bell hooks - Black Looks_ Race and Representation -South End Press (1999).pdf
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$12.00 Feminism/BlackStudies/CulturaICriticism
BLACK LOOKS: rac~ :JnJ representation
bell hooks
In these twelve new essays, feminist theorist and cultural critic
bell hooks digs ever deeper Into the personal and political con
sequences of contemporc:"',' representations of black women
and men within our white supremacist culture. Taking on
popular music, advertising, literature, television, historical
narrative, and, most importantly, film, hooks consistently dem
onstrates the incisive intelligence and passion for justice that
prompted Publishers Weekly to dub her "one of the foremost
black intellectuals in America today."
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The critical. essays in this -
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ance.
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bell hooks is a writer and professor who speaks widely on
issues of race, class, and gender. Her previous books include
Ain't Ia Woman, Feminist Theory, Talking Back, Yearning, and
most recently, with Cornel West, Breaking Bread: Insurgent
Black Intellectual Life.
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BLACK LOOKS
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c::I race and representation
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.bell hooks
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Cover design by Julie Ault and G. Watkins
( South End Press ISBN: 0-89608-433-7
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4. I dedicate this book to all of us who love blackness,
who dare to create in our daily lives
spaces ofreconciliation and forgiveness
where we let go of past hurt, fear, shame
and hold each other close.
It is only in the act and practice
of loving blackness
that we are able to reach out
and embrace the world ~
without destructive bitterness
and ongoing collective rage.
Holding each other close across differences,
beyond conflict, through change,
is an act of resistance.
I am especially grateful to those
who hold me close and do not let me go;
to those ofyou who challenge me
to live theory in a place beyond words
(to you Angela, Anthony, Anu, Gwenda,
Julie, Karen, Paul, Susan, Valeria,
and those unnamed
whom my heart remembers).
/.t"
Introduction
Revolutionary Attitude
Decolonization...continues to be an act ofconfrontation With a hege
monic system ofthought; it ts hence a process ofconsiderable htstorical and
cultural ltberatton. As such, decolonization becomes the contestation of all
dominant fotmS and structures, wbetber tbey be Itngutsttc, dtscurslve, or
ideological. Moreover, ~oniz~!jQ!Lg}.1J1eLllLba.utUierstood, as an IJt:Lof
exorcism B!r:. @!!J...Jb.tLc..Ql(Jni~e.4..ard tb,f1 colonizer. For both parNes it must be
aprocessofliberation:from dependency, in tbe caseOftbe colonized, andfrom
imperialtst, ractstpercepttons, representations, and institutions wbicb, unfor
tunately, remain Witb us to tbts very day, in tbe case oftbe colonizer..~
onizatton can only be complete..w..ben it ts understood as a complex process
that involves botb t'JfLc,olonizerand tbe colonized.
..---" _.*" -'------"'----.'-----
-Samia Nehrez
Ifwecompare the relative progress AfricanAmericans have made
in education and employment to the struggle to gain control over how
we are represented, particularly in the mass med!.a, we see that there
has been little change in the area of representation. Opening a maga
zine or book, turning on the television set, watching a film, or looking
at photographs in public spaces, Y:f...e are most ~~Y.: t02~~ im~g~JL2f.
~~.£ele that reinfo~c~.~!!~!,~iQ,?_cribe.....white-suPJ~.~CX' Those
images may be constructed bywhite people who have not divested of
racism, or by people of colorlblack people who may see the world
through the lens of white supremacy-internalized racism. Clearly,
those of us committed to black liberation struggle, to the freedom and
self-determination of all black people, must face daily the tragic reality
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5. 2
3
BLACK LOOKS
that we have collectively made few, ifany, revolutionaty interventions
in the area of race and representation.
Theorizing black experience in the United States is a difficult task.
Socialized within white supremacisteducational systems andbya racist
mass media, many black people are convinced that our lives are not
complex, and are therefore unworthy of sophisticated critical analysis
and reflection. Even those of us righteously committed to black libera
tion struggle, who feel we have decolonized our minds, often find it
hard to "speak" our experience. ~Qr.<;u>..;!iJ:!fuL~~_issues Yi~
confront.thegreaterQJ.ll".inarticulatep.ess. James Baldwin understood
this. In The Fire Next Time, he reminded readers that "there has been
almost no language" to describe the "horrors" of black life.
Without a way to name our paint-we.J4re also without the words
--.---~--- -.---~-.-- -_.----.,. ----------
to articulate ourQleasure. Indeed, a fundamental task of black critic~l
thinkers has been the struggle to break with the hegemonic modes of
seeing, thinking, and being that block our capacity to see ourselves
oppositionally, to imagine, describe~ and invent ourselves in ways that
are liberatoty. Without this, how canwe challenge and invite non-black
allies and friends to dare to look at us differently, to dare to break their
colonizing gaze?
Speaking about his recent film The Camp at Thiaroye, African
filmmakerOusmane Sembene explains; "You must understand that for
people like us, there are no such things as models. We are called upon
to constantly create our models. For African people, Africans in the
diaspora, it's pretty much the same. Colonialism means that we must
always rethink evetything." C~!I~I1Re.9_...tQ...!'ethink.-insurg<mt...blad<
intellectl,l?:I~.a.nC¥~r~r.ti.§!S_areJ.ookingat nevy ways to. write_and-.tal.k
~f3.~nd representa~~E~ki.t!&lo tt:ansf01TI!.th~ if!leg~.
Th_~re i~a dir~<:t a11d abiding connection betwee!l themaintenan~e ~
,of white supremacist patriarchy in this society and }J.1e)!1stitu- r
tionalizationvia mass.rnediaJ::{sPJ~9ficimage§, representations ofrace,
'6Tbiacknessthat support and maintain the oppression, exploitation,
and overall domination ofall black people. Long before white suprem
acists ever reached the shores of what we now call the United States,
they constructed images ofblackness and black people to uphold and
affirm theirnotions ofracialsuperiority, theirpoliticalimperialism, their
will to dominate and enslave. Fromslavetyon, whitesupremacists have
recognized that control over images is central to the maintenance of
any system of racial domination. In his essay "~.t1ltuC!iLJd~nJi.~~!lQ.
Diasp()ra," §.~a.rtJ:Iali emphasizes that we can properly understand the
Introduction
traumatic character of the colonial experience by recogruzmg the
connection between domination and representation:
The ways in which black people, black experiences, were
positioned and subjected in the dominant regimes of
representation were the effects of a critical exercise of cultural
power and normalization. NQt only, in Said's "orientalist"
sense, ,were·we constructep~ruLmheu?dt:lin_tl1.e
categories orknowledge of the West by those...t:egi~Thei
""fi"'a""d"';th"""e"""p-~
..J!!!~.u"u.ee..:aJl0_~petie.nce..aurselt;es....as
i'b"tfi'ef":::.It is orie thing to position a subject or set of peoples
aSt~Other of a dominant discourse. It is quite another thing
to subject them to that "knowledge,» not only as a matter of
imposed will and domination, but by the power of inner
compulsion and subjective conformation to the norm.
That the field of representation remains a place of struggle is most
evident when we critically examine contemporaty representations of
blackness and black people.
Iwas painfully reminded ofthis fact recentlywhen visiting friends
on a once colonized black island. Their little girl is just reaching that
stage ofpreadolescent life where we become obsessedwith ourimage,
with how we look and how others see us. Her skin is dark. Her hair
chemically straightened. Not only is she fundamentally convinced that
straightened hair is more beautiful than curly, kinky, natural hair, she
believes that lighterskin makes one more worthy, more valuable in the
eyes of others. Despite her parents' effort to raise their children in an
affirming black context, she has internalized white supremacist values
and aesthetics, a way of looking and seeing the world that negates
her value.
Of course this is not a new stoty. I could say the same for my
nieces, nephews, and millions ofblackchildren here in the States. What
struck me about this little girl was the depths of her pain and rage. She
was angty. And yet her anger had no voice. It could not say, "Mommy,
I am upset that all these years from babyhood on, I thought I was a
marvelous, beautiful gifted girl, only to discover that the world does
not see me this way." Often she was "acting out"-behaving in a
manner that in my childhood days would have made older "colonized"
black folks talk about her as evil, as a little Sapphire. When I tried to
intervene and talk with her mother about the need to directly address
issues of race and representation, I sensed grave reluctance, denial
even. And it struck me that for bl~peQpJe, the pain of learning that
.we cannot control our ima~~:l9..yt we see ourselves (if our vision is
6. 4 5
BLACK LOOKS
not decolonized), or how we are seen is so intense.thatJt..,o;:nd.'lJJs. It
"'----~- .... ---"'."'- " , . . , . ..,.- .. "
rips and tears at the seams of our efforts to construct self and identify.
Often it leaves us ravaged by repressedrage, feeling weary, dispirited,
and sometimes just plain old brokenhearted. These are the gaps in our
psyche that are the spaces where mindless complicity, self-destructive
rage, hatred. and paralyzing despair enter.
::r.2~~s_e~_n~~Qj).eaLtb~, progressive black people
and our allies in struggle must be willing to grant the effort to critic~!!y
!.~t~rvt'!!1_e_~~ trat::~!;he_~Q.dd...aLima~ mak:jDuutl).9n~place,
inourpoliticalmovements oLlibJ,::r.ationand self-determinati2n(be they
anti-rmpeikhst, feIDinist, gay rights, blackllberntlon, orall ofthe above
and more). Ifthis were the case, we would be ever mindful of the need
to make radical intervention. We would consider crucial both the kind
of images we produce and the way we critically write and talk abollt!
images. And most important, we would rise to the challenge to speak
that which has not been spoken.
Forsome time now the critical challenge for black folks has been
to expand the discussion of race and representation beyond debates
about good and bad imagery. Often what is thought to be good is
merely a reaction against representations created by white people that
were blatantly stereotypical. Currently, however, we are bombarded
by black folks creating and marketing similar stereotypical images. It is
not an issue of "us" and "them." The issue is really one of standpoint.
From what political perspective do we dream, look, create, and take
action? For those ofus who dare to desire differently, who seek to look
away from the conventional ways of seeing blackness and ourselves,
the issue of race and representation is not just a question of critiquing
the status quo. It is also about transforming the image, creating alterna
tives, asking ourselves questions about what types of images subvert,' /
pose critical alternatives, and transform our worldviews and move us
away from dualistic thinking about good and bad. Making a space for
the transgressive image, the outlawrebel vision, isessential to anyeffort
to create a context for transformation. And even then little progress is
made if we transform images without shifting paradigms, changing
perspectives, ways of looking.
The critical essays gathered in Black Looks: Race and Represen
tation are gestures of defiance. They represent my political struggle to
push against the boundaries of the image, to fmd words that express
what I see, especiallywhen I am looking in ways thatmove against the
grain, when I am seeing things that most folks want to believe simply
are not there. These essays are about identity. Since decolonization as
Introduction
,a political proceS$isalways a struggleto defme ourselves inand beyond
the act ofreSistance to domination, we are always in the process ofboth ,
rememberingthepastevenaswecreate newways toimagine and n1ake .
the.future.""
StuartHall names this process eloquently in this powerful state
ment, again from the essay "c::ulturalldentity and Diaspora?:
Cultural identity...is a matterof "becoming" as well as "being." It
belongs to the future as much as to the past. It is not something
which already exists, transcending place, time, history, and cul
ture. Cultural identities come from somewhere, have histories.
But, like everything which is histOrical, they undergo constant·
transformation. Far from being eternally fIXed in some es
sentialized past, they are subject to the continuous "play" of
history, culture and power. Far from being grounded in a mere
"recovery" of the past, which is waiting to be found, and which,
when found, will secure our sense of ourselves into eternity,
identities are the names we give to the different ways we are
positioned by, and pOSition ourselves within, the narratives ofthe
past.
InBlackLooks, lcriticallyinterrogate old narratives, suggesting alternative
ways to look at blackness, black subjectivity, and, ofnecessity, whiteness.
While also exploring literature, music, and television, many of
these essays focus on film. The emphasis on film is so central because
it, more than any other media experience, determines how blackness
and black people are seen and how other groups will respond to us
based on their relation to these constructed and consumed images. In
the essay".wru:k feminism: The Politics of Articulation," filmmaker
Pratibha Parmar states,' "I.mage.!y~y a S!!!..~ rpIe.in def~_~Il9. '
control' the oliticaland social ower to .ch bothindividuals and
.~zed groues, ave..access. The. deeply ideol!>a!cal 116~fi of
iin.=determinesnotoiiIrJigw.otherpeople think about us ut ow
w· . a~utour§~ ..
Many audiences in the United States resist the idea that images
have an ideological intent. This is equally true of black audiences.
Fierce critical interrogation is sometimes the only practice that can
pierce the wall of denial consumers of images construct so as not to
face that the real world of image-making is political-that politics of
domination inform theway the vast majority ofimages we consume are
constructed and marketed. Most black folks do not want to think
critically about why they can sit in the darkness of theaters and find
7. 6 BLACK LOOKS
pleasure in images that cruelly mock and ridicule blackness. That is
why many of the essays in Black Looksfocus on spectatorship.
~ I ask that we cgnsider the pers2.c:!Qive from..cwhicb...Wt'!.lo2k.
Vigilantly asking ourselves who, d()_w~jd~p.tify_w.ith.,:Y{bQ~e_image do ..
~~.'.IQ~~.'__A!ld if we, black J~~optc:!~J)!ly.~J5!~rned.. tOcheri~h hateful
images of ourselves, then what process of10oltingaUows us to c6unt~r
the 'seductlon'oflmage.s mat'thfeatens todeb,1,!m~l1.ize.and_colooi.~~.
Cl~ar1Y;~ifis'th~lt wayofse~ing.which Il1,~~es_P9s.:s.~b.!e..,aniI!-tegr!!y"'gf
being that can subvert the pow:<:!.r..o(the,coloniz~g itp.ag<=!.l!.-is only as~.
~~~Ctiv~~ cl!.a,rtg~.tl1~.waywejQokatn!JI:1?.<!lv~§ a~~Ltb.e.Forid that!"
"'!Ie can'glang<=! h()~ we ares.e.eQ,~ In this process, we seek to create a .
world'where everyone can look at blackness, and black people, with
new eyes.
In 1962, at the age of thirty-two, only a few years before her"
unexpected death from cancer, black woman playwright Lorraine
Hansberry wrote a letter in response toa "white farm boy living on a
rich, fertile farm on the Mason-Dixon line" who was concerned that
black people were becoming too militant. She answered that "the
condition ofour people dictates what can only be called revolutionary
attitudes." In the lettershe also declared, "The acceptance ofourpresent
condition is the only form ofextremism which discredits us before our
children." Many black folks refuse to look at our present condition
because they do not want to see images that might compel them to
militance. But militancy is an alternative to madness. And many of us
are daily entering the realm of the insane. like Pecola, in Toni
Morrison's The Bluest Eye, black folks tum away from reality because
the pain ofawareness is so great. Yet it is only by becoming more fully
aware that we begin to see clearly.
~~!cp'eE~~~.-2~Lco!l~<;..g~e_cri~!.~,~~rt<2.9-.:Arn~IiE~..Y..~~
within the realm of the image. Whether it is the face of homeless folks
encounfe'redin cit¥streetSor;mall town alleyways, thewandering gaze
of the unemployed, the sight ofour drug addicted loved ones, or some
tragic scene from a film that lingers in the mind's eye, we see that we
are in trouble. I can still see the images of young black men brutally
murdering one another that were part of the fictional narrative oUolm.
~ingleton'sfil~,:9'0Y3-:EJg~RQQd·.~lmage§ were painfyl towat,h.
