHAEL JACKSON
If you just want to be left alone, you need:
I’M NOT READY FOR NO DAMN PAROLE BOARD
If you want to attract more attention, you need:
I’M NOT REALLY BLACK–THIS IS JUST A PHASE
If you want a taxi, you need:
I’M NOT HEADING UPTOWN
If you are African, you may need these:
I’M NOT KUNTA KINTE or I’M NOT IDI AMIN DADA
There would also be a universal button:
I’M NOT WHO YOU THINK I AM
If you want to be a writer, you’d probably want this:
I’M NOT RALPH WILEY, AND THANK GOD
If you want to work in the cabinet of the next administration, you will need a button that says:
I’M NOT FOR SALE

Unless of course you are for sale, in which case you’re on your own.


Review: The Negritude Poets: An Anthology of Translations from the French

by The AOMuse

The Negritude Poets: An Anthology of Translations from the French The Negritude Poets: An Anthology of Translations from the French by Ellen Conroy Kennedy
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

“It may be
they dare to
treat me white
though everything within me
wants only to be black
as Negro as my Africa
the Africa they ransacked”
~ excerpt from “Whitewash” by Leon Damas

In the early 1900′s while the New Negro Renaissance positioned itself in the U.S. as the latest skirmish in the ongoing struggle for a monolithic black identity, parallel literary and intellectual awakenings were taking place throughout the world amongst members of the African diaspora. In Haiti, the writings of Jean Price-Mars were linking Haitian cultural identity with an African lineage laying the groundwork for the Indigeniste Movement. This shift saw a reclamation of non-white and non-western elements of Haitian communal life paired with a rejection of French neo-colonial subjugation. In Cuba, Nicolas Guillen was engaging Afro-Cuban cultural experiences and son rhythm in his work becoming the genesis of the literary movement Negrismo.

In Paris, a Clamart salon was the seat of intellectual confluence for the global black community finding American, Caribbean and African writers meeting to exchange dialogue and shared ideals. Sisters Andree, Jane and Paulette Nardal hosted this trans-racial and cosmopolitan cast of characters whose discussions traversed the expanse of humanism, literature, art and the future direction of the diaspora. These first fruitful conversations beget “Negro: An Anthology” edited by Nancy Cunard which further beget “La Revue du monde noir” edited by Paulette Nardal. In these two publications was developed the social and political culture which would give rise to Negritude within the black writers and thinkers of the Francophone colonies.

The selections included here are rich with the anguish, experience, insight, emotion and intelligence emerging from different points within the black Francophone post-colonial world. The language was a common medium through which each author might interact and compare notes about how their individual culture had grappled with the question and impact of blackness. There was a vastly different cultural continuum which informed a Malagasy author such as Jean-Joseph Rabearivelo than would shape the Haitian author Rene Depestre. The poetry of the latter was born of the constant flux of Haitian revolutionary politics and the mysteries of Voudoun while the writing of the former had its origin in the relative isolation of Madagascar amongst African nations and the unity of the Malagasy tribes in resisting attempts at colonization.

These internal conflicts in the cohesive blackness that Negritude sought to invoke would later lead to a splintering amongst adherents and the rise of such offshoots as Creolite and Antillanite. Antillanite sought to draw attention to the unique historical and cultural configuration of the Caribbean which brought together both indigenous and imported elements in crafting a shared identity amongst its inhabitants. Creolite refined this shared identity further to focus its attention specifically upon the French Caribbean. These splits mirrored the search for a common black identity which gave rise to the New Negro Renaissance and Garveyism of the same period in the U.S. along with the conflicting direction of those two movements.

The most unfortunate aspect of the anthology is that one cannot reach a cohesive sense of this historical context by examining the introduction of the text and author biographies which precede each chapter. The editor chose to engage only the poetic and prosaic output which flourished within Negritude though as the movement expanded its reach through literary journals, it produced poems, prose, essays and cultural commentary. There was also a failure to adequately address the role women played in the conception and advancement of Negritude although the Nardal sisters amongst others provided a critical intellectual spark in propelling Negritude forward.

Even with these shortfalls, I consider this a necessary work in helping members of the diaspora in the U.S. to gain an international perspective of Pan African literary and intellectual insight where we have previously engaged mostly in the study those literary movements originating in the United States. The availability of more comprehensive information about the experience of members of the global black community serves only to strengthen the cultural ties we make with one another. The history of the Negritude movement should inform us that while we may not be able to wrangle all of these prickly personalities into a single, progressive monolith, we can open channels of dialogue and create pathways of exchange that may lead us to mine our own cultural experience even more deeply.

