Cramming to Understand

Now, good people of The Innanets, I’m an artist.  And, as such, I am not only sensitive about my shit but I am sensitive about other folks’ shit. The good, the bad, the wtf . . . I try my best, no matter what, to give everyone room.  Even when Kanye’s giving me naked emperor vibes. Despite my disdain for some folks’ singing voices, or vocals that don’t quite fit the song the way I’d personally like (see: “Still,” by Macy Gray), I will at least smile and nod.   Everything isn’t for everyone.

This also applies to visual media. Paintings, photographs, sculpture, and tapestries all. Clothing, too, but y’all already know how I feel about the “different” styles, right? Right. But, my original point: I’m tryna reach an understanding about a  painting I happened to see whilst trolling the web for pics of one James Ambrose Johnson, Jr.   Now, I understand that everyone’s taste is not my taste. I understand that, as someone who doesn’t create visual art for anyone other than myself (I make collages that I will never share w/ the masses. Ever.), I might need to keep my mouth shut.

But, fuck that.

Cuz this shit right here is too much. Behold:

Yes, that's right . . . she put on a prom dress for this.

 

It’s called Mz. Thang and Rick James.  The comment section is open for whatever the fuck you all wanna say about this.

I really just don’t get it.

sexual predators don’t have career paths.

and other points from my twitter rant about the lawsuits (four lawsuits as of today’s date) against eddie long.

it started with my response to a series of tweets i saw from other folks, with all kinds of victim blaming & automatic denials along the lines of “i bet they just want money.” i got angry. then i decided it was a good idea to just tweet until i felt like stopping. that’s what twitter’s about, isn’t it? here goes:

sexual predators don’t have a physical type or career path. the same way there’s no job for people who’d “never do that.”

victimization is not gender-specific.

victims cannot be blamed for what happens to them — the violator is responsible for what they do. always.

instantly doubting the accuser maintains a culture of silence, which serves the abuser more than it maintains honesty for any accusers, false or not.

i’m not going to go into deep detail here — i wanna see how this whole thing pans out. but, for an awesome analysis of both this situation and “no wedding, no womb,” go hit up this post by moya at crunk feminist collective.

a few quick notes about no wedding, no womb

i wrote it on tumblr, but for those of you who don’t read me there, i thought it’d be a good idea to share my beliefs on this quote-unquote movement here. (google the whole thing, i’m not giving them any linkage)

because i tweeted it but didn’t blog it:

the whole quote-unquote movement is gender essentialist. point blank. period.

the finger wagging and shaming aside, this initiative seeks to push all MAAB (male assigned at birth) and FAAB (female assigned at birth) persons to marry one another, regardless of being self-identified as trans, or being gay or lesbian self-identified.

because of the illegality, in most states, of what’s called same-sex marriage, this initiative cannot include cisgender gay, lesbian, or bisexual (or pan or omnisexual) ppl or any trans-identified people. by its own definition, no less.

monogamy is not the default setting for all humans. it is a choice. compulsory monogamy and heterosexuality encroach on the rights of an individual to do what they wish with their bodies.

furthermore, there has been little to no discussion by the NWNW folks regarding causations of single parenthood & correlations between single motherhood & the catastrophic outcomes they seem to think are rampant in the black community.

encouraging anyone to marry for the sake of a child is dangerous. ask any one of my friends who has lived through a domestic violence situation, either as the scarred child or as the abused spouse.

& if i say shit else about this, it’ll be because someone on team finger wag has come at my neck w/ some bullshit.

zomg i’m single!

so the fuck what?

this is all the discussion y’all are getting out of me. thanks to this piece from the crunk feminist collective, i don’t have to go too deep.  i’m including links from a twitter rant i went on regarding this very subject, for good measure.

first, i wanted to know if anyone had introduced to this larger conversation the idea that monogamy is not the default setting for our lives, but a choice.   as in, we choose to be monogamous, or we don’t.  & if you don’t realize that you choose monogamy, this is where you should find another blog post of mine to read (like the one about tina knowles).   we do not have to couple.  some of us are polyamorous, some of us never partner — even when we decide that we wish to parent.

nobody that i know of, with the exception of the ladies at crunk feminist collective, has mentioned that queer (by queer i mean lesbians, bisexual, pan/ omnisexual, trans, intersex)  self-identified black women aren’t considered in this conversation. again: we are not a monolith. you can’t have this conversation without considering the fact that the women being discussed are hetero, cisgender (not trans women — trans ppl are invisible in virtually every conversation about marriage, and just about everything else), & at the very least hold bachelor’s degrees. because ppl who don’t finish college don’t matter in this conversation, no matter what they’re doing w/ themselves, unless it’s to count them as undesirables.  further, who’s to say that marriage is everyone’s goal or ideal? it could be argued that “we aren’t talking about those people,” but if that’s the case then it must be stated so from the onset of each conversation regarding unmarried black women of certain income levels and sexual orientations.  period. know your audience.

if the root of the “problem” of unmarried black hetero cis women is that there aren’t enough desirable black men to go around & we’re looking at that strictly in terms of education, then who’s to blame? parents? schools? both? neither? high school dropout rates are nothing to sneeze at. the prison industrial complex, fueled by some rather draconian laws, also removes men who might otherwise be “good catches” from the dating pool.  does this mean that some of those “lost ones” were never marriageable to begin with, as their parents/ support systems failed them long before they got outta high school? okay. i’ll take that. but that isn’t the case w/ everyone. i feel like too much of this conversation is based on simplistic ideas of what a “good black man” is, and what a “good black woman” needs.  also: folks get married later in general, because they’re doing more than their parents’ generations did w/ their lives. the need for a college education has increased — even to get administrative assistant gigs. so if we have to take more time between high school and college to fill up these lives of ours (with greater expectancies, even for black men & women), maybe it’s not even as deep as the media panic suggests. ::gasp:: maybe we’re doing so much that holding ourselves to standards based on folks who lived life differently (slower, w/ less autonomy as children/ young adults, w/ different or less education) is a waste of fucking time! i’m just sayin.