That is how it should!?e. It should hurtour eyes to se(;!-!·l!cia1.g~!1Qddl:!,
j>erpetuatecHnblack cpmmunities,whether fictional or real. Yet, in the
the-;ter'where (saw:"this film, the'largely black audience appeared to
find pleasure in these images. This response was powerful testimony,
revealing that those forms of representation in white supremacist
7
Introduction
society that teach black folks to internalize racism are so ingrained in
our collective consciousness that we can find pleasure in images ofour
death and destruction. What can the future hold if our present enter
tainment is the spectacle of contemporary colonization, dehumaniza
tion, and disempowerment where the image serves as a murder
weapon. Unless we tran§{Qrm.iVla.ges,of blackness......of blacl<.p,eoPI!'!.,, /'
~r ways of looking and our ~~R..~ng,J>_~_~!1,-'o/.~,_qlnnoLmak,e
,~clical..in.t.~!Y..~.I1ti.ons..tbauv.indamentally altet:.9.u!. ~L~a,t!Q,n!
This struggle needs to include non-black allies as well. Images of
race and representation have become a contemporary obsession. Com
modification ofblackness has created a social context where appropri
ation by non-black people of the black image knows no boundaries. If
the many non-black people who produce images or critical narratives
about blackness and black people do not interrogate their perspective,
then they may simply recreate the imperial gaze-the look that seeks
to dominate, subjugate, and colonize. This is especially so for white
people looking at and talking about blackness. In his essay ':Ill~
Mi~c~g~!1a.Je~LQa:ze/~ .Qla~k !11a1e artisL<;;hn,sJian.....Walker suggests, "If
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;;Wte artists,comntitted to the creation of a non-racist, non-sexist and
non-hierarchical society, are ever to fully understand and embrace their (
own self-identity and their own miscegenated gaze, they will have to
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embrace and celebrate the concept of nOri-white subjectivity~" Their
ways of looking must be fundamentally altered. They must be able to (
engage in the militant struggle by black folks to transform the image.
As a radical intervention we must develop revolutionary attitudes
about race and representation. To do this we must be willing to think (
critically about images-. We must be willing to take risks. The essays in (
Black Looksare meant to challenge and unsettle, to disrupt and subvert.
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They may make some folks get mad, go off, or just feel upset. Jb~Us
t!l~)Qea,-to provQke.JI.pd.~gag<!..· Like that photographic portrait of (
Billy Holiday by Moneta Sleet I love so much, the one where instead of
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a glamonzed image of stardom, we are invited to see her in a posture
.of thoughtful reflection, her arms bruised by tracks, delicate scars on (
her face, and that sad faraway look in her eyes. When I face this imag~, 1
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this blackJ2?~)_~omething in ~e!;!:ered. Ij!~y_e.l()"'pi,~~p.!..~
~nd piec~s ofmy~.<:~and start a1Lo~r..again-transfut:m~gJ~y_fue image. (
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8. "P!
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Chapter 1
Loving Blackness
as Political Resistance
We have to change ourown mind... We'vegotto change ourown minds
about each other. We have to see each other with new Eryes. We have to come
together with warmth...
-Malcolm X
The course I teach on blackwomenwriters is a consistentfavorite
among students. The last semester that I taught this course we had the
usual passionate discussion of Nella Larson's novel PtJSSirtg: When I
suggested to the class (which hadbeenmoceeagerto'Cuscuss the desire
ofblack folks to be white) that Clare, the black womanwho has passed
for.white all her adult life and married a wealthy white businessman
with whom she has a child, is the only character in the novel who truly
desires "blackness" and that it is this desire that leads to her murder, no
one responded. Clare boldly declares that she would rather live for the
rest of her life as a poor black woman in Harlem than as a rich white
matron downtown. I asked the class to consider the possibility tha!J9
~~kn~.Q8erQ!l~t~~:whit~u.p~acist cultl!te-so threat
ening, so serious a breach in the fabric ofthe social order, that death is
the punishment. It became painfully obvious by the lack of response
that this group of diverse students (many of them black people) were
more interested in discussing the desire of black folks to be white,
indeed were fIXated on this issue. So much so, that they could not even
take seriously a critical discussion about "loving blackness."
9
9. 10 11
BLACK LOOKS
They wanted to talk about black self-hatred, to hear one another
confess (especially students of color) in eloquent narratives about the
myriad ways they had tried to attain whiteness, if only symbolically.
They gave graphic details about the ways they attempted to appear
"white" by talking a certain way, wearing certain clothing, and even
choosingspecificgroups ofwhite friends. Blondewhite Students seized
the opportunity to testify that they had never realized racism had this
impact upon the psyches of people of color until they started hanging
out with black friends, taking courses in Black Studies, or reading Toni
Morrison's Tbe BluestEye. And betteryet, they never realized there was
such a thing as "white privilege" until they developed non-white
connections.
I left this class of more than forty students, most of whom see
themselves as radical and, progressive, feeling as though I had wit- ""
nessed a ritualistic demonstration of the impact white supremacy has
on our collective psyches, shaping the nature ofeveryday life, how we
talk, walk, eat, dream, and look at one another. The I!!2§.t~.
aspect of this ritual was.tlle. .extent tQ.J!IhichJheJr..la.§g.§~on with the
i~fc'ofblacl<_self-b~~nse thaEt~!.eE<:~~..E!YS~ttu..£ti..!e
,diSCUSSion abutlovin..8 blac~n.e~.'Most folks in this society do notwant
to openly admit that "blackness" as sign primarily evokes in the public
imagination ofwhites (and all the other groups who learn that one of
the qUickest ways to demonstrate one's kinship within a white suprem
acist order is by sharing racist assumptions) hatred and fear. In a white
supremacist context "loving blackness" is rarely a political stance that
is reflected in everyday life. When present it is deemed suspect, dan
gerous, and threatening.
The oppositional black culture that emerged in the context of
apartheid and segregation has been one of the few locations that has
provided a space for the kind of decolonization that makes loving
blackness possible. Racial integration in a social context where white
supremacist systems are intact undermines marginal spaces of resis
tance by promoting the assumption that social equality can be attained
withoutchanges in the culture's attitudes about blackness and black'j~
people. Black progressives suffered major disillusionment with white
progressives when our experiences ofworkingwith them revealed that
they could want to be with us (even to be oursexual partners) without
divesting ofwhite supremacist thinking about blackness. We saw that
they were often unable to let go the idea that whites are somehow
better, smarter, more likely to be intellectuals, and even that they were
kinder than black folks. Decolonized progressive black individuals are
Loving Blackness as Political Resistance
daily amazed by the extent to which masses of black people Call of
whom would identify themselves as anti-racist) hold to white suprem
acist ways ofthinking, allowing this perspective to determine how they
see themselves and other black people. Many black folks see us as
"lacking," as inferior when compared to whites. The paucity of schol
arly work looking at the issue ofblack self-hatred, examining the ways
inwhich the colonization and exploitation ofblack people is reinforced
by internalized racial hatred via white supremacist thinking, is awe
some. Few black scholars have explored extensively black obsession
with whiteness.
Black theologian James Cone has been one of the few insurgent
black intellectuals who has consistently called for critical interrogation
of "whiteness" while simultaneously problematizing constructions of
white identity within white supremacist culture. In his early work, A
Black Tbeology olLiheration, Cone urges folks to understand blackness
as an "ontological symbol" that is the quintessential signifier of what
oppression means in the United States. Cone calls upon whites, blacks,
and all other non-black groups to stand against white supremacy by
choosing to value, indeed to love, blackness. Boldly stating his case,
Cone suggests:
Most whites, some despite involvements in protests, do believe in
"freedom in democracy," and they fight to make the ideals of the
Constitution an empirical reality for all. It seems that they believe
that, ifwe just work hard enough at it, this country can be what it
ought to be. But it never dawns on these do-gooders that what is
wrong with America is not its failure to make the Constitution a
reality for all, butrather its beliefthatpersons can affirm whiteness
and humanity at the same time. This country was founded for
wWtes and everything that has happened in it has emerged from
the white perspective...What we need is the destruction ofwhite
ness, which is the source of human misery in the world.
Not surprisingly, many ofCone's readers were disturbed by his evoca
tion of a binary approach. At first glance it can appear to be a mere
reversal ofwhite racist paradigms. Blackness in much ofhis early work
is identified with that which is good, righteous, positive and whiteness
with all that is bad, negative, sinful.
Conewanted tocriticallyawaken and educate readers so that they
would not only break through denial and acknowledge the evils of
white supremacy, the grave injustices of racist domination, but be so
moved that theywould righteously and militantly engage in anti-racist
struggle. Encouraging readers to break with white supremacy as an
10. 12 13
BLACK LOOKS
epistemological standpoint by which they come to know the world, he
insisted that "whiteness" as a sign be interrogated. He wanted thepublic
to learn how to distinguish that racism which is about overt prejudice
and domination from more subtle forms of white supremacy. In his
early work, he frequently chose a rhetoric that would "shock" so as to
forcefully impress on the reader's consciousness the seriousness ofthe
issues. Unfortunately, many readers were turned off by his rhetorical
stance, his emphasis on binary opposition, and could not hear the
wisdom in his call for a critique of whiteness. By focusing on his
personal style, many readers willingly allowed themselves to dismiss
and/or ignore the extent to which (all polemical rhetoric aside) his
discourse onwhiteness was a.necessary criticalintervention, callingfor
ongoing interrogation of conventional ways of thinking about race or
about strategies to eradicate racism. ..~
Cone was suggesting the kind of shift in positionality that has
become a crucial and widely accepted tenet of anti-racist struggle
advocated in muchrecentcriticalwork on thesubject ofrace, especially
the work that emerges from feminist theory, cultural studies, and
postcolonial discourse. Whether they are able to enact it as a lived
practice or not, many white folks active in anti-racist struggle today are
able to acknowledge that all whites (as well as everyone else within
white supremacist culture) have learned to over-value "whiteness"
even as they simultaneously learn to devalue blackness. They under
stand the need, at least intellectually, to alter their thinking. Central to
this process of unlearningwhite supremacist attitudes and values is the
deconstruction of the category "whiteness:"'" ,..
It is much more acceptable nowadays, and even fashionable, to
call for an interrogation ofthe meaning and Significance of"whiteness"
in contemporary critical discussions ofrace. While Cone's analysis waS
sometimes limited by a discourse that invested in binary oppositions
(refusing to cut white folks any slack), the significant critical interven
tion that he made was the insistence that the logic ofwhite supremacy
wouldbe radicallyundecrninedifeveryonewould learn to identifywith
and love blackness. Cone was not evoking the notion ofracial erasure,
that is, the sentimental idea (oftenvoiced by religious folks) thatracism
would cease to exist if everyone would just forget about race and just
see each other as human beings who are the same. Instead he insisted
that the politics of racial domination have necessarily created a black
reality that is distinctly different from that of whites, and from that
location has emerged a distinct black culture. His prophetic call was for
Loving Blackness as Political Resistance
whites to learn how to identify with that difference-to see it as a basis
for solidarity.
This message can be heard in current feminist writing on race.
Moving away from the notion that an emphasis on sameness is the key
to racial harmony, aware feminist activists have insisted that anti-racist
struggle is best advanced by theory that speaks about the importance
of acknowledging the way positive recognition and acceptance of
difference is a necessary starung point as we work to eradicate white
supremacy. Critically discussing Richard Rorty's book Contingency,
Irony andSolidarity, philosopher RonScaap, in his essay "Rorty:Voice
and the Politics of Empathy," makes the point that liberals often give
lip service to a vision ofdiversity and pluralitywhile clinging to notions
of sameness where we are all one, where (to use Michael Jackson's
lyrics) "it doesn't matter ifyou're black or white." Scaap suggests,
f ;,
~~
Liberals maypride themselves in their ability to tolerate others but
,;' .it is only after the other has been redescribedas oneself that the
t! .liberal-is able-to.be "sensitive" to the question orcruelty and
i ;hurniliation. This act of redescription is still an attempt to appro
I .v' priate others, only here it is made to sound as ifit were a generous
I ./ act. It is an attempt to make 'an acrof consuniptionappear to be, ..
, .anactof acknowledgment... l'
Many unlearning racism workshops focus on helping white
individuals to see that they too are wounded by racism and as a
consequence have something to gain from participating in anti-racist
struggle. While in some ways true,a construction ofpolitical solidarity
,that is rooted in-a narrative of shared Victimization not only aCts to
,recenterwhites;it risks obscuring the particularways racist domination
,impacts.on the lives ofmarginalized groups. Implicit in the assumption
that even those who are privileged via racist hierarchy suffer is the
notion that it is only when those in power get in touch with how they
too are vict1mized will they rebel against structures of domination. The
truth is that many folks benefit greatly from dominating others and are
not suffering a wound that is in any way similar to the condition of the
exploited and oppressed.
Anti-racist work that tries to get these individuals to see them
selves as "victimized" by racism in the hopes that this will act as an
.intervention is a misguided strategy. And indeed we must be willing to
acknowledge that individuals of great privilege who are in no way
victimized arecapable, Via theirpolitical chOices, ofworking on behalf
of the oppressed. Such solidarity does not need to be rooted in shared
"
11. 14 BLACK LOOKS
experience. It can be based onone's political and ethical understanding
of racism and one's rejection of domination. Therefore we can see the
necessity for the kind of education for critical conSciousness that can'
enable those with power and privilege rooted in structures ofdomina::
tion to divestwithouthaving to see themselves asvictim_so Such thinking
does not have to negate collective awareness that a culture ofdomina
tion does seek to fundamentally distort and pervert the psyches of all
citizens or that this perversion is wounding.
In his work, Cone acknowledges that racism harms whites yet he
emphasizes the need to recognize the difference between the hurt
oppressors feel and the pain of the oppressed. He suggests:
The basic error of white comments about their own oppreSSion is
the assumption that they know the nature of their enslavement. -"
This cannotbe so, because ifthey really knew, they would liberate
themselves by joining the revolution of the black community.
They would destroy themselves and be born again as beautiful
black persons.
Since it is obvious that white folks cannot choose at will to become
"black," that utopian longing must be distinguished from a solidarity
with blackness that is rooted in actions wherein one ceases to identify
with whiteness as symbol of victimization and powerlessness.
Recently, I gave a talk highlighting ways contemporary
commodification ofblack culture by whites in no way challenges white
supremacy when it takes the form of making blackness the "spice that
can liven up the dull dish that is mainstream white culture.n At the end
of the talk a white woman who sounded very earnest asked me: "Don't
you think we are all raised in a culture that is racist and we are all taught
to be racist whether we want to be or not?" Note that she constructs a
social framework of sameness, a homogeneity of experience. My
response was to say that all white people (and everyone else in this
society) can choose to be actively anti-racist twenty-four hours a day if
they so desire and none of us are passive victims of socialization.
Elaborating on this point, Ishared how Iwas weary ofthe way inwhich
white people want to deflect attention away from their'acco'untability
for anti-racist change by making it seem thaC everyo'riehas- been .
socialized to be racist against their' wilL My fear is that this often'
becomes another apology for racism, one which seeks to erase a vision
ofaccountability and responsibilitywhich could truly empower. It was
apparent thatthe white womanwho asked the questionwas dissatisfied
with my response. When I suggested that she was less interested in
15
Loving Blackness as Political Resistance
what I had to say and perhaps had her own agenda, she stated that the
point she really wanted to make was that "blacks are just as racist as
whites-that we are all racists.." When I critically interrogated this
statement, explaining the difference between prejudicial feelings
(which blacks and white alike harbor towards one another as well as
other groups) and institutionalized white supremacist domination, she
promptlyleft.