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Review: On Being Black

by The AOMuse

On Being Black On Being Black by Charles T. Davis
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

“My long-crushed spirit rose, cowardice departed, bold defiance took its place; and I now resolved that, however long I might remain a slave in form, the day had passed forever when I could be a slave in fact.” ~ Excerpt from the Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass

The most important use of the anthology is to draw to the fore those literary passages which have been previously overlooked or otherwise subverted beneath other writings of greater acclaim. Another very necessary application of the anthology is to create a topical umbrella under which a keen eye can be focused on a single motif as it threads itself through a variety of literature over time. “On Being Black” manages to accomplish both of these aspects with magnificent deft, insight and comprehensiveness. The elusive and mutable nature of race and identity in America has provided a complex construct for black people to navigate in comprehending the nature of blackness as a thing that one must circumscribe for themselves and either live within or desperately plot to escape.

The line initially quoted above appears in the “Narrative” as included in the ‘First Stirrings” section of “On Being Black”. Soon after I completed my reading of this anthology, the line reappeared in my subsequent reading of “The Black Panthers Speak” as evidence of the legacy of black resistance flowing between Douglass’ battle with Edward Covey and the Panthers emergence from the black community as a revolutionary political force. In that text, Philip Foner argues that both events are connected by Fanon’s assertion in “The Wretched of the Earth” that only through revolutionary violence could be accomplished the transformation and rebirth of the black personality which had been severely underdeveloped through centuries of violent oppression.

Here lies the critical importance of what this anthology seeks to accomplish in collecting writings on how we have wrestled with the question of blackness over time. As the ways in which race is defined has changed, so has our opinion of the significance of race. As the conditions of oppression either rise or fall, the discussion of blackness is manipulated by forces that are not explicitly racial in nature. Though we must keep in mind that the absence of an explicit racial quality within a condition does not preclude the possibility that said condition can be racially coded including political latitude, class, poverty and community development. This may be shown in our present era of political claw back upon social programs originally created to equalize historical inequities.

The first era charts those initial stirrings of a people yearning for a sense of independence and struggling through literary means to express their intellect (W.E.B. DuBois), work ethic (Booker T. Washington), culture (Paul Laurence Dunbar) and religiosity (James Weldon Johnson). Sometimes we find these moments colliding with one another and raining down upon us at the very same time as in a second set of selections offered from DuBois; “The Song of the Smoke” and “A Litany at Atlanta”. In “A Litany…”, DuBois employs a strident liturgical petition in a cynical retort to black religious fervor as he ponders the hand of God inside of the racial terror being inflicted upon black people crying out at one point “Doth not this justice of hell stink in Thy nostrils, O God? How long shall the mounting flood of innocent blood roar in Thine ears and pound in our hearts for vengeance?”.

The second era maps those initial breakaways from the emulation of white cultural forms coming with the arrival of the New Negro Renaissance as we hear Alain Locke ushering the era forward with “The Negro’s Contribution” moving as a natural outgrowth of DuBois’ espousal of the “Talented Tenth”. Black dialect is more loosely employed in lengthy mixed poetic and prosaic form as the excerpt from “Kabnis” of Jean Toomer’s “Cane” or Eric Walrond’s short tale “The Yellow One”. Langston Hughes posits an argument that will be continued through the end of the century and live on even in our present with his essay “The Negro Artist and the Racial Mountain” where he states “But this is the mountain standing in the way of any true Negro art in America–this urge within the race toward whiteness, the desire to pour racial individuality into the mold of American standardization, and to be as little Negro and as much American as possible.”

The close of the Renaissance idealism ushers in what might be termed a darker period, pun intended. We find America passing through the Great Depression which saw Harlem’s marginal prosperity and nightlife decimated. The few opportunities afforded black Americans by the absent workforce during World War I began to evaporate. Garveyism and the U.N.I.A. were in collapse. The continuing anti-Communist blow back from the first Red Scare suppressed the black intellectual tradition which had flourished in Renaissance writing. Writers who did continue creating literature were largely engaged in New Deal cultural documentation through the Works Progress Administration. We enter a period that I call the Post-Renaissance Vanguard and which Lawrence P. Jackson termed the “Indignant Generation”.

The brutality of black life in Chicago depicted in “Native Son” brings Richard Wright to prominence in the literary world with Bigger Thomas bullying friends into committing a robbery in which he himself was not confident. Ralph Ellison uses the vehicle of an invisible man to contemplate the issues of black culture as a continual stepchild to American indifference with his lead figure navigating through the ways in which he has accepted having his presence ignored by the American majority. James Baldwin would open his career exploring his experiences in the teen ministry and eventual alienation from the institution of the church while simultaneously lambasting its hypocrisy. Melvin Tolson exhibits a fierce mastery of the English language with his erudite poetry reflecting a well traveled understanding of the world. Ellison would also go on to enter another entry in the argument of Negro artistry engaged earlier by Hughes with a missive squarely aimed at Irving Howe entitled “The World and the Jug” where he states “In his effort to resuscitate Wright, Irving Howe would designate the role which Negro writers are to play more rigidly than any Southern politician–and for the best of reasons. We must express “black” anger and “clenched militancy”; most of all we should not become too interested in the problems of the art of literature, even though it is through these that we seek our individual identities.”