& really, if marrying someone is about loving them until your last breath exits your body, can we consider one thing: the purported crisis of unmarried black women suggests that there is not enough love for us. that we are not lovable. that there is scarcity in the black community, so we must either take what we can get from black men or marry white men if we want to be married at all. this is wrong. love is infinite. there is no reason to think, for one minute, that any one of us is not lovable. that we are not desirable — to anyone, whether they be white, asian, latino, man, woman, gender non-conforming, cisgender, transgender, disabled, blue collar, white collar, no collar, or anything fucking else. if we marry because we want to spend the rest of our lives surrounded by the love, care, and support of another person then why on earth would we let fear run us off our paths? no, i’m not saying that there aren’t rough patches. heaven knows that i’ve lived through my shit and may continue to go through things before i find a good lover (i don’t necessarily seek to marry). but under no circumstances is being single a detriment. it’s never wrong. it’s not a bad thing. we’re not born partnered. we choose to partner — some of us because of conditioning, some of us because we find that wonderful person to be with. & it’s all good. it’s about intent, y’all. if your intent for seeking a mate is because that shit is on your checklist of successful shit to do w/ your life, you might be setting yourself up for what we call the okey-doke.   ultimately, the lens through which our romantic situations are being examined is flawed, to say the least.   & to say the most: it’s fucked up, limited, & doesn’t actually apply to as many folks as these “experts” (like finesse “my best jokes are about my teen mother” mitchell, jimi izrael & steve harvey) would have you believe.

this rant’s over. i’m dropping the mic like randy watson. but if you wanna read more juicy commentary:

visit the sugar shack

read this op-ed via the philadelphia inquirer

& another dope post from the crunk feminist collective

this piece from the nation, featuring the words of the fabulous melissa harris-lacewell & courtney young is made of pure unadulterated win.

i’m off to go be single and cook for myself, feed myself, bathe myself, & sing my face off at karaoke. cuz that’s what manless almost-30-year-olds do, apparently.

train wreck!

soooo i was on twitter mindin my own beeswax, being the benevolent servant of the god/dess that i am. & i tweeted that i wasn’t even finna read jill scott’s essence column on interracial dating & why it hurts her feelings.  (because they are her feelings. & what’s my reading gonna do?) shortly thereafter, i was @ replied by @Interracial_Mag with a link to a blog post about their (i’m guessing the guy in the profile picture, who IDs as the primary writer of the blog, a white hetero cisgender man) view on jill’s essence column.  now, i was gonna sit down and do a well-thought-out comment on this man’s blog. but i realized after some back-and-forth w/ him on twitter that it may be better for me to go paragraph-by-paragraph and really express what it is i think/ feel about this. and maybe i’ll put all my little comments into a neat package and send them to the writer of the interracial love magazine blog… or not. either way, i had to say something. cuz i’m a bigmouth.  my notes are in italics and bracketed. i call this the lazy blogging method.

Jill Scott, Interracial Dating, and Interracial Love Magazine!

“Not a day goes by that the question of “What do you think of interracial dating?” is not asked somewhere in social media land. It continues to be one of the hottest, highly debated, and most controversial topics of our time.” – Interracial Love Magazine, 2010

Due to the response of Jill Scott’s recent celebrity contribution to Essence Magazine, we decided to write our response.

But first, an introduction is on order. We are Interracial Love Magazine. We blog on topics that primarily support interracial love, sex, and dating between white men and black women. Unlike many blogs within our niche/category, Interracial Love Magazine is written primarily by a white male. [my first question: why is it called interracial love magazine, instead of black women dating white men magazine? race isn’t just about black & white folks, is it?]

As the site has grown, as well as the topic of interracial dating, we have felt the need to expand our content to discuss issues of white and black culture, race, and even celebrity news.

In Jill Scott’s case, you get all of the above!

We used to think that any attention to the subject of interracial dating was a good thing. But, Jill Scott dispelled that theory with one fell swoop.

For black women, there are internal mechanisms within themselves and their culture that prevent them from pursuing interracial relationships. Part of our work here on Interracial Love Magazine is to overcome these barriers. [what are the internal mechanisms within black women? name them specifically. can’t it be argued that those mechanisms are directly related to larger societal conditions/ norms that impact all ppl within US society, not just mechanisms within the culture of US black women only? if the primary writer of this blog is a white man and the writer of this post is that same white man, why is it his job to overcome barriers that aren’t his, unless those barriers serve specifically to keep him from dating black women? this implies that black women need saving from themselves. no good.]

In our view, nothing defies the social stigma of racism, prejudice, discrimination, oppression, and hate than interracial union. Jill Scott’s impulse to “wince” when she discovers her friend has a white wife defies this principle. [how so? maybe racism, prejudice, discrimination, oppression and hate are present in her life as a black woman in this world. this suggests a “sweep it under the rug” stance.  or, “it’s not a problem for me (white cis man in the US), so why/ how is it a problem for you?” not okay. how is this helping anyone, again, except the writer?]

In her article from Essence Magazine, she goes on to give a graphic account on the treatment of black people and how the white woman was revered and regarded in American society. She also mentions how black men and women stood together and shared a common struggle. This is true. And it’s important that we remember this part of American history. It should never be forgotten. [forgotten? possibly. depends on whose history you’re telling/ reading. often ignored & dismissed as an antiquated stance that has not evolved to conceal itself or withstood a shift in larger social consciousness? absolutely.]

“If a Black man even looked at a White woman, he would have been lynched, beaten, jailed or shot to death” – Jill Scott

Fortunately, since the days of slavery, and the beginning of what would be the Jim Crow era, things have changed in this country.