A vision of cultural homogeneity that seeks to deflect attention
away from or even excuse the oppressive, dehumanizing impact of
white supremacy on the lives of black people by suggesting black
people are racist too indicates that the culture remains ignorant ofwhat
racism really is and how it works. It shows that people are in denial.
Why is it so difficult for many white folks to understand that racism is
oppressive not because white folks have- prejudicial feelings about
blacks,(they<::ould have such feelings and leave us alone}but because
itis asystemthatpromotes dominationandsubjugation?The prejudicial
feelings someblacks may express about whites are in no way linked to
a system ofdomiriationthaCaffordsus any power to coercivelycontrol
the livesarid'well-being of white folks. That needs to be understood.
Concurrently, all social manifestations of black separatism are
often seen by whites as a sign ofanti-white racism, when they usually
represent an attempt by black people to construct places of political
sanctuary where we can escape, if only for a time, white domination.
The ideas of conservative black thinkers who buy into the notion that
blacks are racist are often evoked by whites who see them as native
informants confirming this as fact. Shelby Steele is a fine example of
this tendency. I believe that his essays were the most xeroxed pieces (
of writing by white folks in the academy who wanted to share with
(
black colleagues that they have been right all along when they sug
gested that black folks were racist. Steele suggests that any time black (
people choose to congregate solely with one another we are either (
supporting racial separatism because of deeply ingrained feelings of
inferiority or a refusal to see racial differences as unimportant (I.e., to (
accept the notion that we are all the same). Commenting on the issue (
ofself-segregationin The ContentojOurCharacter, he declares: "There
is a geopolitics involved in this activity, where race is tied to territory in
a way that miniics the whites onJy/Colored only designations of the
past.» At no point in his analysis does Steele suggest that blacks might
(
want to be away from whites to have a space where we will not be the
object of racist assaults. (
(
(
12. 16 17
BLACK LOOKS
Every aware black person who has been the "only" in an all white
setting knows that in such a position we are often called upon to lend
an ear to racist narratives, to laugh at corny race jokes, to undergo
various fonns of racist harassment. And that self-segregation seems to
be particularly intense among those black college students who were
often raised in material privilege in predominatelywhite settings where
they were socialized to believe racism did not exist, that we are all "just
human beings," and then suddenly leave home and enter institutions
and experience racist attacks. To a great extent they are unprepared to
confront and challenge white racism, and often seek the comfortofjust
being with other blacks.
Steele's refusal to acknowledge this pain-this way that white
supremacy manifests itselfin daily social interaction-makes it appear
that black individuals Simply do-not like socializing with whites. TIle
reality is that many black people fear theywill-be'hurt if they let down
theirguard, that theywill be the targets ofracist assault since mostwhite
people have not unlearned racism, In classroomsettings, I hearso many
narratives of black students who accepted the notion that racism did
not exist, who felt there was nothing wrong with being with white
friends and sharing similar interests, only to find themselves in circum
stances where they had to confront the racism of these people. The last
story I heard was from a young black woman talking about always
being with white buddies in high school. One day they were all
joy-riding in someone's car, and they came across a group of young
black males crossing the street. Someone in the carsuggests they should
"just run those niggers down." She talked about her disbelief that this
comment had been made, her hurt. She said nothing but she felt that it
was the beginning of an estrangement from white peers that has
persisted. Steele's writing assumes,thatwhi~~_:p~ople'who'desire- to
socialize with·black people are not actively racist;' are"corning from a
position ofgoodwill. He does hot consider the realitythat goodwill can
co-exist with racist thinking and white supremaCist attitudes:
Throughout my tenure as a Yale professor, Iwas often confronted
withwhitestudentswhowould raise the issue ofwhy it is blackstudents
sit together in the cafeteria, usually at one table. They saw this as some
expression of racial separatism, exclusion, etc. When I asked themwhy
did they never raise the issue of why the majority of tables are white
students self-segregating, they invariably said things like, "we sit to
gether with folks with whom we share common interests and con
cerns." They were rarely at t1).e point where they'could interrogate
Loving Blackness as Political Resistance
whether or not shared~whiteness" allowed them to bond with one
another with ease.
While it has become "cool" for white folks to hang out with black
people and express pleasure in black culture, most white people do
not feel that this pleasure should belinked to unlearning racism. Indeed
there is often the desire to enhance one's status in the context of
"whiteness" even as one appropriates black culture. In his essay :~'
Place Called Home:'Identity and the Cultural Politics of Diffe~enc~":,,
Jonathan Rutherford comments: -"
Paradoxically, capital has fallei1'in'love with difference: advertis
ing thrives on selling us things that will enhance our uniqueness
and individuality. It's no longer about keeping up with the
Joneses, it's about being different from them. From World Music
to exotic holidays in Third World locations, ethnic tv dinners to
Peruvian hats, ~ltural difference sells. '
It makes perfeCt sense that black people/people ofcolor often self-seg
regate to protect themselves from this kind of objectifying interaction.
Steele never sees the desire to create a context where one can
"love blackness" as a worthy standpoint for bonding, even if such
bonding must take the fonn of self-segregation. Luckily, there are
individual non-black people who have divested oftheir racism in ways
that enable them to establish bonds of intimacy based on their ability
to love blackness without assuming the role ofcultural tourists. We
have yet to have a significant body of writing from these individuals
that gives expression to how they have shifted attitudes and daily
vigilantly resist becoming reinvested in white supremacy. Concur
rently, black folks who "love blackness," that is, who have decolonized
our minds and broken with the kind ofwhite supremacist thinking that
suggests we are inferior, inadequate, marked by victimization, etc.,
often find that we are punished by society for daring to break with the
statusquo.Onourjobs;whenwe express ourselvesfrom a decolonized,;,
standpoint;"we risk being seen as unfriendly or dangerous.- .
Those black folks who are more willing to pretend that "differ
ence" does not exist even as they self-consciously labor to be as much
like their white peers as possible, will receive greater material rewards
inwhite supremacistsociety. White supremacist logic is thus advanced.
Rather than using coercive tactics ofdomination to colonize, it seduces
black folks with the promise of mainstream success if only we are
willing to negate the value ofblackness. Contrary toJames Cone's hope
that whites would divest of racism and be born again in the spirit of
13. 18 19
BLACK LOOKS
empathy and unity with black folks, we are collectively asked to show
our solidarity with the white supremacist status quo by over-valuing
whiteness, byseeingblackness solelyas a markerofpowerlessness and
victimization. To the degree that bla~k folks embodyby ouractions and
behaviorfamiliar raciststereotypes, wewill fmd greatersupportand/or
affirmation in the culture. A prime example of this is white consumer
support of misogynist rap which reproduces the idea that black males
are violent beasts and brutes.
In Nella Larsen's Passing, Clarechooses to assumeawhiteidentity
because she only sees blackness as a sign ofvictimiZation and power
lessness. As long as she thinks this, she has a sustained bond with the
black bourgeoisie who, often self-segregate even as they maintain
contempt for blackness, especially for the black underclass. Clare's
bond with Irene, her black bourgeois friend, is broken when she seeks
to define blackness positively. In Passing it is this bourgeois class and
the worldofwhiteness Clare's husband embodies that turns against her
when she attempts to reclaim the black identity she has previously
denied. When the novel ends we do not know who has murdered her,
the black bourgeois friend or the white husband. She represents a
"threat" to the conservative hierarchical social order based on race,
class, and gender that they both seek to maintain.
Despite civil rights struggle, the 1960s'black powermovement,
and the power of slogans like "black is beautiful," masses of black
people continue to be socialiZed via mass media and non-progres
sive educational systems to internalize white supremacist thoughts
and values. Without ongoing resistance struggle and progressive
black liberation movements for self-determination, masses of black
people (and everyone else) have no alternative worldview that
affirms and celebrates blackness. Rituals of affirmation (celebrating
black history, holidays, etc.) do not intervene on white supremacist
socialiZation if they exist apart from active anti-racist struggle that
seeks to transform society.
Since so many black folks have succumbed to the post-1960s
notion that material success is more important than personal integrity,
struggles for black self-determination that emphasize decolonization,
loving blackness, have had little impact. As long as black folks are'
taught that the only way we can gain any degree ofeconofuicself..suf
ficiency or be materially privileged is by,first rejecting blackness,'our
history and culture, then there will always be a crisis in black identity.
Internalized racism will continue to erode collective struggle for self
determination. Masses of black children will continue to suffer from
Loving Blackness as Political Resistance
low self-esteem. And even though they may be motivated to strive
harder to achieve success because they want to overcome feelings of
inadequacy and lack, those successes will be undermined by the
, persistence of low self-esteem.
One of the tragic ironies of contemporary black life is that indi
viduals succeedin acquiring material privilege often bysacrifiCing their
positive connection to black culture and black experience. Paule
Marshall's novel Praises,ong for the Widow is a fictional portrayal of
such tragedy. Ayoung black couple, Avey andJay, start theirfamily life
together empowered by their celebration and afflI'CIlation of black
culture, but this connectionis eroded aSJay strives for material success.
Along the way, he adopts many mainstream white supremacist ways of
thinking about black folks, expressing disdain for the very culture that
had been a source of joy and spiritual fulfillment. Widowed, her
children grown, Avey begins a process ofcritical remembering where
she interrogates their past, asking herself:
Would it have been possible to have done both? That is, to have
wrested, as they had done over all those years, the means needed
to rescue them from Halsey Street and to see the children through,
while preserving, safeguarding, treasuring those things that had
come down to themoverthegenerations, which haddefined them
in a particular way. The most vivid, the most valuable part of
themselves!
To recoverherselfandreclaim the love ofblackness, Aveymustbe born
again. In that stateofrebirth andreawakening, she is able to understand
what they could have done, what itwould have calledfor: "Awareness.
It would have called for ,an ,awareness of the worth of what they
possessed..vigilance. The vigilance needed to safeguard it. To hold it
like a jewel high out of the envious reach of those who would either
destroy it or claim it as their own.",To'recover herself, Avey has to
relearn the.past, understand her culture and history,'affirm her artces
·~tors, add assume responsibility for helping other black folks to decol
onize their minds.
Aculture of domination demands ofall its citizens self-negation.
The more marginalized, the more intense the demand. Since black
people, especially the underclass, are bombarded bymessages that we
have no value, are worthless, it is no wonder that we fall prey to
nihilistic despairorforms ofaddiction that provide momentaryescape,
illusions of grandeur, and temporary freedom from the pain of facing
reality. In his es~ay "Healing the Heart ofJustice," written for a special
14. 20 BLACK LOOKS
issue of Creation Spirituality highlighting the work of Howard
Thurman, Victor Lewis shares his understanding of the profound
traumatic impact of internalized oppression and addiction on black
life. He concludes:
To value ourselves rightly, infmitely, released from shame and
self-rejection, implies knowing that we are claimed by the
totality of life. To share in a loving community and vision that
magnifies our strength and banishes fear and despair, here, we
find the solid ground from which justice can flow like a mighty
stream. Here, we find the fire that burns away the confusion
that oppression heaped upon us during our childhood weak
ness. Here, we can see what needs to be done and find the
strength to do it. To value ourselves rightly. To love one
another. This is to heal the heart of justice. ,'tot
We cannot value ourselves rightly without nrst breaking through the
walls ofdenial which hide the depth ofblackself-hatred, inneranguish,
and unreconciled pain.
Like Paule Marshall's character Avey, once our denial falls away
we can work to heal ourselves through awareness. I am always amazed
that the journeyhome tothatplaceofmindandheart, wherewe recover
ourselves in love, is constantlywithin reach andyetso manyblackfolks
never nnd the path. Mired in negativity and denial we are like sleep
walkers. Yet, if we dare to awaken, the path is before us. In Hope and
History} Vincent Harding asks readers to consider: "In a societyincreas
ingly populated by peoples of color, by those who have known the
disdain and domination of the Euro-American world, it would be
fascinating toponderself-love as a religious calling." Collectively, black
people and our allies in struggle are empowered when we practice
self-love as a reyolutionary intervention that undermines practices of
domination. Loving. blackness as, political; resistance, transforms our "
ways of looking and being, and thus creates the conditions necessary •
for us to move against the forces· of domination and~death 'and,'
reclaim black lile..
Chapter 2
Eating the Other
Desire and Resistance
1btststbeory'sacutedilemma: tbatdesireexpressesitselfmostfullywbere
only tbose absorbed in its de/tgbts and torments arepresent} tbat it triumpbs
most completely over otber buman preoccupattons in places sbeltered from
vieW. 1bus it tsparadoxtcally in biding tbat tbe secrets ofdesire come to Ugbt.
tbatbegemonic impositIOns andtbeir reversals, evastons. andsuf:Jverstons are
at their mostbonest·and, acttve, .and·that tbe identities and disjunctures.
betweenfeltpasston'and establtsbedculture placetbemselves on most vivtd
display:
-]oanCocks
1be OppositionalImagination
Within current debates about race and difference"wass culture is
...
the contemporary location that both publicly declares and perpetuates'
the idea that there is pleasure to be found in the acknowledgment and
~~nioyment of racial differen~, The .c"Oiiiiilodffication of~U.bemess has
been so successful because it is ~ffered as a new deligh1,!Uore intense,
!110resatis!'Y.!!!g1!t,Elnormal wa~ of doing and feeling. Within com
modity culture, ethnicity becomes spice, seasoning that can liven up
the dull dish that is mainstream white culture. Cultural taboos around
sexuality and desire are transgressed and made explicit as the media
bombards folks with a message of difference no longer based on the
white supremacist assumption that "blondes have more fun." The "real
fun" is tobe had bybringingto the surface~l those "nasty" uncOriS'dous
. - ~,------.~.,.
21
15. 22 23
BLACK LOOKS
fantasies and longings about contact with the Other embedded in the
secret (notso secret) deep structure ofwhite supremacy. In manyways
it is acontemporary revival ofinterest in the "primitive,"with a distinctly
postmodem slant. As Marianna Torgovnick argues in Gone Primitive:
Savage Intellects, Modern Lives:
What is clear now is that the West's fascination with the primitive
has to do with its owncrises in identity, with itsown need toclearly.
demarcate subject and object even while flirting with other ways
ofexperiencing the universe.
Certainlyfrom the standpointofwhite supremacistcapitalistpatriarchy, •l.~'
the hope is that deSires for the "primitive" or fantasies about the Other
can be continually exploited, and that such exploitation will occur in a..
manner that reinscribes and maintains the status quo. Whether or not
desire for contact with the Other, for connection rooted in the longing
for pleasure, can act as a critical intervention challenging and subvert
ing racist dOmination, inviting and enabling critical resistance, is an
unrealized political possibility. Exploring how desire for the Other is
expressed, manipulated, and transformed by encounters with differ
ence and the different is a critical terrain that can indicate whether these
potentially revolutionary longings are ever fulfilled.
Contemporary working-class British slang playfully converges
the discourse of deSire, sexuality, and the Other, evoking the phrase
getting "a bit of the Other" as a way to speak about sexual encounter.
Fucking is the Other. Displacing the notion of Otherness from race,
ethnicity, skin-color, the body emerges as a site ofcontestation where
sexuality is the metaphOric Other that threatens to take over, consume,
transform via the experience of pleasure. Desired and .!.iought after,
sexual pleasure alters the consentingsubject, deconstructing notions of
will, control, coercive domination. Commodity culture in the United
States exploits conventional thinking about race, gender, and sexual
desire by "working" both the idea that racial difference marks one as
Other and the assumption that sexual agency expressed within the
context of racialized sexual encounter is a conversion experience that
alters one's place and participation in contemporary cultural politics.