The final era covered in this anthology changes the order slightly with the editors choosing to shift the commentary on black artistry from the anchor position to the lead as Leroi Jones offers his thoughts on “The Myth of a Negro Literature”. In this commentary, Jones makes the case that “Only in music, and most notably in blues, jazz, and spirituals, i.e., “Negro Music,” has there been a significantly profound contribution by American Negroes.” He later goes on to cite Jean Toomer, Richard Wright, Ralph Ellison and James Baldwin as the only examples of “serious” Negro writing that was not highly stylized and cultured to be more impressive to the mainstream American sensibility.

Writing in this period finds itself increasingly politicized as the Civil Rights struggle grows more confrontational reaching its crescendo when Stokely Carmichael sounds the call for Black Power. Echoes of Malcolm and Martin linger long after each respective assassination giving rise to a more militant orientation for the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee (SNCC) and the genesis of the Black Panther Party for Self Defense. The Black Arts Movement sweeps through the Northeast, Midwest and West Coast as black authors in each region contemplate and write towards the creation of black aesthetic. Eldridge Cleaver takes a fiery blast at Baldwin’s blackness and masculinity in his “Notes on a Native Son, from Home” which pulses with a certain envious tension. Bayard Rustin finds himself growing frustrated as he expresses in his “Convocation Address” to Clark College on March 5, 1968 that “…Young Negroes are now so frustrated that they are substituting slognanism for analysis. They are examining their navels when they should be examining economic and social programs. They are more concerned with the way they wear their hair and whether or not they are called “black” or “Afro-American” than with developing strategies to solve the problems of housing, poverty and jobs.”

I am of the opinion that the question of race and identity continues to be one of the most critical issues faced by black people in America in this age. I therefore count this as one of the most important books that I have read all year on the basis of the breadth and scope of its content. One is left wanting with each selection to explore a slight bit more, but the editors have given us only so much as we should require to make the necessary connection between the transitions of identity that occur across each era. One necessary criticism that must be noted of this text is again the woeful absence of the black feminine voice. They have much to offer us in perceiving blackness and as happens too often even in anthologies of black diasporic literary movements such as “The Negritude Poets”, men dominate the coverage. This title contains two lone female voices across four eras of writing; Margaret Walker and Gwendolyn Brooks. If we are ever to resolve this question of identity, men will not settle the issue alone for we too are possessed of a subtle privilege that may pervade our ability to grasp the full magnitude of the picture. Read this manuscript as a launch pad for it will move your insight in an infinite series of directions before you reach its end.

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Photosynthesis (Writer’s Unified Avatar Challenge)

by The AOMuse

okay fam here is the challange: take a member’s existing avatar and write a piece on it.  not about the poet per say, but about their avatar, if the two are not one and the same. – alvetta

[image]

couch
these roots
in the color
of chlorophyll
against an aura
golden flecked
rich with sun
renew me each day
we arrive
self sustained
supplanted
this stem stands
with backbone firm
i am not
your
fragile flower
i am
learning
to transform
each issued
breath
from mere
greenhouse gas
to the oxygen
of a new day
i inhale
the rich aroma
of creation
to exhale
a living wind
grasp a handful
of dark earth
when you forget
what is real
water my garden
for the fruit
i produce
shall be
sufficient
to feed
hungry nations
as you eat
offerings
from my
giving tree
resist the urge
to pluck
me barren
honor our
symbiotic cycle
as we feast
upon each other
find fullness
in tempering
your appetite

andiamstillhungry…lordallowmetodrinksomemore!

the aodevelopmentarrested


What’s Your Deepest Fear?!?

by The AOMuse

I’m adding this to my top 10 quotes of blissful ignorance because there is depth and texture behind the sentiment, but I don’t think this particular individual understands the true weight of what he said based upon the breakdown that followed it.

“I’m more afraid of life than death.” – Lil’ Wayne

Here is how he explained it:

“His response when asked if he’s scared of death:
F— no. I¹m more afraid of life than death. I don’t know where you going when you die, so I ain’t too scared of that. I already know what’s poppin’ around here. It’s scary out here.”

Now here is the fix. Do you know how much that statement speaks to the larger Black male populace who truly are so much more afraid of life than death that they would willingly chase after Death, that great unknown, than embrace what they know about Life? Is Life in this day and age truly so miserable that brothers don’t want to deal with what is ahead and would rather face Death as if they imagine themselves as having a fighting chance? Unfortunately, Wayne has too much ego behind his expression and I don’t sense a larger level of understanding around it. Pity that most who pick up that issue of Vibe won’t understand it either. Suppose that’s the way the publisher prefers it.

thinkingwhilespeakingisnotacrime!

the aoclaimingimacriminal


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