We are surrounded with many examples of interracial relationships connected to iconic beauty within white culture like Kim Kardashian and Reggie Bush… and Heidi Klum and Seal… just to point out a couple of the more recognized celebrities. [now, look. things have changed. but i don’t know how much they’ve changed w/ the very obvious lynching threats of the jena 6, and the noose found in the library (among other assorted madness) at UCSD this past february.  with these things — and what i imagine to be more incidents of racist fuckery, subtle as well as obvious — meeting black folks all over on the regular i can’t say that things have changed so much. i really can’t.]

Neither Seal nor Reggie Bush look fearful of retribution for their involvement with their white partners, do they? Do you think they look over their shoulder and wonder if a lyching [sic] rope (innit called a noose? shouldn’t you just call it that?) has been tied around the closest tree for them? …Please…  [reggie bush and seal, first off, have the luxury of being able to hire people to protect them from threats for being involved w/ non-black women. they have the luxury of having people read their mail for them, so they may never see any threats against them or their partners.  furthermore, reggie and kim k have breakup rumors swirling around them like flies around shit. why use them as an example at all? oh. wait.  nothing in your statement of intent says that your blog supports healthy relationships btwn black women and white men. never fucking mind.  (the argument that the person behind the twitter account said the kim & reggie example was used ‘for familiarity.’ plausible, but unwise in my opinion.  celebrities are usually not more familiar to us than people we actually engage with on the regular. are they? i mean, wait, does that mean i’m BFFs with erykah badu cuz i play her music a whole lot?)  also: that “…Please…” implies that jill’s calling to mind the jim crow era is exaggerated, or otherwise wrong. if that’s where her mind goes when she thinks of black men and white women, so be it. don’t be so dismissive.]

Also, Ms. Scott says: “Most of us end up doing this important work alone, with no fathers or like representatives, limited financial support (often court-enforced) and, on top of everything else, an empty bed. It’s frustrating and it hurts!”

I’m not quite sure what the message is here, do you? [aside from the grammatical error in this question: ask jill. or ask the essence editors. i’m sure someone will get back to you.  essence magazine has a great track record of engaging ppl in all kinds of discussion. for real.  also: this quote speaks to something that a white hetero man could never understand, because he’s never experienced it. the treatment of black folk as a monolith has fucked up repercussions. & i’ll leave it at that. but don’t start popping shit about something you’ve never experienced.  you don’t know what the message is because it really, really, really isn’t for you.  this is what privilege does: it lets you think everything is for or about you, even if/ when someone says ‘this isn’t for or about you.’]

If you read the statement, it implies that black men are shirking their paternal and financial responsibilities to their offspring and will only comply based on a judge’s order. Is that the case?  [in the context of the piece, it could definitely be suggested that she feels this way. again: ask. & ask some black men you know.]

If we said that here, every African-American reader would be leaving sharp biting comments to the effect we were “generalizing” or “miscategorizing” or “marketing negative stereotypes.” [you have no way of knowing what all of your black readership would say/ do.  but it’s quite possible that someone would take you to task for suggesting this. absolutely. the messenger, for some folks, has a lot to do w/ how the message is received.]

Yet, Jill Scott is free to slander black men at will. Is anyone offended here? Is she…”entitled?” [funny that entitlement would be mentioned here.  cuz you’re talking about something that wasn’t even pointed at you in the first place. i’m just saying, remember that you’re likely coming at this from a place of relative privilege. white privilege. male privilege. hetero privilege. cisgender privilege. mind your manners.]

It also suggests that the black woman feels abandoned and should be worthy of our concern and sympathy. [any human being is worthy of concern and sympathy, if you roll like that. i most certainly do.  and maybe some black women do feel abandoned! it’s valid if they’ve been abandoned, or told something along the lines of ‘you aren’t worthy of love’?  don’t you think? also, if you think that jill scott’s words paint black women as a group in need of rescue then kindly remove that fucked up and condescending tone from your line about the “internal mechanisms” of black women and our culture. again, mind your manners.]

We all are saddened by the plight and struggle of single mothers. [i don’t look at single parenthood as a pitiable plight. the writer of this blog post should speak for themselves. and i feel a “but…” coming on!]

But, that’s not Jill Scott’s agenda. Her goal is to “strike a nerve” among black men. [THERE’S THE “BUT”! where did she say that? if the writer of this post and i are reading the same piece, i sure as shit don’t see that. she said there’s a sting that has yet to stop burning.  & it’s true. because it ties into the idea that black women are not worthy of love. because emancipation was legal only, and did not make it so we received love and care. it did not stop the rapes, the mistreatment, the brutality, the distorted images.]

The reality is that black men have chosen to date outside their race for quite a while now. Black women could learn something from their male counterparts in this aspect. [shut the fuck up. black women could also benefit from an analysis of our situations as individual. especially when jill’s talking about us. to us. about black men. everyone isn’t dating the person they’re dating for the same reason. because we’re not a monolith. jill’s speaking from personal experience and possibly from conversations w/ other black women. you, if you are indeed the white man who’s primary writer of this blog, are speaking from what exactly? oh. your own personal experience? like i thought. back that train on up and remember that black women don’t owe an opening of their hearts to white men. the social stigma alone, which still exists ON ALL SIDES is a motherfucker.  nobody can undo years of conditioning by reading a blog post, or even through intense dialogue. leave individuals to their individual choices.]

Look, the bottom line is that black men do not owe anyone an explanation. Even Jill Scott. They are free to date anyone and any race of their choice. The same tactic is used on black women every day in blogs and social media to target them for “hating on their own race” or “emasculating their black men.” [that’s another generalization on the writer’s part. and what does “even jill scott” mean? did she say she wanted an explanation? does this writer know something that i don’t? what does an explanation have to do with the targeting of black women for emasculating black men? especially on twitter or facebook? this is not clear to me as a reader. honestly.]

Why is it that writers / bloggers are so selective and precise in their descriptions? [because they wanna be? creative license?]