The seductive promise of this encounter is that it will counter the
terrorizing force of the status quo that makes identity fixed, static, a
condition of containment and death. And that it is this willingness to
transgress racial boundaries within the realm of tlle sexual that eradi
cates the fear that one must always conform to the norm to remain
"safe." Difference can seduce precisely because the mainstream impe-
Eating the Other
sition .of .sameness -is a'provocation that· terrorizes. And as Jean
Baudrillard suggests in Fatal Strategies:
Provocation--unlike seduction, which allows things to come into
play and appear in secret, dual and ambiguous-does not leave
you free to be; it calls on you to reveal yourself as you are. It is
always blackmail by identity (and thus a symbolic murder, since
you are never that, except precisely by being condemned to it).
To make one's self vulnerable to the seduction of difference, to
seek an encounterwith the Other, does notrequire that one relinquish
forever one's mainstream positionality. When.race and ethnicity be
come commodified as·resourcesfor pleasure, the culture ofspedfic.
groups, as well as the bodies ofindividuals, can be seenas constituting
an alternative playground'where members of dominating races, gen
ders, sexual practices affirm their power-over inintimate relations with
the Other. While teaching at Yale, Iwalked one brightspringday in the
downtown area ofNew Haven, which isclose to campus and invariably
brings one into contact with many of the poor black people who live
nearby, and found myselfwalking behind a group ofvery blond, very
white, jock type boys. (The downtown area was often talked about as
an arena where racist domination ofblacks bywhites was contested on
the sidewalks, as white people, usually male, often jocks, used their
bodies to force black people offthe sidewalk, to push ourbodies aside,
without everlooking at us or acknowledging our presence.) Seemingly
unaware of my presence, these young men talked about their plans to
fuck as many girls from other radaVetl:inic groups as they could "catch"
before graduation. They "ran" it down. Black girls were high on the list,
Native Americangirls hard to fmd, Asian girls (all lumped into the same
category), deemed easier to entice, were considered "prime targets."
Talking about this overheard conversation with my students, I found
that it was commonly accepted that one "shopped" for sexual partners
in the same way one ·shopped" for courses at Yale, and that race and
ethnicity was a serious category on which selections were based.
To these.young males and their buddies, fucking was a way to
confront the Other, as well as a wayto make themselves over, to leave
behind white "innocence" and enter the world of "experience," As is
often the casein thisSOCiety, theywere confidentthat non-white people
had more life .experience, were more worldly, sensual, and sexual·
because they were different: Gening a bit of the Other, in this case
engaginginsexualencounterswith non-whitefemales, was considered
a ritual of transcendence, a movement out into a world of difference
16. 24 25
BLACK LOOKS
thatwould transfonn, anacceptable rite ofpassage. The d~~
was not simply to sexually possess the Other; it was tObe changed in
some way by the encounter. "Naturally," the presence ofthe Other, the
body ofthe Other, was seen as existing to serve the ends ofwhite male
desires. Writing about the way difference is recouped in the West in
"The 'Primitive' Unconscious of Modern·Art, or White" Skin, Black)
Masks," Hal Foster reminds readers that Picasso regarded the tribal
objects he'had acquired as "witnesses" rather than as "models." Foster
critiques this positioningofthe Other, emphasizing that this recognition
was "contingent upon instrumentality": "In this way, through affinity
anduse, the primitive is sent up into the service ofthe Western tradition
(which is then seen to have partly produced iO." A similar critique can
be made of contemporary trends in inter-racial sexual desire and
contact initiated by white males. They claim the body of the c<5tbred
Otherinstrumentally, as unexploredterrain, a symbolicfrontierthatwill
be fertile ground for their reconstruction of the masculine norql, for
asserting themselves as transgressive desiring subjects. They call upon
the Other to be both witness and participant in i:hIs transformation.
For white boys to openly discuss their desite fotcolored girls (or
oys) publiclyannounces theirbreakwitha white supremacistpast~t
~would have such desire articulated only as tabod;as secret, as shame.
They see theirwillingness to openly name their desire for the Other as
affinnation of cultural plurality (its impact on sexual preference and
choice). Unlike racist white men who historically violated the bodies
of black women/women of color to assert their position as colo-
nizericonqueror, these young men see themselves as non-raasts, who
choose to transgress racial boundaries within the sexual realm not to
dominate the Other, but rather so that they can be acted upon, so that
they can be changed utterly. Not at all attuned to those aspects of'their
sexual fantasies that irrevocably link them to collective white racist
domination, they believe their desire for contact represents a progres
sive change in white attitudes towards non-whites. They do nofsee
themselves as perpetuating racism. To them the most potent indication
of that change is the frank expression oflonging, the open declaration
of desire, the need to be intimate with dark Others. The point is to be
changed by this convergence of pleasure and Otherness. One dares-
acts--on the assumption that the exploration into the world of differ
ence, into the body of the Other, will provide a greater, more intense
pleasure than any that exists in the ordinary world of one's familiar
racial group. And even though the conviction is that the familiar world
Eating the Other
will remain intact even as one ventures outside it, the hope is that they
will reenter that world no longer the same.
The current wave of ~'imperialist nostalgia" (defined by Renato
Rosaldb in Culture and Truth as "nostalgia, often found under imperi- .
alism, where people mourn the passing ofwhat they themselves have
.transfonned"·or as:~<l,process of yearning for what one has destroyed
that is a fonn of mystification") often obscures contemporary cultural
strategies deployed not to mourn but to celebrate the sense of a
continuum of "primitivism."In mass culture, imperialist nostalgia takes
the fonn ofreenacting and reritualizing in differentways the imperialist,
colonizing journey as narrative fantasy ofpower and deSire, of seduc- !
tion by the Other. -This·longing is rooted in the atavistic belief thatth~
spirit..of.·the""prinu~'· res~·tfi"e·'b60ies"-of cark others whose
cultures, traditionsj-and lifestyles may indeed be irrevocably'change
byimperialism,colonization, and racist domination. The desire to make
contact with those boqies deemed Other, with no apparent will to
dOminate, assuages the guilt ofthe past, even takes the form ofa defiant
gesture where one denies accountability and historical connection.
Most importantly, it establishes a contemporary narrative where the
suffering imposed by structures of domination on those designated
Other is deflected by an emphasis on seduction and longing where
the desire is not to make the Oilier over in one's image but to become
the Other.
. Whereas mournful imperialist nostalgia constitutes the betrayed
and abandoned world ofthe Other as an accumulation oflack and loss,
contemporarylongingfor the "primitive" is expressedby the projection
onto the Other of a sense of plenty, bounty,'a field of dreams. Com
menting on this strategyin "Readings in Cultural Resistance," Hal Foster~,
contends, '~Difference is·,thus .used productively; .indeed, in a social
ordeowhich seems to know'no outside (and which must contrive its
own transgressions to redefme its limits),difference is often fabricated
in the interests'of social control as well as of commodity innovation."
Masses of young people dissatisfied by U.S. imperialism, unemploy
ment, lack of economic opportunity, afflicted by the postrnodern mal
aise of alienation, no sense of grounding, no redemptive identity, can
be manipulated by cultural strategies that offer Otherness as appease
ment, particularly through commodification. The contemporary crises
of identity in the west, especially as experienced by white youth, are
eased when the "primitive" is recouped Via a focus on diversity and
pluralism which suggests the Other can provide life-sustaining alterna
tives. Concurrently, diverse ethnic/racial groups can also embrace this
17. 26 BLACK LOOKS
sense ofspecialness, that histories and experience once seen asworthy
only of disdain can be looked upon with awe.
Cultural appropriation ofthe Other assuages feelings of depriva
tionand lackthatassault the psyches ofradicalwhiteyouth who choose
to be disloyal to western civilization. Concurrently, marginalized
groups, deemed Other, who have been ignored,renderedinvisible, can
be seduced by the emphasis on Otherness; byits'commodification,'
because it offers the promise ofrecognition and reconciliation. When
the dominant culture demands that the Other be offered as sign that
progressive political ,change is taking place, that the American Dream
can indeed be inclusive of difference, it invites a resurgence ofessen· .... '
tialist cultural nationalism. The acknowledged,Other must assume ,
recognizable forms. Hence, it is not African American culture formed
in resistance to contemporary situations that surfaces, but nostalgk
evocation of a "glorious" past. And even though the focus is often on
the ways that this past was "superior" to the present, this cultural
narrative relies on stereotypes ofthe "primitive,» even as it eschews the
term, to evoke a world where black people were in harmony with
nature and with one another. This narrative is linked to white western
conceptions of the dark Other, not to a radical questioning of those
representations,
Should youth ofany other color not know how to move closer to
the Other, orhow to getin touchwith the"primitive," consumerculture
promises to show the way. It is within the commercial realm ofadver
tising that the drama of Otherness finds expression. Encounters with
Otherness are clearly markedas more exciting; rhciie'intense",:1.odmore
threatening. The lure is the combination of pleasure and danger. In the
cultural marketplace the Other is coded as having the capacity to be
more alive, as holding the secret that will allow those who venture and
dare to break with the cultural anhedonia (defined in Sam Keen's The
Passionate Life as "the insensitivity to pleasure, the incapacity for
experiencing happiness") and experience sensual and spiritual re
newaL Before his untimely death, Michel Foucault, the quintessential
transgressive thinker in the west, confessed that he had real difficulties
experiencing pleasure:
I think that pleasure is a very difficult behavior. It's not as simple
as that to enjoy one's self. And I must say that's my dream. Iwould
like and I hope I die of an overdose of pleasure. of any kind.
Because I think it's really difficult and I always have the feeling
that I do not feel thepleasure, the complete total pleasure and, for
me, it's related to death, Because I think that the kind of pleasure
27
Eating the Other
I would consider as the real pleasure, would be so deep, so
intense, so overwhelming that I couldn't survive it. I would die.
Though speaking from the standpoint of his individual experi
ence, Foucaultvoices a dilemma felt by many in the west. It is precisely
that longing for tbe pleasure that has led the white west to 'sustain a
romantic fantasy of the "primitive" and the concrete search for a real
primitive paradise, whether that location be a country or a body, a
dark continent or dark flesh, perceived as the perfect embodiment
of that possibility.
Within this fantasy of Otherness, the longing for pleasure is
projected as a force that can disrupt and subvert the will to dominate.
It acts to both mediate and challenge. In Lorraine Hansberry'S play Les
Blanes, it is the desire to experience closeness and community that
leads the white American journalist Charles to make contact and at
tempt to establish a friendship with Tshembe, the black revolutionary.
Charles struggles to divest himself of white supremacist privilege,
eschews the role ofcolonizer, and refuses racist exoticization ofblacks.
Yet he continues to assume that he alone can decide the nature of his
relationship to a black person. Evoking the idea ofa universal transcen
dent subject, he appeals to Tshembe by repudiating the role ofoppres
sor, declaring, "lam a man who feels like talking." When Tshembe
refuses to accept the familiar relationship offered him, refuses to satisfy
Charles' longing for camaraderie and contact, he is accused of hating
(
white men. Calling attention to situations where white people have
oppressed otherwhite people, Tshembe challenges Charles, declaring (
that ~'race is a devi.c~nomore, fl<:>,less," that "it explains nothing at
(
all.~ Pleased with this disavowal of the importance of race, Charles
agrees, stating "race hasn't a thing to do with it." Tshembe then (
deconstructs the category "race" without minimizing or ignoring the (
impact of racism, telling him:
(
I believe in' the recognition of devices as·devices-but I also (
believe in thereality ofthose devices. In one century men choose
to hide their conquests under religion, in another under race. So (
you and I may recognize the fraudulence of the device in both
cases, butthe fact remainsthata manwhohas aswordrun through
him because he will not become a Moslem or a Christian-or who
is lynched in Mississippi or Zatembe because he is black-is
(
suffering the utter reality of that device of conquest. And it is
pointless to pretend that it doesn't exts1--merely because it is a lie.;. (
(
18. 29
BLACK LOOKS
28
Again and again Tshembe must make it clear to Charles that,
subject to subject contact between white and black which signals the
absence of domination, of an oppressor/oppressed relationship, must
emerge through mutual choice and negotiation. That simply by ex
pressing their desire for "intimate" contact with black people, white
people do· not eradicate·the politics of racial domination as they'are
made manifest in perSonal interaction.
f
Mutual recognition of racism, its impact both on those who are
dominated and those who dominate, is the only standpoint that makes
possible an encounter between races that is not based on denial and
'fantasy. For it is the ever present reality of racist domination, ofwhite
supremacy, that renders problematic the desire ofwhite people to have
contact with the Other. Often it is this reality that is most masked when
representations of contact between white and non-white, whitO:and
black, appear in mass culture. One area where the politics ofdiversity
(
and its concomitant insistence on inclusive representation have had
serious impact is advertising. Now that sophisticated market surveys
reveal the extent to which poor and materially underprivileged people
of all races/ethnicities consume products, sometimes in a quantity
disproportionate to income, it has become more evident that these
markets can be appealed to with advertising. Market surveys revealed
that black people buy more Pepsi than other soft drinks and suddenly
we see more Pepsi commercials with black people in them.
, The world of fashion has also come to understand that selling
products is heightened by the exploitation of Otherness. The success
ofBenneton ads, whichwith their raciallydiverse images have become
a model for various advertiSing strategies, epitomize this trend. Many
ads that focus on Otherness make no explicit comments, or rely solely
on visual messages, but the recent fall Tweeds catalogue provides an
excellent example ofthe waycontemporaryculture exploits notions of
Otherness with bothvisualimages and text. The catalogue covershows
a map of Egypt. Inserted into the heart ofthe country, so to speak, is a
photo ofa white male (an OutofAfricatype) holding an Egyptianchild
in his arms. Behind them is not the scenery of Egypt as modem city,
but rather shadowy silhouettes resembling huts and palm trees. Inside,
the copy quotes Gustave Flaubert's comments from Flaubert in Egypt.
For seventy-five pages Egypt becomes a landscape of dreams, and its
darker-skinned people background; scenery to highlight whiteness,
and the longing ofwhites to inhabit, ifonly for a time, the world ofthe
Other. The front page copy declares:
Eating the Other
We did not want our journey to be filled with snapshots of an
antique land. Instead, we wanted to rediscover our clothing in
the context of a different culture. Was it possible, we won
,dered, to express our style in an unaccustomed way, sur
rounded by Egyptian colors, Egyptian textures, even bathed in
an ancient Egyptian light?
Is this not imperialist nostalgia at its best-potent expression of
longing for the "primitive"? One desires "a bit of the Other" to
enhance the blank landscape of whiteness. Nothing is said in the~.
text about Egyptian'pe6ple;yet'theitlmages are spread throughout
.its pages. Often their faces are blurred by the camera, a strategy
which ensures that readers will not become more enthralled by the
images of Otherness than those of whiteness. The' point of this
photographic attempt at defamiliarization"is-to distance us from
whiteness;-s61ha'fwe'will'ieturn't<:nrmore intently.
In most ofthe "snapshots," all carefully selected and posed, there
is no mutual looking. One desires contact with the Other even as one
wishes boundaries to remain intact. When bodies contact one another.
touch, it almost always a white hand doing the touching, white hands
that rest on the bodies of colored people, unless the Other is a child.