Listen to how she delivers her “anonymous friend” to you in her piece: “handsome, African-American, intelligent and seemingly wealthy…”

Could you assume that if the gentleman that Jill Scott referred to in her article was some hardened thug, this article would have never been written?[it could be assumed. but if she was asked to write about interracial dating — black men w/ white women in particular — and the anonymous friend wasn’t part of a particular class standing, would the piece mean any less to certain folks? maybe. maybe not. we don’t know, cuz that isn’t what was published.]

In Summary

With Jill Scott’s influence and celebrity status in the black community, she could have set an enormous example by electing to throw her support behind equality, mutual respect and hope between black and white people in this country. [the path to mutual respect and equality begin and end w/ individuals. and i’m sorry, but why put that on her? and why this treatment of black women as a monolith who’ll listen to one person or go to one place for enlightenment? did jill say she hates white ppl? did she say any of that? i really don’t think that’s what was published… ]

Instead she added more confusion and dissention to an already complex issue. [dissent. not dissention. also: dissent implies that everyone was of one accord to begin with. probably not true. no group of people is a monolith.]

This is a blog. The advantage of a blog over a static website is that you have the opportunity to make a permanent impact with others simply by commenting on the articles here on Interracial Love Magazine. This is an important article. Leave your comments below.

Interracial Love Magazine is a monster on Twitter. We are very active and just as controversial. Follow us on Twitter here @Interracial_Mag.

Think about it. Want to be a leader? Follow Interracial Love Magazine.

**

my summary: jill scott isn’t the key to unlocking the imaginary ‘coloreds only’ chastity belts being worn by hetero black women in the states.  don’t put any of this on her. also: privilege is a motherfucker. i am choosing not to go into further discussion of this site, especially not its questionable (to me) sponsorship or overall tone of racial fetishizing, which slapped me in the face from the first time i clicked the link from twitter.

too caffeinated to sleep

& i don’t want to blog.
i feel like ppl are reading this blog who have no idea what it means (meant?) to me when i most need(ed) an outlet.
i feel like i’m censoring myself,
silencing myself so i don’t step on anyone’s hypersensitive, bitchmade, i’m-gonna-cry-wolf toes.
well.
that most certainly felt better than holding it in. there, i’ve said it: there are folks who subscribe to rss feeds of this very slice of interwebs who’d rather pick fights than love themselves
who’d rather assume the mantle of victimhood than fashion themselves into survivors
& who always think someone’s out to fucking get them simply by disagreeing w/ them. stupid, i know.
& even more stupid: i let that shit hold me back.
so.
gloves are off.
sensitive thugs, y’all all need hugs.
but don’t come the fuck over here with it.
yay, i made a cryptic blog post. fiqah, are you happy now? :-P it’s a post. it is. even if it’s only significant to ME. bit by bit, i’m coming back.

i don’t fully know why

but i’m really having a hard time believing that h-town &; jodeci really made a song together.
even though there’s videographic proof. ::sigh::

in no particular order, i blame the following for this shit here: trey songz, crack rocks, the death of gerald levert, the recession, waffle house, spectacular smith of pretty ricky, bad weed, the prison industrial complex, reaganomics (why the fuck NOT? that’s where crack rocks came from!), autotune, charlie wilson’s comeback (because these fools forgot that they weren’t ever on his level), jahiem (yeah, i said it), the good black man shortage myth, zane, malt liquor, crown fried chicken, fruity loops, & motherfucking blackplanet dot com. i would sue for damages, but as a black woman in america, i’ve learned that my complaints are usually only heard by those who give a damn to begin with. that’d be YOU, blog reader(s). all twelve of you.

& while we’re on former 90’s r&b starruhs, let’s take a gander at what aaron hall is doin w/ himself these days, shall we?

who dresses in their easter best to whisper to dogs?
is he using this $ to buy more suits?
note that there are no black folks letting this man into their homes. why? cuz we KNOW about aaron hall’s fool ass already!
his german sounds like his vietnamese sounds like his farsi sounds like his spanish. i’m just sayin.

now i have to watch coming to america to cleanse my mind. i hope it works.

presenting: the absurdity of tina knowles.

now, y’all know i love clothes. i live for sparkly, brightly colored shit that some may shy away from. but one day about two years ago i had the misfortune of discovering that tina knowles (mother of beyonce, solange, & play mama to kelendria) had unleashed on the unsuspecting & undeserving masses released, in addition to dereon, a line of clothing via the home shopping network’s website and live broadcasts.  be still, my heart! more profound fashion fuckery? i tuned into HSN to learn just what awaited me.  i wasn’t ready. not at all. & i know you aren’t, either.  let’s take a stroll down the hallowed halls of miss tina’s fashions. shall we?

first up:  the caged beast leather hobo handbag.  this thing is what nightmares are made of, i’m sure.

it originally sold for $250. WHAT? note that the bag not only has interchangeable inserts, but that they are all in an ambiguous “animal print”, sort of furry fabric! hence the name caged beast, i presume. cleva! i am still amazed that when i perused the hsn website around this time last year, there was an alarming note proclaiming that only three bags remained.  i have yet to see one of these bags in person — i pray that i never do. (& i do NOT believe for one second that the woman doing this video believes anything she’s saying. dig the clowning that begins at about 1:47.)

next: from the ‘heritage’ section of misstina.com, a bit of background (my notes in italics):

The visionary behind the Miss Tina Collection blessed with her mother’s talent and creative ability, Tina Knowles rose to fame as the gifted designer and world renowned stylist for her daughters, Beyoncé and Solange Knowles and Kelly Rowland and the Grammy award winning group, Destiny’s Child.  (oh, so she’s the one to blame for the piss-poor clothes in such fabrics as bright orange camoflage & “what is that, velvet?” worn by destiny’s child? don’t act like y’all don’t remember that shit from the soul train awards!)  This accomplished interior designer, celebrated author and talented chef, serves as the creative force for the collection. (what the fuck has cooking got to do w/ this? and she’s a celebrated author? for realzies? i can’t.)

Tina’s unique vision; a combination of high style, attention detail sprinkled with a taste of couture, enables her to create a distinctive blend fo signature and luxe for the Miss Tina Collection. (the comma splices and extreme misuse of a semicolon have made reading this so much more absurd for me. ugh. let me guess: miss tina herself wrote the shit, & nobody dared correct her on mechanics.)

further, the names miss tina gives to her creations are not indicative of any level of fashion knowledge. sorry to say. there’s no way she couldn’t have finessed “Quilted Entice Handbag with Pyramid Studs” into something else?  the same goes for the “Miss Tina Tall Boot with Studs“, “Miss Tina Logo-Print Studded Tapestry Peep-Toe Boots“, and “Cotton Shirt with Cuff“, which implies that the creole (don’t act like she doesn’t mention that shit at random) creative juices just were not flowing after a certain point. 

the fabric, y’all. the fucking fabric! the charmeuse, the not-even-modal jersey, the stretch denim (some of that shit is more than 3 percent lycra, which is nonsensical), & the crazy looking materials employed to make shoes all make me wonder what in the tangerine fuck is even going on here. i had the misfortune of coming across a miss tina dress in a local store. it was a mess. the cut was terrible (it even looked wack on the hanger), the fabric felt like the cheapest of cheap polyesters, & i think that for some reason the arms were inordinately huge. it was a hot pink tragedy w/ ruching (miss tina loves her some ruching!).  i felt bad for whomever paid full price for the damn thing a year ago. cuz it was most certainly hanging on the super duper last ditch effort clearance rack for $12. 

miss tina gives makeovers.

in conclusion, i’ll just say this: if you don’t understand what my big gripe is with tina knowles’ proliferation of bamma style, then simply do a google image search for ‘miss tina fashions’ & see what you come up with. i promise, you won’t be disappointed.  or, maybe you will? depends on what you’re expecting.

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a colored girl’s love letter.

(i was gonna write a letter to tyler perry, but i’ve decided against it.  for now, anyway.)

so i’ve been thinking about tyler perry being at the helm of this major motion picture adaptation of for colored girls. and i’ve been reading the choreopoem itself over and over again.  and something i’ve come to realize as a result of this development is that when there’s an adaptation of an original work, lots of things get changed and moved around. i think the “pass” he gets is that he’s going to adapt the choreopoem. which means to me that we’re likely to get the storylines of the women, but with some serious redux. since TP’s subject matter almost exclusively involves heavily dysfunctional black women & men, we’re gonna get the essence of crystal and beau willie brown. we’re going to get the concept of the latent rapist bravado piece, but maybe never the idea that it is never the victim’s fault.
it would pain me incessantly to see this choreopoem turned into an episode of jerry springer with a dash of church music thrown in at the end.  it seems that lots of women i know feel the same way — it would be so tragic to see something we love so deeply turned into yet another reason to hear oleta adams’ “many rivers to cross” or mariah carey’s “fly like a bird” in the context of something that really reduces the black woman’s experience to its lowest common denominator.

so i’ve been thinking about that, too. what is this film adaptation going to look like? is it going to follow the same basic archetype as his other films/ plays (emotionally damaged black woman/ women finding redemption after much pain and strife… with a heavy dose of jesus h. christ for upliftment)? according to the ‘dream cast’ article from broadway.com (linked above), the narratives of the ladies will be incorporated into perry’s own script that leads them to ‘the colored girls center’. i, personally, see lots of his tried-and-true storytelling methods. i feel like that’s a really bad idea, given that most of the impact that for colored girls has (in my experience) comes from the very fact that it is a CHOREOPOEM. not a scripted play with a set and huge cast. not a scripted film with a plot. because linear storytelling, though it can be impactful, is not in tune with how most of us reach our epiphanized selves. at the end of the piece, is there not the mantra of “i found god in myself/ and i loved her/ i loved her fiercely”?  what about that? knowing that most of tyler perry’s viewership identifies as christian, are we going to discuss the divine feminine in this movie? i doubt it. so, i’m pissed.  i think it’s apparent from this piece written by stacia on postbourgie that the concern of colored girls fans is very real, and definitely not imagined or overblown.

an idea i’ve wanted to do ever since playing “lady in green” back in my freshman year of college is to do a series of colored girls readings.  it could be really simple. dinner, cocktails, the reading, then a discussion with notes and feedback forms and stuff.

i will do this. in philly, in nyc, in dc . . . where ever.

interested? email me. sechitatgmaildotcom with colored girls dinner party in the subject header.

thanks.

peace.

help a sista out.

this post is not about me, but some women who need my/ your help: donna, angeline, and tatjiana.

the best words about donna’s situation come directly from her (link here), but also joan’s post is excellent and sums up most of my feelings.  as far as i know, nobody’s heard from her. i’ve been praying and holding her in my heart, above all. i ask you all to do the same, or more if possible.

also: a child in the DC area is missing.  i’ve seen posts on speak up and raven’s eye.

in NYC, a sista named angeline’s daughter has been taken from her. info here. do what you can; show up, show out, SPEAK up, and SPEAK out.

silence does not protect anyone.

on: somali pirates, lies, and defending what’s yours.

some words from johann hari via the independent, and a two-part interview with somali musician k’naan:

also, big shouts to the homie nezua for his post on the matter.  his words reflect my thoughts and feelings regarding this issue. 

of course, the moment some brown/ black folks decide to defend what’s theirs, it’s a problem. imperialism hasn’t ended just because all maps have been drawn.  this is an injustice, to say the least. the somali people have every right to defend themselves.

triggered. like a motherfucker.