One snapshot of "intimate" contact shows two women with their arms
linked, the way close friends might link arms. One is an Egyptian
woman identified by a caption that reads "with her husband and baby,
Ahmedio A'bass, 22, leads a gypsy's life"; the second woman is a
white-skinned model. The linked hands suggest that these two women
share something, have a basis of contact and indeed they do, they
resemble one another, look more alike than different. The message
again is that "primitivism," though more apparent in the Other, also
resides in the white self. It is not the world ofEgypt, of "gypsy" life, that
is affIrmed by this snapshot, but the ability ofwhite people to roam the
world, making contact. Wearing pants while standing next to her dark
!'sister"'whowears'a traditional skirt, thewhit~ 'Woman appears to be
..." cross-dressing (an ongoing theme in Tweeds). Visually the image sug
gests that she and first world white women like her are liberated, have
greater freedom to roam than darker women who live peripatetic
lifestyles.
Significantly, the catalogue that followed this one focused on
Norway. There the people of Norway are not represented, only the
scenery. Are we to assume that white folks from this country are as at
"home" in Norway as they are here so there is no need for captions and
19. 30 31
BLACK LOOKS
explanations? In this visual text, whiteness is the unifying feature-not
culture. Of course, for Tweeds to exploit Otherness to dramatize
"whiteness" while in Egypt, it cannot include darker-skinned models
since the play oncontrasts that is meant to highlight 'whiteness" could
not happen'nor could the eXploitation that urges consumption of the
Other whet the appetite in quite the sarriewaYj just as inclusion of
darker-skinned models in the Norway issue mightsuggest tl1at the west
is not as unified by whiteness as this visual text suggests. Essentially
speaking, both catalogues evoke a sense that white people are homo ¥
geneous and share "white bread culture."
Those progressive white intellectuals who are particularly critical
of "essentialist" notions of identity when writing about mass culture,
race, and gender have not focused their critiques on white identity and
the way essentialism informs representations ofwhiteness. It is always
the non-white, or in some cases the non-heterosexual Other, who is
guilty of essentialism. Few white intellectuals call attention to the way
in which the contemporary obsession with white consumption of the
dark Other has served as a catalyst for the resurgence of essentialist
based racial and ethnic nationalism. Blacknationalism, with its empha
sis on black separatism, is resurging as a response to the assumption
thatwhite cultural imperialism andwhite yeaming to possess the Other
are invading black life, appropriating and violating black culture. As a
survival strategy, black nationalism surfaces most strongly when white
cultural appropriation ofblack culture threatens to decontextualize and
therebY,erase knowledge of the specific historical and social context of
black experienc.e from which cultural productions and distinct black,
styles em~rge. Yet mostwhite intellectuals writing critically about black
culture do not see these constructive dimensions of black nationalism
and tend to see it instead as naive essentialism, rooted in notions of
ethnic purity that resemble white racist assumptions.
In the essay "Hip, and the Long Front of Color," white critic
Andrew Ross interprets Langston Hughes' declaration ("You've taken
my blues and gone-You sing 'em on Broadway-Andyou sing 'em in
Hollywood Bowl-Andyou mixed 'em up withsymphonies-Andyou
fixed 'em-So they don't sound like me. Yep, you done taken my blues
and gone.") as a "complaint" that "celebrates.. .folk purism." Yet
Hughes' declaration can be heard as a critical comment on appropria
tion (not a complaint). Adistinction must be made between the longing.._
for on oin cultural recognition of the creative source 'of particular
African American cultura pro uctionsifult emerge from distinct black
~- ....
Eating the Other
experience, and essentialist investments in notions ofethnic purity that
undergird crude versions of black nationalism,
- Currently, the commodification of'difference promotes para-,
digmsofconsur:ptionwbereinwhatever difference the Other Inhabits
is eradicated, via exchange,-by a consumer cannibalism that not ooiy
'displaces the Other but denies the significance of that Other's history
ihfough aprocess"of decontextuaIlZation. Like the "primitivism" Hal
Foster maintains "absorbs the primitive, in part via the concept of
affinity" contemporary notions of "crossover" expand the parameters
ofcultural production to enable the voice of the non-white Other to be
heard bya largeraudience even as it denies the specificity ofthat voice,
or as it recoups it for its own use.
This scenario is played out in the film Hearl Condition when
Mooney, a white radst cop, has a heart transplant and receives a heart
from Stone, a black man he has been trying to destroy because Stone
has seduced Chris, the white call girl that Mooney loves. Transformed
by his new "black heart," Mooney learns how to be more seductive,
changes his attitudes towards race, and, in perfect Hollywood style,
wins the girl in the end. Unabashedly dramatizing a process of "eating
the Other" On ancient religiOUS practices among so called "primitive"
people, the heart ofa person may be ripped out and eaten so that one
can embody that person's spirit or special characteristics), a film like
Hearl Condition'addresses the fantasies ofawhite audience. At the end
of the film, Mooney, reunited with Chris through marriage and sur
rounded by Stone's caring black kin, has become the "father" of Chris
and Stone's bi-racial baby who is dark-skinned, the color of his father.
Stone, whose ghost has hauntedMooney, is suddenly "hisrory"-gone.
Interestingly, this mainstream film suggests that patriarchal struggle
over "ownership" (I.e., sexual possession of white women's bodies) is
the linchpin of racism. Once Mooney can accept and bond with Stone
on the phallocentric basis of their mutual possession and "desire" for
Chris, their homosocial bonding makes brotherhood possible and
eradicates thp racism that has kept them apart. Significantly, patriarchal
bonding mediates and becomes the basis for the eradication of racism.
In part, this film offers a version ofracial pluralism that challenges
radsm by suggesting that the white male's life will be richer, more
pleasurable, if he accepts diversity. Yet it also offers a model ofchange
that stillleaves a white supremacist capitalist patriarchy intact, though
no longer based on coercive domination of black people. It insists that
white male desiremust..be sustained by the 'Habor" (in this case the
heart) of a dark Other; The fantasy, of course, is that this labor will no
20. 32 33
BIACKLOOKS
longer be exacted via domination, but will b.egiy.en~il~gly. Not
surprisingly, most black folks talked about this filin as "racist." The
young desirable handsome intelligent black male Cwhp we are told via
his own self-portrait is "hung like a shetland pony") must die so that
the aging white male can both restore his potency (he awakens from
the transplant to find a replica of a huge black peflis standing between
his legs) and be more sensitive and lOVing. Torgovnick reminds readers
in GonePrimitivethat a central element in the western fascination with
primitivism is its focus on "overcoming alienation from the body,
restoring the body, and hence the self, to a relation of full and easy
harmony with nature or the cosmos.It It is this conceptualization of the
"primitive" and the black male as quintessential representative that is
dramatized in Heart Condition. One weakness in Torgovnick's work is
her refusal to recognize how deeply the idea of the "primitif'e" is
entrenched in the psyches of everyday people, shaping contemporary
racist stereotypes, perpetuating racism. When she suggests, "our own
culture by and large rejects the association of blackness with rampant
sexuality and irrationality, with decadence and corruption, with disease
and death," one can onlywonderwhat culture she is claiming as herown.
,Films.like Hearl Condition make black culture and black life
backdrop,sceneryfor narratives that essentially focus onwhite people.
Nationalist black vqices critique this cultural crossover, its decentering
of black experience as it relates to black people, and its insistence that
it is acceptable for whites to explore blackness as long as theirultimate
agenda is appropriation. Politically "on the case" when they critique
white cultural appropriation of black experience that reinscribes it
within a "cool" narrative of white supremacy, these voices can not be
diSmissed as naive. They are misguided when they suggest that white
cultural imperialism is best critiqued and resisted by black separati'sm,
or when they evoke outmoded notions of ethnic purity that deny the
way in which black people exist in the west, are western, and are at
times positively influenced by aspects ofwhite culture.
Steve Perry's 'essay"The Politics of Crossover" deconstructs no
tions of racial purity by outlining the diverse inter-cultural exchanges
between black and white musicians, yet he seems unable to ac
knowledge that this reality does not alter the fact that white'cultural
imperialist appropriition-of black culture'mairitainswhite supremacy
and is a constant threat to black liberation. Even thoughPerrycanadmit
that successful black crossover artists, such as Prince, carry the "cross
over impulse" to the pointwhere it "begins to be a denial ofblackness,"
he is unable to see this as threatening to black people who are daily
Eating the Other
resisting racism, advocating ongoing decolonization, and in need ofan
effective black liberation struggle.
.Underlying Perry's condescension, and at times contemptuous
attitude towards all expressions ofblack nationalism, is a traditional
leftist·,insistence on' the" primacy of class· over race. This standpoint
inhibits his capacity to understand the specific political needs of black
people thatare addressed, howeverinadequately, byessentialist-based
black separatism. ·As Howard Winant clarifies in "Postmodern Racial·
Polit:ics_in..the~United-StateS: Difference"arid Ineqtiality,tt"onemust
.understand race to understand class because "in the postmodern polit
- ieal frameworkof the contemporary United States,hegemony is detec
mined bytheartlculation of race and class."And most importantly it is
the ~ability_oLthe..right.to represent,classissues.in racial terms", that is
:centraLto the current pattern ofconservative hegemony.... Certainlyan
essentialist-based black nationalism imbued with and perpetuating
many racial stereotypes is an inadequate and ineffective response to
f: -the· urgent-demand-that'there-be"renewed-and viable revolutionary
.black liberation struggle thatwould take radical politicization of black
,people, strategies ofdecolonization, critiques ofcapitalism, and ongo
ingresistanceto racist-domination as its central goals.
Resurgence ofblack nationalism as an expression ofblack people's
desire toguard againstwhite cultural appropriation indicates the extent to
whichthe commodificationofblacknessCincludingthe nationalistagenda)
has beenreinscribed and marketedwith an atavisticnarrative, a fantasy of
Othemess that reduces protest to spectacle and stimulates even greater
longing for the "primitive." Given this cultural context, black nationalism
is more a gesture of powerlessness than a sign of critical resistance. Who
can take seriously PUblic Enemy's insistence that the dominated and their
allies "fight the power" when that declaration is in no way linked to a
collective organized struggle. When young black people mouth 1960s'
black nationalist rhetoric, don Kente cloth, gold medallions, dread their
hair, and diss the white folks they hang out with, they expose the way
meaningless commodification strips these signs of political integrity and
meaning, denying the possibility that they can serve as a catalyst for
concrete political action. As signs, their power to ignite critical consdoU5-:
ness is diffused when they are commodified. Communities of resistance
are, replaced by communities of consumption. As,Stuartand Elizabeth
Ewen emphasize in-q!!5PJ!P4..;tJl~~!!Jr"
.~
••' [He'ipo~~c:s 'o!.co~ptiOIl.:must;be understood as something
'more tKa:n what to bUY.,()r even what to ooycott. Consumption is
a social relationship, the dOminant relationship in our society- '
21. 34 BLACK LOOKS
(I"nethat makes it llarder and harder for people to hold together,
to create community. At a time when for many ofus the possibility
,ofmeaningful change seems to elude our grasp, it is a question of.
.,immense social and political proportions. Toc;:stablish popular
"initiative, consumerism must be transcended--':'a'difficult but cen
tral task facing all people who still seek a better way of life.
Work by black artists that is overtly political and radical is rarely
linked to an oppositional political culture. When commodifiedit is easy
for consumers to ignore political messages. And even though a product
like rap articulates narratives of coming to critical political conscious
ness, it also exploits stereotypes and essentialist notions of blackness
Oike black people have natural rhythm and are more sexual). The
television show In Living Coloris introduced by lyrics that telllistener~
"dowhat you wanna do." Positively, this showadvocates transgression,
yetit negatively promotes racist stereotypes, sexism, and homophobia.
Black youth culture comes to stand for the outer limits of"outness." The
commercial nexus exploits the culture's desire (expressed by whites
and blacks) to inscribe blackness as "primitive" sign, as wildness, and
with it the suggestion that black people have secret access to intense
pleasure, particularly pleasures of the body. It is the young black male
body that is seen as epitomizing this promise ofwildness, of unlimited
physical prowess and unbridled eroticism. It was this black body that
was most "desired" for its labor in slavery, and it is this body that is most
represented in contemporary popular culture as the body to· be
watched, imitated, deSired, possessed. Rather than a sign of pleasure
in daily life outside the realm of consumption, the young black male
body is represented most graphically as the body in pain.
Regarded fetishistic1y in the psycho-sexual racial imagination of
youth culture, the real bodies of young black men are daily Viciously
assaulted bywhite racist violence, blackon blackviolence, theviolence
of overwork, and the violence of addiction and disease. In her intro
duction to The Bodyin Pain, Elaine Scarrystates that "there is ordinarily.
no language for pain," that "physical pain is difficulttb express; and
that this inexpressibility has'political consequences... This is certainly
true of black male pain. Black males are unable to fully articulate and
acknowledge the painintheirlives. Theydo not havea publicdiscourse
or audience within racist society that enables them to give their pain a
bearing. Sadly, black men often evoke racist rhetOric that identifies the
black male as animal, speaking ofthemselves as "endangered species,"
as "primitive,.. in their bid to gain recognition oftheir suffering.
Eating the Other 35
When young black men acquire a powerful public voice and
presence via cultural production, as has happened with the explosion
of rap music, it does not mean that they have a vehicle that will enable
them to articulate that pain. Providing narratives that are mainly about
power and pleasure, that advocate resistance to racism yet support
phallocentrism, rap denies this pain. True, itwas conditions ofsuffering
and survival, of poverty, deprivation, and lack that characterized the
marginallocatioJ:1s from which breakdancing and rap emerged. De
scribed as "rituals" by participants in the poor urban non-white com
munities where they first took place, these practices offered individuals
a means to gainpubUcrecognitionand voice. Muchofthe psychic pain
that black people experience daily in a white supremadst context is
caused by dehumanizing oppressive forces, forces that renderus invis
ible and deny us recognition. Michael H. (commentingonstyle in Stuart
Ewen's book All Consuming Images) also talks about this desire for
attention, stating that breakdandng and rap are a way to say "listen to
mystory, about myself, life, and romance." Rap music provides a public
voice for young black men who are usually silenced and overlooked.
It emerged in the streets--outside the confines ofa domesticity shaped
and informed by poverty, outside enclosed spaces where young males
body had to be contained and controlled.
In its earliest stages, rap was "a male thing." Young black and
brown males could not breakdance and rap in cramped living spaces.
. Male creativity, expressed in rap and dancing, required Wide-open
spaces, symbolic frontiers where the body could do its thing, expand,
grow, and move, surrounded by a watching crowd. Domestic space,
equated with repreSSion and containment, as well as with the
"feminine" was reSisted and rejected so that an assertive patriarchal
paradigm ofcompetitive masculinity and its concomitant emphasis on
physical prowess could emerge. As a result, much rap music is riddled
with sexismandmisogyny. The public storyofblackmalelives narrated
by rap music speaks directly to and against white racist domination, but
only indirectly hints at the enormity of black male pain. Constructing
the black male body as site of pleasure and power, rap and the dances
associated with it suggest Vibrancy, intensity, and an unsurpassed joy
in living. It may very well be that living on the edge, so close to the
possibility of being "exterminated" (which is how many young black
males feel) heightensone'sabilityto risk and make one's pleasure more
intense. It is this charge, generated by the tension between pleasure
and danger, death and desire, that Foucault evokes when he speaks of
that complete totalpleasurethat is related to death. Though Foucault is
(
(
(
(
(
(
(
(
(
(
22. 36 37
BLACK LOOKS
speaking as an individual, his words resonate in a culture affected by
anhedonia-the inability to feel pleasure. In the United States, where
oursenses are daily assaulted and bombarded to such an extent that an
emotional numbness sets in, it may take being "on the edge" for
individuals to feel intensely. Hence the overall tendency in the culture
is to see young black men as both dangerous and desirable.