my identity as a queer woman is hard-won.  through years of vascillation, denial, secrecy, and srategic planning dedicated to hiding myself from myself i am now working at being authentically myself. and a big part of that is being forthright with any potential lovers about my sexuality.  there is no introduction that goes, “i’m sparkle, and i’m bisexual”.  but there’s also no soap opera (or jenny jones) moment when i spring it on futureboo or presentboo in a space that she or he might find uncomfortable.  because that’s not how you treat folks.  my honesty has most likely cost me a relationship or three.  and i’m okay with that.  nobody wants to be in a relationship where they feel stifled instead of feeling edified.  so, it is with that knowledge i walk.  it’s not an easy walk: there are folks who don’t recognize my sexuality as legitimate compared to their own, there are folks who presume that i’m unaware of what i want in life (or in my bed), and there are also folks who believe that my queerness makes me impossible of being monogamous.

it is this completely erroneous belief/ assumption that makes me impossibly pissed off.  and it is this idea that made me want to write this blog post, because of a song called “think my girl (ay, ay)” by omarion.  this song gives what might be considered an inside view of a relationship between the narrator (whom i presume to be a hetero-identified person whose sex assignment at birth was male, who identifies as male/ man) and his girlfriend, whose behavior implies that she may be cheating on him with a female associate of hers.  this woman does not answer her phone when she’s with this friend, referred to as “the girl that doesn’t have a man” in the lyrics to the first verse. (you can listen for yourselves here, dear readers; i refuse to transcribe this shit.)  the hook of this song goes on to express that though the girlfriend is very physically affectionate with the narrator her behavior changes when around this friend of hers, has a better eye for attractive women than her paramour, and also presumes that the narrator is welcome in the bedroom with the girlfriend and whomever she’s cheating on him with.  the second verse includes some information about the narrator’s girlfriend and her friend having matching tattoos, and some “secret conversations” between the two women.

what bothers and upsets me is the fact that this song is a bunch of stereotypes and assumptions wrapped into one neat little sonic package.  this song is a symptom of the problem — it’s giving me hives when goddess knows i am allergic to bullshit.  this song neatly lists (for me, anyway) what seem to be the predominant, erroneous, widely held beliefs about bisexual women.

i have to acknowledge that  heterosexual privilege allows this song to exist.  heterosexual privilege allows the demonization of anyone who does not exemplify compulsory heterosexuality.

the narrator’s girlfriend is acting suspiciously (in his opinion, or per his explanation as narrator).  since there’s another woman involved in this (as either a friend or lover, possibly both), it’s implied that the girlfriend’s behavior can be attributed specifically to a sexual relationship with this other woman. so, this makes her hot-in-the-ass and unfaithful.  this also demonizes the presumed other woman; she’s got some kind of a stranglehold on the girlfriend’s mind, via sex. there’s no suggestion that the girlfriend is keeping company with this woman who “doesn’t have a man” because she’s sick. or because she’s got kids she needs help with. or an ailing relative. or something that is not about sex.  (could it be that only women sing/ write songs that discuss concern for other women? see: eve’s “love is blind”, destiny’s child’s “girl”, or the jazzyfatnastees’ “how sad”. i don’t think that this is the case, but i’m just asking.) let’s examine this: not answering the phone within an hour (verse 1), a friend with no man who’s often around (probably cuz she hasn’t got a man to keep her company), a knack for identifying a beautiful woman before her man does, and limited PDA when said manless friend is around — she’s just got to be cheating with this manless friend!  am i the only one who thinks this is rather base?  furthermore, bisexuality does not exclude any human being (male or female, cisgender or transgender) from monogamy! emotional immaturity may exclude one from being faithful to their partner.  (polyamory is not a condition of being bisexual, either. but let’s not talk about that right now.)

the idea that the narrator should try having an openly bisexual girlfriend implies that she’s open to having a threesome, which is also not a fact of bisexuality.  there are some bisexual folks who are not in any way interested in group sex.  this is also incredibly troublesome, as it feeds into the idea that the hetero man’s job is to conquer vaginae far and wide, that the sexuality is not valid if he’s not (a) involved or (b) giving approval to the sexual relationship.  hello: i’m autonomy, and i believe that i only need the person who utilizes me in order to be valid or legitimate. your dick hasn’t got anything to do with it, narrator (or anyone else).  that’s hetero privilege for you: you can do what you want, cuz there’s nothing “wrong” with the kind of sex you’re into.

bottom line, this song is offensive for a number of reasons.  ultimately, it turns a woman’s body into product, into object, into a commodity to be fetishized.  it takes away her humanity and reduces her autonomy to a jezebel’s supposed nature.  and no,  a pop song should not have the final say on how we as a larger society view sexuality. but, art often imitates life.  somebody, somewhere may think of this song and either identify with it on some level or forming opinions based on it.

of course, there are ideas that aren’t addressed in the lyrics of  “think my girl (ay, ay)”.  there’s nothing quite like the limited attitudes of some folks in the GLBTQ community to make a woman like myself feel even more boxed in.  there’s the idea that we are nasty, the flat-out lie that we are incapable of loving one person at a time, and most of all there’s the simple misconception that we are who we are because we’re hot in the ass.  not all of us are.  there are polyamorous heterosexual and homosexual people.  there are people who sabotage relationships by cheating, but that has nothing to do with their sexuality.  that’s an issue of emotional maturity, in my opinion.

a letter long overdue.

this is the first of what could be many blog posts in dialogue with goddess jaz at goddesses rising.  we have taken it upon ourselves to examine our feelings and thoughts on intimate partner violence, triggered by the rihanna/ chris brown incident.  this series will not just discuss them, but IPV against women across the board.  to facilitate a flow of words, jaz and i have opted to follow the letter writing format utilized by the women who write the kitchen table blog.  i intended to post my letter shortly after jaz’s initial post, but the words just would not come. alas, here i am now with more to say than i ever thought.

jaz:

first, thank you for agreeing to do this with me! it’s an honor and a privilege.  let’s see if we can’t make a dent.  

i’ve been rolling my thoughts around, trying to best articulate my disturbances around this whole thing and attempting to string those thoughts together to create a coherent point.  my mind keeps coming back to one simple point: this is bigger than these kids or twitter, bigger than any blogs or newspaper articles.  unnecessary violence, particularly in close relationships (romantic as well as familial) is a problem that belongs to each of us.  so, it is with that thought in the forefront of my mind that i’m processing the entire mess and the conversations/ actions that have resulted from it.  these conversations and actions concern me much more than the current state that either rihanna or chris brown is in right now.

my concerns reflect yours, definitely. and my initial desire was to see to it that we discussed the impact of various kinds of media (especially gossip blogs, twitter, facebook status updates, and the text message fowards) on public opinion.  but i’m now in a new space.

because i’ve seen a photograph of rihanna’s face after the incident.  i’m in angry mode. again. the gossip blogs have, from the beginning, been on my nerves in varying degrees.  but now one of these blogs is the source of the very photo i did NOT wanna see. it was easier to imagine the horror than to see it with my own eyes. not that it didn’t seem real before, but that it made the whole situation that much more real to me: rihanna’s privacy was not protected or respected.  not by persons in her camp or at the hospital where she was examined, not by people who know her or her alleged attacker, not by the LAPD employee who leaked her photo to the internet, and most certainly not by the media.  

this whole incident has a crazy tone to it, a media circus for lack of better words.  it went from speculation to insane made up justifications for the attack itself.  crazy rumors about STDs, jealous fits, and failed breakup attempts abounded. all the while, my concern was the repercussions in the world at large. children discussing these things amongst themselves (and sometimes with adults) might have concerns or questions similar to the grown folks who seemed to be all over the internet talking about it: how long had this been going on? was it likely to happen again? would they get back together? why would they get back together? in my opinion, it matters less what we know about chris and rihanna.  it matters much, much more what we know about the women who are counted in the statistics we hear about so often and the women whose stories we catch on the news. i believe that the seriousness of the situation itself was diminished greatly by the fact that this involves two “celebrities” instead of everyday citizens.  because they have wikipedia articles, we’re not supposed to know when we’ve encroached too much on their lives? yes, it is important to discuss intimate partner violence. yes, it is important to fans of an artist to know how well their favorite artist is doing. but what we don’t need to know — especially because neither chris brown’s people nor rihanna’s people haven’t said anything — is what kind of relationship they have. we don’t need to know any of that unless either of them decides that it is necessary (as part of their healing, and only then) to speak on the situation or the nature of their relationship. no. 

what we need to know is that violence is the norm for too many of us.  what we need to know is that children who grow up in abusive environs grow into teens and adults who don’t know how to deal with conflict in a non-violent way.  what we need to know is that intimate partner violence does not lie specifically in the hands of the men, of the women, of the heterosexual or the underprivileged.  there was a sentiment of, “they shoulda never gave you niggas money,” a la dave chappelle as rick james. but i give thanks that these two young folks have their privilege.  why? because we now have contemporary faces for this problem. there is now a more immediate reason to discuss these issues with our children, with our peers.  this is the opportunity we as concerned community members must utilize to have dicussions.  

i’ve struggled with what i wanted to say here, because i want it to be impactful and clear. but something i’ve realized over the past few days of writing is that murky situations very rarely yield clear responses. it takes time, it takes dissection, and sometimes it takes walking away from the issue and reviewing it with new perspective.

it is my prayer that these two young folks have some new perspective — and that if they have not yet gained it during their separation that they develop it — so that they  can begin to heal themselves.

giving words to the unspoken: intimate partner violence.

i am thankful every day that i’ve never dated someone who has or would hit me.  that is a terror i’ve never known, and pray that i never will.  i do know what intimate partner violence can do. the losses of asia, latoyia, and san-dee serve as reminders to us all that women die because of intimate partner violence (also known as domestic violence, or domestic abuse). the very idea of the typical domestic abuse victim is seared into the consciousness of many people in the united states: she’s timid, she’s probably very pretty, she is attacked without having provoked her mate, and she always goes back.  the attacker is always someone who’s been emasculated to some degree — maybe his education level isn’t what hers is (or anyone else’s, like being a 10th grade dropout when everyone else is at least a high school grad), or he’s dyslexic, or whatever.  it’s mister from the color purple concentrated, it’s laurence fishburn as ike turner, it’s every lifetime movie shitbag boyfriend joined together like voltron.  

it’s never the sparkling smile of chris brown that spits threats or curse words, bites you or calls you names.  it’s never rihanna’s pretty face that is pummeled with fists. it’s always some nameless or faceless couple on “cops.” it’s always someone whose name has been changed to protect her because he’s stalking her. (and it’s always a hetero couple, but that’s another issue for another time.)  and this seems to be the root of the problem to me: celebrity, or fame, and the perception of “our” stars as anything other than human.  they are not necessarily regarded as human, even in times of tragedy (see: the losses jennifer hudson’s, bill cosby’s, and the late marlon brando’s close family members).  they are still these perfectly unreal creations — half of “their” public’s imagination, and half illusion borne of spin doctors.  celebrity is a tricky thing.  it’s fleeting, but so demanding. what does this pressure cooker life do to someone who’s barely a maturing child when they enter it, and is simply fortunate to be a functioning adult if/ when they leave it?

i ask this question because i don’t believe for one minute that this is a black and white situation (meaning chris, the aggressor, bears all the fault or that rihanna, the victim, instigated her own ass kicking).  i take into account that chris witnessed domestic abuse for as many as 6 years of his life (that’s 1/3 of his time on earth, roughly).  i understand that the highly invasive reports that are being shared pretty much confirm that rihanna was upset over a potential (or continued) infidelity on chris’s part. i understand that it’s likely that brown no longer wished to be in a relationship with her — but check this out: you can end a relationship with someone without hitting them.  you can make your point clear without fists and bitemarks.  