Certainly the relationship between the experience of Otherness,
of pleasure and death, is explored in the film The Cook, the Thief, His
Wife andHerLover, which critiques white male imperialist domination
even though this dimension of the movie was rarely mentioned when
itwas discussed in this country. Reviewers ofthe fUm did not talk about
the representation of black characters, one would have assumed from
such writing that the cast was all white and British. Yet black males are
a part of the community of subordinates who are dominated b~ne
controlling white man. After he has killed her lover, his blonde white
wife speaks to the dark-skinned cook, who clearly represents non
white immigrants, about the links between death and pleasure. It is he
who explains to her the way blackness is viewed in the white imagina
tion. The cook tells her that black foods are desired because they
remind those who eat them of death, and that this is why they cost so
much. When they are eaten (in the film, always and only by white
people), the cook as native informant tells us it is a way to flirt with
death, to flaunt one's power. He says that to eat black food is a way to
say "death, I am eating you" and thereby conqueringfear and acknowl
edging power. White racism, imperialism, and sexist domination pre
vail by courageous consumption. It is by eating the Other (in this case,
death) that one asserts power and privilege.
A similar confrontation may be taking place within popular cul
ture in this societY as young white people seek contact with dark
Others. They may long to conquer their fear ofdarkness and death. On
the reactionary right, white youth may be simply seeking to affirm
"white power" when they flirt with having contact with the Other. Yet
there are many white youths who desire to move beyond whiteness.
Critical ofwhite imperialism and "into" difference, they desire cultural
spaces where.boundaries can be transgressed, where new and alterna
tive relations can be formed. These desires are dramatized by two
contemporary films, John Waters' Hairsprayand the more recent fllm
byJimJarmusch, Mystery Train. In Hairspray, the "cool" white people,
working-class Traci and her middle-class boyfriend, transgress class
and race boundaries to daqce with black folks. She says to him as they
stand in a rat-infested allet with winos walking about, "I wish I was
Eating the Other
dark-skinned." And he replies, "Traci, oursouls are blackeven though our
skin is white." Blackness-the culture, the music, the people-is once
again associated with pleasure as well as death and decay. Yet their
recognition ofthe particularpleasures and sorrows blackfolks experience
does not lead to cultural appropriation but to an appreciation that extends
into the realm ofthe political-Traci dares to support racial integration. In
this film, the longing and desire whites express for contact with black
culture is coupled with the recognition of the culture's value. One does
not transgress boundaries to stay the same, to reassert white domination.
HairspraJ! is nearly unique in its attempt to construct a fictive universe
where white working class "undesirables" are in solidarity with black
people. When Tl;'aci says she wants to. be black, blackness becomes a
metaphorforfreedom, anendtoboundaries. Blacknessisvitalnotbecause
it represents the "primitive" butbecause it invites engagementin a revolu
tionaryethos that dares to challenge and disruptthe statusquo.Likewhite
rappers MC Search andPrimeMinisterPete Nicewho state that they "want
to bring forth some sort ofpositive message to black people, that there are
white people out there who understand what this is all about, who
understandwe have to get past all the hatred,"Tracishifts her positionality
to stand in solidarity with black people. She is concerned about her
freedom and sees her liberation linked to black liberation and an effort to
end racist domination.
Expressing a similar solidarity with the agenda of "liberation,"
whichincludesfreedom to transgress, Sandra Bernhard, in hernew film
Without You I'm Nothing, also associates blackness with this struggle.
In the March issue of Interviewshe says that the movie has "this whole
black theme, which is like a personal metaphor for being on the
outside." This statement shows that Bernhard's sense of blackness is
bothproblematic and complex; The film opens withherpretendingshe
is black. Dressed in African clothing, she renders problematic the
question ofrace and identity, for this representation suggests thatradal
identity can be. socially constructed even as it implies that cultural
appropriation falls short because it is always imitation, fake. Con
versely, she contrasts her attempt to be a blackwomanin drag with the
black female's attempt to imitate a white female look. Bernhard's fllm
suggests thatalternativewhite culture derives its standpoint, its impetus
from black culture. Identifying herself with marginalized Others,
Bernhard's Jewish heritage as well as her sexually ambiguous erotic
practicesareexperiences thatalreadyplace heroutside the mainstream.
Yet the fllm does not clarify the nature of her identification with black
culture. Throughout the fllm, she places herself in a relationship of
23. 38 BLACK LOOKS
comparison and competition with black women, seemingly exposing
white female envy of black women and their desire to "be" imitation
black women; yetshe also pokesfun at black females. The unidentified
black woman who appears in the film, like a phantom, looking at
herself in the mirror has no name and no voice. Yet her image is always
contrasted with that of Bernhard. Is she the fantasy Other Bernhard
desires to become? Is she the fantasy Other Bernhard desires? The last
scene of the mm seems to confIrm that black womanhood is the
yardstick Bernhard uses to measure herself. Though she playfully
suggests in the film that the work of black women singers like Nina
Simone and Diana Ross is derivative, "stolen" from her work, this
inversion of reality irOnically calls attention to the way white women
have "borrowed" from black women without acknowledging the debt .
they owe. In many ways, the film critiqueswhite cultural appropriation'
of "blackness" that leaves no trace. Indeed, Bernhard identifles thatshe
had her artistic beginnings working in black clubs, among black peo
ple. Though acknowledging where she is corning from, the film shows
Bernhard clearly defIning an artistic performance space that only she
as a white woman can inhabit. Black women have no public, paying
audience for ourfunny imitations ofwhite girls. Indeed, it is difficult to
imagine any setting other than an all black space where black women
could use comedy to critique and ridicule white womanhood in the
way Bernhard mocks black womanhood.
Closing the scene shroudedina cloak that resembles anAmerican
flag, Bernhard unveils her nearly nude body. The mm ends with the
figure of the black woman, who has heretofore only been in the
background, foregrounded as the only remaining audience watching
this seductive performance. As though she isseeking acknowledgment
of her identity, her power, Bernhard stares at the black woman, who
returns her look with a contemptuous gaze. As ifthis look ofdisinterest
and dismissal is not enough to convey her indifference, she removes a
tube ofred lipstick from her purse and writes on the table "fuck Sandra
Bernhard." Her message seems to be: "you may need black culture
since without us you are nothing, but black women have no need of
you." In the fIlm, all the white women strip, flaunt their sexuality, and
appear to be directing their attention to a black male gaze. It is this
standpOint that the film suggests may lead them to ignore black women
and only notice what black women think of them when we are "right
up in their face." .
Bernhard's Hlm walks a critical tightrope. On one hand it mocks
white appropriationofblackculture, white desire for black(as in the scene
Eating the Other 39
where Bernhardwith a blondewhite girl persona is seen being "boned"
by a black man whom we later find is mainly concerned about his
hair-i.e., his own image) even as the ftlm works as spectacle hirgely
. because of the cleverways Bernhard "uses" black culture and standard
racial stereotypes. Since so many ofthe representations ofblackness in
the mm are stereotypes it does not really go against the Hollywood
cinematicgrain. And like the Tweedscatalogue onEgypt, ultimatelyblack
people are reduced, as Bernhard declares in Interview, to "a personal
metaphor." Blackness is the backdrop of Otherness she uses to insist on
and clarifyherstatus as Other, as cool, hip. and transgressive. Even though
shelets audiences know that asanentertainment"rookie"she had herstart
working incloseassociationwithblack people, the pointistonamewhere
she begins to highlight how far she has come. When Bernhard "arrives,"
able to exploit Otherness in a big time way, she arrives alone, not in the
company of black associates. They are scenery, backdrop, background.
Yetthe endoftheftlmproblematizesthisleave-taking. Is Bernhardleaving
blackfolks orhasshe been rejected and dismissed?Maybe irs mutual. Like
her entertainment cohort Madonna, Bernhard leaves her encounters with
the Other richerthan she was at the onset. We have no idea howthe Other
leaves her.
When I began thinking and doing research for this piece, Italked to
folks fromvarious locations aboutwhether theythoughtthe fotus onrace,
Otherness, and difference in mass culture was challenging racism. There
was overallagreement that the message that acknowledgment and explo
ration of racial difference can be pleasurable represents a breakthrough,
a challenge to white supremacy, to various systems of domination. The (
over-riding fear is that cultural, ethnic, and racial differences will be
continually commodified and offered up as. new dishes to enhance the
white palate-thatthe Otherwillbe eaten, consumed, and forgotten. After
weeks ofdebatingwith one anotheraboutthedistinctionbetweencultural
appropriation and cultural appreciation, students in my introductory
course on black literature were convinced that something radical was
happening, that these issues were "coming out in the open." Within a
context where desire for contact with those who are different or deemed
Other is not considered bad., politically incorrect, or wrong-minded, we
can begin to conceptualize and identify ways that desire informs our
political choices and affiliations..Jkknowl~g ways the ~d~f
.e!easu% and that jnchl'!e erotic longings, informs our politics, opr
~derstan~of difference, we may know better h~disruRts,
~bverts,andmakes resistance possibl~ ~e cannot, however, ac
~pt these new images uncritically..
24. 't!
~
(
(
(
Chapter 3
Revolutionary Black Women
Making Ourselves Subject
Sittingin a circle with several black women and one black man,
children running in and out, on a hot Saturday evening at the office of
the Coundl on Battered Women, after working all day, my spirits are
renewed sharing with this group aspects of my deyelopment as a
feminist thinker and writer. I listen intently as a sister comrade talks
about her responses to my work. Initially she was disturbed by it. "I
didn't want to hear it," she says. "I resented it." The talk in the group is
about black women and violence, not just the violence inflicted by
black men, but the violence black women do to children, and the
violence we do to one another. Particularly challenged by the essay in
Talking Back, "Violence inIntimate Relationships: AFeminist Perspec
tive," because of its focus on a continuum ofdominating violence that
begins not with male violence against women but with the violence
parents do to children, individual black women in the group felt they
had to interrogate their parental practice. •
There is little feminist workfocusing onviolence against children
from a black perspective. Sharingourstories, we talkedabout the ways
styles of parenting in diverse black communities support and petpetu
ate the use of violence as a means of domestic sodal control. We
connectedcommon acceptance ofviolence against childrenwith com
munity acceptance of male violence against women. Indeed, I sug
gested many of us were raised in families where we completely
acceptedthe notion thatviolencewas an appropriate response to crisis.
41
25. 42 BLACK LOOKS
Jn such settings it was not rare for black women to be verbally abusive
and physically violent with one another. Our most vivid memories (in
the group) of black women fighting one another took place in public
settings where folks struggled over men or over gossip. There was no
one in the group who had not witnessed an incident of black women
doing violence to one another.
I shared with the group the declaration from Nikki Giovaruu's
"Woman Poem": "I ain't shit. You must be lower than that to care." This
quote speaks directly to the rage and hostility oppressed/exploited
people can turn inward on themselves and outward towards thosewho
care about them. This has often been the case in black female encoun
ters with one another. A vast majority of black women in this society
receive sustained care only from other black women. That care does
not always mediate or alter rage, or the desire to inflict pain; it may"
provoke it. Hostile responses to care echo the truth of Giovanni's
words. When I first puzzled over them, I could hear voices in the
background questioning, "How can you be worth anything ifyou care
about me, who is worth nothing?" Among black women, such deeply
internalized pain and self-rejection informs the aggression inflicted on
the mirror image--other black women. It is this reality Audre Lorde
courageously describes in her essay "Eye to Eye: BlackWomen, Hatred,
and Anger." Critically interrogating, Lorde asks:
.,.why does that anger unleash itselfmosttellingly against another
Black woman at the least excuse? Why do I judge her in a more
critical light than any other. becoming enraged when she does not
measure up? And if behind the object of my attack should lie the
face ofmyownself, unaccepted, then whatcould possibly quench
a fire fueled by such reciprocating passions?
1 was reminded of Lorde's essay while seated among black
women, listening to them talk about the intensity oftheir initial "anger"
at my work. Retrospectively. that anger was vividly evoked so that 1
would know that individual black women present had grappled with
it, moved beyond it. and come to a place of political awareness that
allowed us to openly acknowledge it as part of their process ofcoming
to consciousness and go on to critically affirm one another. They
wanted me to understand the process oftransformation, the movement
of their passions from rage to care and recognition. It is this empower
ing process that enables us to meet face to face, to greet one another
l
with solidarity, sisterhood, and love. In this space we talk about our
different experiences of black womanhood, informed by class, geo
43
Revolutionary BlackWomen
graphical location, religious backgrounds, etc. We do not assume that
all black women are violent or have internalized rage and hostility.
In contrast, Lorde writes in "Eye to Eye":
We do not love ourselves, therefore we cannot love each other.
Because we see in each other's face our own face, the face we
never stopped wanting. Because we survived and survival breeds
desire for more self. Aface we never stopped wanting at the same
time as we try to obliterate it. Why don't we meet each other's
eyes? Do we ~pect betrayal in each other's gaze, or recognition.
Lorde's essay chronicles an understanding of ways "wounded" black
women, who are not in recovery, interact with one another, helping us
to see the way in which sexism and racism as systems of domination
can shape and determine how we regard one another. Deeply moved
by her portrait of the way internalized racism and sexism informs the
formation of black female social identity, the way it can and often does
affect us, I was Simultaneously disturbed by the presum,ption, ex
pressed by hercontinual use ofa collective "we," that she was speaking
to an experience all black women share. The experience her essay
suggests black women share is one of passively receiving and absorb
ing messages of self-hate, then directin'g rage and hostility most in
tensely at one another. While I wholeheartedly agree with Lorde that
many black women feel and act as she describes, I am interested in the
(
reality ofthose blackwomen, howeverfew, who evenifthey have been
the targets of black female rage do not direct hostility or rage toward (
other black women.
Throughout "Eyeto Eye," Lorde constructs a monolithic paradigm
ofblack female experience that does not engage our differences. Even
as her essay urges black women to openly examine the harshness and
cruelty that may be present in black female interaction so that we can
regard one another differently, an expression of that regard would be
recognition. without hatred or envy, that not all black women share the
experience she describes. To some extent Lorde's essay acts to shut
down, close off, erase, and deny those black female experiences that
do not fit the norm she constructs from the location of her experience.
. Never in Lorde'sessay does she address the issue of whether or not
black women from different cultural backgrounds (Caribbean, Latina,
etc.) const11lct diverse identities, Do we all feel the same about black
womanhood?What about regional differences? What about those black
women who have had the good fortune to be raised in a politicized
context where their identities were constructed by resistance and not
•
26. l 45
44 BLACK LOOKS
passive acceptance? By evoking this negative experience of black
womanhood as '''commonly" shared, Lorde presents it in a way that
suggests it represents "authentic" blackfemale reality. To not share the
critique she posits is to be made an "outsider" yet again. In Donna
Haraway's essay"AMailifestofor cyborgs;!'shewarnsfeminist thinkers
againstassuming pOSitions that "appear to be the telos'of the whole,"
so'thatwe'do'not."produce.epistemologies to police deviation from
official women's ,experienc~." Though Haraway is speaking about
mainstreamfeministpractice, herwaming is appliqple to marginalized
groups who are in the process of making and remaking critical texts
that name our politics and experience.
Years ago I attendeda small gathering ofblackwomenwho were
meeting to plan a national conference on black feminism. As we sat in
a circletalkingaboutourexperiences, those individualswhowere r:dt)st
listened to all told stories ofhow brutally they hadbeen treatedby "the"
black community, Speaking against the construction of a monolithic
experience, I talkedatiout'the way my exPerience ofblack community
,differed; sharing that I had been raised in a segregated rural black
community that was very supportive. Our segregated church and
schools were places where we were affirmed. I was continually told
that I was "special" in those settings, that I would be "somebody"
someday and do important work to "uplift" the race. I felt loved and
cared about in the segregated black community of my growing up. It
gave me the grounding in a positive experience of "blackness" that
sustained me when I left that community to enter racially integrated
settings, where racism informed mostsocialinteractions. Before I could
finish speaking, Iwas interrupted by one ofthe "famous" blackwomen
present, who chastised me for trying to erase another black woman's
pain by bringing up a different experience. Her voice was hostile and
angry. She began by saying she was "sick ofpeople like me." I felt both
silenced and misunderstood. It seemed that the cathartic expression of
collective painwipedoutany chancethat my insistenceonthe diversity
of black experience would be heard.
My storywas reducedto a competing narrative, onethatwas seen
as trying to divert attention from the "true" telling of black female
experience. In this gathering, black female identity was made synony
mous again and again with "victimization." The blackfemale voice that
was deemed "authentic" was the voice in pain; only the sound of
hurting could be heard. No narrative of resistance was 'voiced and
respected in this setting. Icame awaywonderingwhy itwas these black
women could only feel bonded to each other ifour narratives echoed,
Revolutionary BlackWomen
only if we were telling the same story of shared pain and victimiza
tion. Why was it impossible to speak an identity emerging from a
different location?
A particular brand of black feminist "essentialism" had been
constructed in that place. It would not allow for difference. Any indi
vidual present who was seen as having inappropriate thoughts or
lingering traces of politically incorrect ideas was the target for unmedi
ated hostility. Not surprisingly, those who had the most to say about
victimization were also the ones who judged others harshly, who
silenced others. Individual black women who were not a part of that
inner circle learned that ifthey did not know the "right" thing to say, it
was best to besilent. Tospeakagainst the grainwas to risk punishment
One's speech might be interrupted or one, might be subjected to
humiliating verbal abuse.
At the close ofthis gathering, many black women gave testimony
about how this had been a wonderful experience of sisterhood and
black woman-bonding. There was no space for those individuals
whose spirits had been assaulted and attacked to name their experi
ence. IrOnically, they were leaving this gathering with a sense of
estrangement, carryingwith them remembered pain. Some ofthem felt
that this was the first time in their lives that they had been so cruelly
treated by other black women. The oldest black woman present, an
academic intellectual who had often been the target for verbal assault,
who oftenwept in her room at night, vowed neveragain to attend such
a gathering. The memory of her pain has lingered in my mind. I have
notforgotten this collectiveblackfemale "rage" in theface ofdifference,
the anger directed at individual black women who dared to speak as
though we were more than our pain, more than the collective pain
black females have histOrically experienced.
Sitting at the offices of the Council on Battered Women was
different. After many years of feminist movement, it seems to me that
blackwomen can now come togetherin ways that allow for difference.
At the Council, women could speak openly and honestly about their
experience, describe their negative and positive responses to mywork
withoutfear ofrebuke. Theycouldname theirrage, annoyance, frustra
tion, and simultaneously critique it. In a similar setting where black
women had talked openly about the way my work "enraged" them, I
had asked a sister ifshe would talk about the roots ofher hostility. She
responded by telling me that I was "daring to be different, to have a
different response to the shit black women were faced with everyday."
She said, "It's like you were saying, this is what the real deal is and this
27. 46 47
BLACK LOOKS
what we can do about it. When most of us have just been going along
with the program and telling ourselves that's all we could do. You were
saying that it don't have to be that way." The rage she articulated was
in response to the demand that blackwomen acknowledge the impact
of sexism on our lives and engage in feminist movement-That was a
demand for transformation. At the offices of the Council, I was among
black comrades who were engaged in a process of transformation.
Collectively, we were working to problematize our notions of black
female subjectivity. None ofus assumed a fixed essentialidentity. Itwas
so evident that we did not all share a common understanding ofbeing
black and female, even though some of our experiences were similar.
We did share the understanding that it is difficult for black women to
construct radical subjectivity within white supremacist capitalist patri
archy, that ourstruggle to be "subject," though similar, also differs from "
that ofblack men, and that the politics ofgender create that difference.
Much creative writing by contemporary black women authors
highlights gender politics, specifically black male sexism, poverty,
black female labor, and the struggle for creativity. Celebrating the
"power" ofblackwomen'swritingin heressay "WomenWarriors: Black
Women Writers Load the Canon" in the Voice Literary Supplement,
dated May 1990, Michelle Cliff asserts:
There is continuity in the written work ofmany African-American
women, whether writer is their primary identity or not. You can
draw a line from the slave narrative of Linda Brent to Elizabeth
Keckley's life to 'IbeirEyes We1'll Watching God to Coming ofAge
in Mississippi to Sula to 'Ibe Saltealers to Pratsesong for the
Widow. All ofthese defme a response to power. All structure that
response as a quest, a: journey to complete, to realize the self; all
involve the attempt to break out ofexpectations imposed on black
and female identity. All work against the Odds to claim the L
Passionate declarations like this one, though seductive, lump all black
female writing together in a manner that suggests there is indeed a
totaliZing telosihat determines black female subjectivity. This narrative
constructs a homogenous black female subject whose subjectivity is
most radicallydefined by those experiences she shareswithotherblack
women. In this declaration, as in the entire essay, Cliff glorifies black
women writers even though she warns against the kind ofglorification
(particularly that accorded a writer that is eXpressed by sustained
academic literary critiqueoftheirwork) that has the potential to repress
and contain.
Revolutionary Black Women
Cliffs piece also contains. Defining black women's collective
work as a critical project that problematizes the quest for "identity," she
subsumes that quest solely by focusing on rites of passages wherein
black women journey to fmd themselves. She does not talk about
whether that journeying is fruitful. By focusing attention primarily on
the journey, she offers paradigms for reading and understanding black
women writers that invite readers (critics included) to stop there, to
romanticize the journey without questioning the location of that
journey's end. Sadly, in much of the fiction by contemporary black
womenwriters, the struggle by black female characters for subjectivity,
though forged inradicalresistance to the statusquo(opposition toracist
oppression, less frequently to class and gender) usually takes the form
of black women breaking free from boundaries imposed by others,
only to practice their newfound "freedom" bysettinglimits and bound
aries for themselves. Hence though black women may make them
selves "subject" they do not become radical subjects. Often they simply
conform to existing norms, even ones they once resisted.
Despite all the "radical" shifts in thought, location, class pOSition,
, etc., that Celie undergoes inAliceWaIker's novel TbeColorPurple, from
her movement from object to subject to her success as a capitalist
entrepreneur, Celie is reinscribed within the context of family and
domestic relations by the novel's end. The primary change is that those
relations are no longer abusive. Celie has not become a "feminist," a
civil rights activist, or a political being in any way. Breaking free from
the patriarchal prison that is her "home" when the novel begins, she
creates her own household, yet radical politics of collective struggle
against racism or sexism do not inform her struggle for self-actualization.
Earlier writing by black women, Linda Brent's slave narrative for
example, records resistance struggles where. black women confront
and overcome incredible barriers in the quest to be self-defming. Often
after those barriers have been passed, the heroines settle down into
conventional gender roles.,No tale ofwoman's struggle to be self-defi
ning is as powerful as the Brent narrative. She is ever conscious of the
way in which being female makes slavery "far more grievous." Her
narrative creates powerful groundwork for the construction of radical
black female subjectivity. She engages in a process of critical thinking
that enables her to rebel against the notion that her body can be sold
and insists on placing the sanctity of black ontological being outside
modes of exchange. Yet this radical, Visionary "take" on subjectivity
does not inform who she becomes once she makes her way to
freedom. After breaking the I?onds of slavery, Harriet Jacobs takes
28. 48 49
BLACK LOOKS
on the pseudonym Linda Brentwhenshe writes about the pastand falls
into the clutches of conventional notions of womanhood. Does the
radical invented self "Linda Brent" have no place in the life ofHarriet
Jacobs? Freed, descriptions of her life indicate no use of the incredible
oppositionaf imagination that has been a major resource enabling her
to transgress boundaries, to take risks, anddare to survive. DoesJacobs'
suppression of the radical self chart the journey that black women will
follow, both in real life and in their fictions?
More than any other novel by a contemporary black woman
writer, Toni Morrison's Sula chronicles the attempt by a black female
to constitute radical black female subjectivity. Sula challenges every
restriction imposed upon her, transgressing all boundaries. Defying
conventional notions ofpassive female sexuality, she asserts herself as
desiring subject. Rebelling against enforced'domesticity, she choos's
to roam the world, to remain childless and unmarried. Refusing stan
dard sexist notions of the exchange of female bodies, she engages in
the exchange of male bodies as part ofa defl.ant effort to displace their
importance. Asserting the primacy of female friendship, she attempts
to break with patriarchal male identification and loses the friendship of
her "conservative" buddy Nel, who has indeed capitulated to convention.
Even though readers of Sula witness her self-assertion and cele
bration ofautonomy, which Sula revels in even as she is dying, we also
know thatshe is notself-actualized enough tostayalive. Herawareness
ofwhat it means to be a radical subject does not cross the boundaries
of public and private; hers is a privatized self-discovery. Sula's death at
an early age does not leave the reader with a sense of her "power,"
instead she seems powerless to assert agency in a world that has no
interest in radical black female subjectivity, one that seeks to repress,
contain, and annihilate it. Sula is annihilated. The reader never knows
what force is killing her, eating her from the inside out. Since her
journey has been about the struggle to invent herself, the narrative
implies that it is the longing for "selfhood" that leads to destruction.
Those black women who survive, who live to tell the tale, so to speak,
are the "goodgirls," the oneswho have beenself-saaificing, hardworking
black women. Sula's fate suggests that charting the journey of radical
black female subjectivity is toodangerous, too risky. And while Sula
is glad to have broken the rules, she is not a triumphant figure. Sula,
like so many other black female characters in contemporary fiction,
has no conscious polities, never links her struggle to be self-defining
with the collective plight of black women. Yet this novel was written
at the peak of contemporary feminist movement. Given the "power"
Revolutionary Black Women
of Sula's black female author/creator, Toni MOrrison, why does she
appear on the page as an "artistwithout an artform"? Is it too much like
"treason"-like disloyalty to black womanhood-to question this por
trait of (dare I say it) "victimization," to refuse to be seduced by Sula's
exploits or ignore their outcome?
There are black female characters in contemporary fictions who
are engaged in political work. Velma, the radical actiVist in Toni Cade
Bambara's The Salteaters, has grounded her struggle for meaning
within activistwork for black liberation. Overwhelmed by responsibil
ity, by the sense of having to bear too much, too great a weight, she
attempts suicide. This novel begins with older radical black women
problematizing the question of black female subjectivity. Confronting
Velma's attemptatself-destructionandself-erasure, theywant to know,
"are you sure, sweetheart, that you want to be well?" Wellness here is
synonymous with radical subjectivity. Indeed, the elders will go on to
emphasize that Velma's plight, and that ofother blackwomen like her,
reflects the loss of "maps" that will chart the journeyfor black females.
They suggest that it is the younger generation's attempt to assimilate,
to follow allen maps, that leads to the loss of perspective. Velma only
came back to life (for though she fails to kill herself, she is spiritually
dead) whenshe testifies to herselfthatshe indeedwillchoose wellness,
will claim herself and nurture that radical subjectivity. Like Paule
Marshall's Praisesongfor the Widow and Gloria Naylor's MamaDay,
the "radical" black women elders with fresh memories of slavery
holocaust, of the anguish of reconstruction, who sustain their courage
in resistance, live fruitfully outside conventional gender roles. They
either do not conform or they acknowledge the way conformity rarely
enables black fetpale self-actualization.
Representing a new generation of "modem" black women,
Velma, even as she is in the process of recovery, critiques her desire to
make a self against the grain, and questions "what good did wild do
you, since there was always some low-life gruesomegang-bang raping
lawless careless petty laststraw nasty thing ready to pounce--putyour
shit under total arrest and crack your back?" Wild is the metaphOric
expression of that inner will to rebel, to move against the grain, to be
out of one's place. It is the expression of radical black female subjec
tiVity. Law professor Regina Austin calls black women to cultivate this
"wildness" as a survival strategy in her piece "Sapphire Bound." Signif
icantly, she begins the essay by calling attention to the fact that folks
seem to be more eager to read about wild blackwomenin fictions than
to make way for us in real life. Reclaiming that wildness, she declares:
29. 50 51
BLACK LOOKS
Well, I think the time has come for us to get truly hysterical, to
take on the role of"professional Sapphires" in a forthright way, to
declare that we are serious about ourselves, and to capture some
of the intellectual power and resources that are necessary to
combat the systematic denigration of minority women. It is time
for Sapphire to testify on her own behalf, in writing, complete
with footnotes.
Ifthe writersofblackwomen'sfiction are not able to express the wilder,
more radical dimensions of themselves, in sustained and fruitful ways,
it is unlikely that they will create characters who "act up" and flourish.
They may doubt that there is an audience for fictions where black
women are not first portrayed as victims. Though fictions portray black
women being wild in resistance, confronting barriers that impede
self-actualization, rarely is the new "self' defined. Though Bambara
includes passages that let the reader know Velma lives, there are no
clues that indicate how her radical subjectivity will emerge in the
context of "wildness."
Consistently,contemporary black women writers link the strug
gle to become subject with a concern with emotional and spiritual
well-being. Most often the narcissistic-based individual pursuit of self
and identity subsumes the possibility of sustained commitment to
radical politics. This tension is played out again and again in Alice
Walker's The Third Life ofGrange Copeland. While the heroine, Ruth,
is schooled by her grandfather to think critically, to develop radical
political consciousness, in the end he fights against whites alone. It is
not clear what path Ruth will take in the future. Will she be a militant
warriorfor the revolutionor be kept in herplace by "strong" black male
lovers/patriarchswho, like hergrandfather, will be convinced that they
can best determine what conditions are conducive to producing black
frmale well-being? IrOnically, Meridian takes up where Ruth's story
ends, yet the older black woman activist, like Ruth, remains confined
and contained by a self-imposed domesticity. Is Meridian in hiding
because there is no place where her radical black subjectivity can be
expressed without punishment? Is the non-patriarchal home the only
safe place?
Contemporary fiction by black women focusing on the construc
tion of self and identity breaks new ground in that it clearly names the
ways structures of domination, racism, sexism, and class exploitation,
oppress and make it practically impossible for blackwomen to survive
if they do not engage in meaningful resistance on some level. Defiantly
Revolutionary Black Women
naming the condition ofoppression and personal strategies ofopposi
tion, such writing enables the individual black woman reader who has
not yet done so to question, and!or Critically affirms the efforts ofthose
readers who are already involved in resistance. Yet these writings often
fail to depict any location for the construction of new identities. It is
this textual gap that leads critic Sondra O'Neale to ask in her essay
"Inhibiting Midwives, Usurping Creators: The Struggling Emergence
of Black Women in American Fiction":
For instance, where are the Angela Davises, Ida B. Wellses, and
Daisy Bateses of black feminist literature? Where are the portraits
of those women who fostered their own action to liberate them
selves, other black women, and black men as well? We see a
sketch ofsuch a character in Meridian, but she is never devyloped
to a social and political success.