my concerns are for the privacy and safety of both of these young people. there are threats being made against both of them, there’s a lot of hearsay and conjecture. there are terrible jokes being made. it is now a verb to chris brown someone — to beat their ass.  unacceptable.  the facts are known only by the persons who were present for the incident that was reported to the police.  that’s not for any of us to learn about or gossip about. this is deeper than whether someone gave someone herpes, or whether someone’s cheating on someone else.

it is indicative of the fact that we all have work to do: work to heal, work to grow, work to end cycles. violence is never okay in a relationship, regardless of who throws the first punch.  intimate partner violence exists when women hit men, when men hit each other, and when women hit women.  intimate partner violence exists when we are unable or unwilling to talk about what hurts or bothers us, and when we don’t understand that it’s never okay to strike someone you love.  unless it’s self defense, it is wrong. always wrong.

this interview that jay smooth did with elizabeth mendez berry speaks much to why it doesn’t matter specifically that it’s a celebrity dealing with intimate partner violence. 

i don’t know how to take this.

dear citizens of philadelphia:

i want us to do better. period. 

dear philadelphia police department:

remember that the stop snitching mentality is yours, too — only yours applies to your FOP brethren. you’re not fooling anyone.

the plight of the fucking year:

how am i gonna be loved and sustained when everyone’s either trying to fuck me because it’s cute, or make me their healer?
i am fetishized
i am othered
i am dismissed
i am misunderstood
i am desired, yes
i am sexy, absolutely
but what of it when you’re trying to get me to explain to you what sex with a woman feels/ looks/ smells/ tastes/ sounds like when it’s not about that to begin with?
what of it when you’re whispering behind my back to other women that i “just don’t know what [i] want,” that i’m greedy or confused?
that’s the same thing as telling me i’m being picky while i’m in the middle of an allergic reaction to fish.

fuck.
how do i deal with the isolation that seems to come from being dedicated to being myself?
what do i do when all i want is to be held, and to trust, to kiss & touch & build without being put on stage (or on blast)?

i am simply tired

of washing the blood from the hem of my skirt

not knowing whether it’s yours or mine

hearing the blood curdling screams of my ancestors as they overlap with the gritos of souls aching for justice & peace.

may the ancestors welcome you, adolph grimes.

may justice be visited swiftly upon those who snatched you away from this realm.  iba ara t’orun.

(and, for good measure, fuck the police.)

five things you can do right now about the oscar grant shooting.

(link courtesy of jay smooth)

Oscar Grant, an unarmed man, was killed by an Oakland police officer. Here are five things (compiled by Makani Themba-Nixon) that you should do right now to respond to the senseless death of this 22 year old Black man. Video footage of the shooting recently surfaced.

1. Digg the story so that the national media can pick up on it

2. Contact BART Director Carole Ward Allen and demand that 1) the officers involved be taken off duty without pay and charged and fully prosecuted; 2) there be an independent investigation of the shooting that includes a review of training and hiring practices; and 3) BART establish an independent residents’ review board for the police Call her at 510-464-6095 or email the BART Directors at BoardofDirectors@bart.gov

3. Call the BART police to complain about the officers’ conduct and demand immediate action: Internal Affairs: Sergeant David Chlebowski 510.464.7029,dchlebo@bart.gov; Chief of Police: Gary Gee 510.464.7022, ggee@bart.gov

Call them toll free at 877.679.7000 and press the last four digits of the phone number you wish to reach.

4. Talk it up on your blogs, networks and talk radio shows (call Michael Baisden 877-6BADBOY or Rev. Al, etc. to get this on the national radar)

5. Stay tuned for other actions, protests, etc., especially if you are in the Bay.

feeling that feeling again.

(yet another stream of consciousness)

you know the one.
where you’re disillusioned with just about everything, don’t feel like pretending anymore, & can’t even fathom maintaining the facade? that feeling. that if-you-don’t-get-the-fuck-outta-my-face-with-that-bullshit feeling. that feeling that leads you to believe you’re gonna come out on the other side of the coming week with fewer friends, more enemies & twelve new ways to tell someone to kiss your ass.

i’ve already written an imaginary resignation letter
already invited someone to put me on their personal do-not-call list
& next up is everyone’s favorite: family drama.
i’m not gonna go into great detail about it here, because the more i discuss it the more incensed i become. basically, my mom has decided that it’s my job to pick up the slack for her shortcomings — which are not major in the grand scheme of anything but mean everything because she’s trying to impress people — & i’m not really having it.
& it’s all culminating in my apartment.
i did not invite ppl over for thanksgiving (aka slaughter some indigenous ppl & call it a pilgrimage), yet the tired & huddled masses yearning to be fed are coming to apartment 3f like it’s times square on new year’s eve.
i’m between leaving and just locking myself in the bedroom & not allowing anyone passage through the bedroom into the bathroom. can’t decide which just yet. because i’m too busy being mad.

it’s a lot deeper than what i discuss here; my family is still my family, & if i were to type the whole sordid tale y’all would be paying for my shit as a .pdf on lulu.com.

but suffice it to say:
this time of year always kicks up shit for a lot of reasons
& every year i strive to be better at handling it. not functioning through a fog or haze
but more lucid, more transparent because that’s how i wish to live my life overall
& it seems like the freer i get,
the more ppl try to pull me back into that shit
lie to make it look better
fake it ’til you make it
don’t say anything inappropriate until after one year passes and the comfort level increases
be everyone’s helpmeet
don’t be so aggressive
. . . fuck that.
fuck the fronting
i’m not here for that
i’ve spent the better part of the last 10 years trying to find myself under the layers of shit other people have put on me, and now, because you want to impress someone else with some imaginary cosby-esque family that doesn’t even exist, i have to participate?

i can’t do it.

ppl start acting crazier the closer it gets to the winter solstice.
i personally don’t give a shit how much you’re going through, just don’t make it my job to deal with.

next year, i’m going into hiding at thanksgiving and not coming out until after MLK day.