In an earlier essay, "The Politics of Radical Black Subjectivity," I
emphasized that opposition and resistance cannot be made synony
mous with self-actualization on an individual or collective level: "Op
position is not enough. In that vacant space after one has resisted there
is still the necessity to become-to make oneselfanew." While contem
porary writing by black women has brought into sharp focus the idea
that black females must "invent" selves, the question-what kind of
self?-i.lsually remains unanswered. The vision of selfhood that does
emerge now and then is one that is in complete concordance with
conventional western notions of a "unitary" self. Again it's worth
restating Donna Haraway's challenge to feminist thinkers to resist
making "one's own political tendencies to be the telos ofthe whole" so
we can accept different accounts of female experience and also face
ourselves as complex subjects who embody multiple locations. In "A
Manifesto for Cyborgs," she urges us to remember that, "The issue is
dispersion. The task is to survive in diaspora."
Certainly, collective black female experience has been about the
struggle to survive in diaspora. It is the intensity of that struggle, the
fear of failu.re (as we face daily the reality that many black people do
not and are not surviving) that has led many black women thinkers,
especially within feminist movement, to wrongly assume that strength
in unity canonlyexistifdifference issuppressedandshared experience
is highlighted. Though feminist writing by black women is usually
critical of the racism that has shaped and defined the parameters of
much contemporary feminist movement, it usually reiterates, in an
uncritical manner. major tenets ofdominant feminist thought. Admon
30. 52 53
BLACK LOOKS
ishing black women for wasting time critiquing white female racism,
Sheila Radford-Hill, in "Considering Feminism as a Model for Sodal
Change," urges black feminists:
...to build an agenda that meets the needs of black women by
helping blackwomentomobilize aroundissuesthat they perceive
to have a direct impact on the overall quality of their lives. Such
is the challenge that defined Our struggle and constitutes our
legacy...Thus, black women need to develop their own leader
ship and t,heir own agenda based on the needs of their primary
constituent base; that is, based around black women, their fami
lies, and their communities. This task cannot be furthered by
dialoging with white women about their inherent racism.
While I strongly agree with Radford-HilI's insistence that bla~
critical thinkers engaged in feminist movement develop strategies that
directly address the concerns of our diverse black communities, she
constructs an either/or proposition that obscures the diversity of our
experiences and locations. For those black womenwho live and work
in predominantly white settings (and of course the reality is that most
black women work jobswhere their supervisors are white women and
men), it is an appropriate and necessary political project for them to
work at critical interrogations and interventions that address white
racism. Such efforts do not preclude simultaneous work in black
communities. Evocations of an "essentialist" notion of black identity
seek to deny the extent to which aU blackfolk must engage with whites
as well as exclude individuals from "blackness" whose perspectives,
values, or lifestyles may differ from a totaliZing notion of black experi
ence that sees only those folk who live in segregated communities or
have little contact with whites as "authentically" black. '
Radford-Hill's essay is most insightful when she addresses "the
crisis of black womanhood,» stating that "the extent to which black
feminists can articulate and solve the crisis of black womanhood is the
extent to which black women will undergo a femi.nist transfonnation.»
The crisis Radford-Hill describes is a crisis of identity and subjectivity.
When the major struggle black women addressed was opposition to
racism and the goal of that struggle was equality in the existing sodal
structures, when most black folks were poor and lived in racially segre
gated neighborhoods, genderroles for blackwomenwere more clearly
defmed. We had a placein the "struggle" as well as ~place in the social
institutions ofour communities. It was easierfor blackwomen to chart
the journey of selfhood. With few job options in the segregated labor
Revolutionary Black Women
force, most blackwomen knew that they would be engaged in service
workorbecometeachers. Today's blackwoman has more options even
though most of the barriers that would keep herfrom exercising those
options are still in place. Racial integration, economic changes in black
class relations, the impact of consumer capitalism, as well as a male
centered contemporary black liberation struggle (which devalued the
contributions ofblack females) and a feminist movement which called
into question idealized notions of womanhood have radically altered
black female reality. Formany blackwomen, especially the underclass,
the dream of racial equality was intimately linked with the fantasy that
once the struggle was over, black women would be able to assume
conventional sexist gender roles. To some extent there is a crisis in
black womanhood because most blackwomen have not responded to
these changes by radically reinventing themselves, by developing new
maps to chart future journeys. And more crucially, most black women
have not responded to this crisis by developing critical consciousness,
by becoming engaged in radical movements for social change.
When we examine the lives of individual black women who did
indeed respond to contemporary char?-ges, we see just how difficult it
is for black women to construct radical subjectivity. Two powerful
autobiographies of radical black women were published in the early
1970s. In 1970, Shirley Chisholm published Unbought and Unbossed,·
chronicling the events that led to herbecomingthe ftrst black congress
woman. In 1974, Angela Davis: AnAutobiographywas published. Both
accounts demonstrate that the construction of radical black female
subjectivity is rooted in a willingness to go against the grain. Though
many folks may not see Chisholm as "radical," she was one of the ftrst
black female leaders to speak against sexism, stressing in the introduc
tion to her book: "Ofmy two 'handicaps,' being female put many more
obstacles in my path than being black." An outspoken advocate of
reproductive and abortion rights for women, Chisholm responded to
black males whowere not opposed to compulsorypregnancyfor black
women by arguing: "Which is more like genocide, I have asked some
of my black brothers-this, the way things are, or the conditions I am
fighting for in which the full range of family planning service is fully
available to women of all classes and colors; starting with effective
contraception and extending to safe, legal tennination of undesired
pregnancies, at a price they can afford?"
Militant in her response to racism, Chisholm also stressed
the need for education for critical consciousness to help eradicate
internalized racism:
31. 54 55
BLACK LOOKS
It is necessary for our generation to repudiate Carver and all the
lesser-known black leaderswho cooperated with the white design
to keep their people down. We need none of their kind today.
Someday, when, God willing, the struggle is overand its bitterness
has faded, those men and woman may be rediscovered and given
their just due for working as best they could see to do in their time
and place, for their brothers and sisters. But at present their
influence is pernicious, and where they still control education in
the North orthe South, they must be replaced with educators who
are ready to demand full equality for the oppressed races and fight
for it at any cost.
As a radical black female subject who would not allow herself to
be the puppet of any group, Chisholm was often harassed, mocked,
and ridiculed by colleagues. Psychological terrorism was often the
weapon used to try and coerce her into silence, to convince her she
knew nothing about politics, or worse yet that she was "crazy.n Often
her colleagues described her as mad if she took positions they could
not understand or would not have taken. Radical black female subjects
are constantly labeled crazy by those who hope to undermine our
personal power and our ability to influence others. Fear of being seen
as insane may be a major factor keeping black women from expressing
their most radical selves. Just recently, when I spoke against the
omnipresent racism and sexism at a conference, callingit terroristic, the
organizers toldfolks Iwas "crazy.n While this hurtand angered, itwould
have wounded me more had I not understood theways this appellation
is used by those in power to keep the powerless in their place.
Remembering Chisholm'S experience, I knew that I was not alone in
confronting racist, sexist attacks that are meant to silence. Knowing that
Chisholm claimed her right to subjectivity without apology inspires me
to maintain courage.
Recently rereading the autobiography of Angela Davis, I was
awed by her courage. I could appreciate the obstacles she confronted
and her capacity to endure and persevere in a new way. Reading this
work in my teens, her courage seemed like "no big deal." At the
beginning of the work, Davis eschews any attempt to see herself as
exceptional. Framing the narrative in this way, it is easy for readers to
ignore the specificity of her experience. In fact, very few black females
at the time had gone to radical high schools where they learned about
SOcialism or traveled to Europe and studied at the Sorbonne. Yet Davis
insists that her situation is like that of all black people. This gesture of
solidarity, though important, at times obscures the reality that Davis'
Revolutionary Black Women
radical understanding of politics was learned as was her critical con
sciousness. Hadshevoiced hersolidaritywith underclass black people,
while simultaneously stressing the importance of learning, ofbroadening
one's perspective, she would have shared with black females tools that
enable one to be a radical subject.
Like Chisholm, Davis confronted sexism when she fully committed
herself to working for political change:
I became acquainted very early with the widespread presence of
an unfortunate syndrome among some Black male activists
namely to confuse their political activity with an assertion oftheir
maleness. Theysaw--and some continue tosee--Black manhood
as something separate from Black womanhood. These men view
Black women as a threat to their attainment of manhood--espe
dally those Black women who take initiative and work to become
leaders in their. own right.
Working in the radical black liberation movement, Davis constantly
confronted and challenged sexism even as she critiqued the pervasive
racism in mainstream feminist movement. Reading her autobiography,
itis clear thatreading and studyingplayed a tremendous role inshaping
her radical political consciousness. Yet Davis understood that one
needed to go beyond books and work collectively with comrades for
social change. She critiqued self-focused work to emphasize the value
of working in solidarity:
Floating from activity to activity was no revolutionary anything.
Individualactivity-sporadicanddisconnected-isnotrevolutionary
work. Serious revolutionary work consists ofpersistentand method
ical efforts through a collective of other revolutionaries to organize
the masses for action. Since I had long considered myselfa Marxist,
the alternatives open to me were very limited.
Despite limited options, Davis' decision to advocate communism was
an uncommon and radical choice.
When the Davis autobiog~phy was written, she was thirty years
old; hermost militantexpression ofsubjectivity erupted in hertwenties.
Made into a cultural icon, a gesture that was not in line with her
,insistence on the importance of collectivity and fellowship, she came
to be represented in mass media as an "exceptional" blackwoman. Her
experience was not seen as a model young black women could learn
from. Manyparents pointed to the prisonsentence she served as reason
enough for black women not to follow in her footsteps. Black males
32. 57
BLACK LOOKS
56
who wanted the movement to be male-centered were not trying to
encourage other black women to be on the Left, to fully commit
themselves to a revolutionary black liberation struggle. At public ap
pearances, Angela Davis was not and is not flanked by other black
women on the Left. Constantly projected as an "isolated" figure, her
presence, her continued commitment to critical thinking and critical
pedagogy, has not had the gab/anizing impact on black females that it
could have. Black women "worship" Davis from a distance, see her as
exceptional. Though young black women adore Davis, they do not
often read herwork norseek to follow herexample. Yetlearningabout
those black women who have dared to assert radical subjectivity, is a
necessary part of black female self-actualization. Coming to power, to
selfhood, to radical subjectivity cannot happen in isolation. Black
women need to study the writings, both critical and autobiographidl,
of those women who have developed their potential and chosen to be
radical subjects.
Critical pedagogy, the sharing of information and knowledge by
black women with black women, is crucial for the development of
radical black female subjectivity (not because black women can only
learn from one another, but because the circumstances of racism,
sexism, and class explOitation ensure that other groups will not neces
sarily seek to further our self-determination). This process requires of
us a greater honesty about how we live. Black females (especially
students) who are searching for answers about the social formation of
identity want to know how radical black women think but they also
want to know about our habits of being. Wnfutgness to share openly
one's personal experience ensures that one will not be made into a
deified icon. When black females learn about my life, they also learn
about the mistakes I make, the contradictions. They come to know my
limitations as well as my strengths. They cannot dehumanize me by
placing me on a pedestal. Sharing the contradictions of our lives, we
help each ollier learn how to grapple with contradictions as part ofthe
process of becoming a critical thinker, a radical subject.
The lives of Ella Baker, Fannie Lou Hamer, Septima Clark, Lucy
Parson, Ruby Doris Smith Robinson, Angela Davis, Bernice Reagon,
Alice Walker, Audre Lorde, and countless others bear witness to the
difficulty of developing radical black female subjectivity even as they
attest to the joy and triumph of living with a decolonized mind and
participating in ongoing resistance struggle. The' narratives of black
women who have militantly engaged in radical struggles for change
offerinSights. They let us know the conditions that enable the construc
(
Revolutionary Black Women
lion of radical black female subjectivity as well as the obstacles that
impede its development. In most cases, radical black female subjects
have willingly challenged the status quo and gone against the grain.
Despite the popularity of Angela Davis as a cultural icon, most black
women are "punished" and "suffer" when they make choices that go
against the prevailing societal sense ofwhat a black woman should be
and do. Most radical black female subjects are not caught up in
consumer capitalism. Living simply is often the price one pays for
choosing to be different. It was no accident that Zora Neale Hurston
died poor. Radical black female subjects have had to educate ourselves
for critical consciousness, reading, studying, engaging in critical peda
gogy, transgressing boundaries to acqUire the knowledge we need.
Those rare radical black women who have started organizations and
groups are attempting to build a collective base that will support and
enable theirwork. Manyoftheseblackwomencreatesites ofresistance
that are far removed from conservatizing institutions inorder to sustain
their radical commitments. Those of us who remain in institutions that
do not support our efforts to be radical subjects are daily assaulted. We
persevere because we believe our presence is needed, is important.
Developing a feminist consciousness is a crucial part of the
process bywhichone asserts radical blackfemale subjectivity. Whether
she has called herselfa feminist ornot, there is no radical black woman
subject who has not been forced to confront and challenge sexism. If,
however, that individual struggle is not connected to a larger feminist
movement, theneveryblackwomanfinds herselfreinventingstrategies
to cope when we should be leaVing a legacy offeminist resistance that
can nourish, sustain, and guide other black women and men. Those
blackwomen who valiantly advocate feminism often bear the brunt of
severe critique from other black folks. As radical subject, the young
Michele Wallace wrote one of the first book length, polemical works
on feminism that focused on black folks. She did not become a cultural
icon; to a great extent she was made a pariah. Writing about her
experience in "The Politics of Location: Cinema! Theory/ Literature/
Ethnicity/ Sexuality/ Me," she remembers the pain:
I still ponder the book I wrote, BlackMacho and The Myth ofthe
Superwoman, and the disturbance it caused: how black women
are not allowed to establish their own intellectual terrain, to make
theirown mistakes, to invent their own birthplace in writing. I still
pondermy book'srightness andwrongness, and howits reception
almost destroyed me so that I vowed never to write political
andlor theoretical statements about feminism again.
33. 58 BLACK LOOKS
Wallace suffered in isolation, with no group of radical black women
rallying to her defense, or creating a context where critique would not
lead to trashing.
Without a context of critical affirmation, radical black female
subjectivity cannot sustain itself. Often black women turn away from
the radicalism of their younger days as they age because the isolation,
the sense of estrangement from community, becomes too difficult to
bear. Critical affirmation is a concept that embraces both the need to
affirm one another and to have a space for critique. Significantly, that
critique is not rooted in negative desire to compete, to wound, to trash.
Though I began this piece with critical statements about Audre Lorde's
essay, I affirm the value of her work. The "Eye to Eye" essay remains
one of the most insightful discussions of black female interaction.
Throughout the essay, Lorde emphasizes the importance ofaffirmation,
encouraging black women to be gentle and affectionate with one
another. Tenderness should not simply be a form of care extended to
those black women who think as we do. Many of us have been in
situations where black females are sweet to the folks in their clique and
completely hostile to anyone deemed an outsider.
In "Eye to Eye," Lorde names this problem. Offering strategies
black women might use to promote greater regard and respect, she says
that "black women must love ourselves." Loving ourselves begins with
understanding the forces that have produced whatever hostility toward
blackness and femaleness that is felt, but it also means learning new
ways to think about ourselves. Often the black women who speak the
most about love and sisterhood are deeply attached to essentialist
notions of black female identity that promote a "policing" of anyone
who does not conform. Ironically, ofcourse, the onlywayblackwomen
can construct radical subjectivity is by resisting set norms and chal
lenging the politics of domination based on race, class, and sex.
Essentialist perspectives on black womanhood often perpetuate the
false assumption that black females, simply by living in white suprema
cist/capitalist/patriarchy, are radicalized. They do not encourage black
women to develop their critical thinking. Individual black women on
the Left often find their desire to read or write "theory," to be engaged
in critical dialogues with diverse groups, mocked and ridiculed. Often,
I am criticized for studying feminist theory, especially writing by white
women. And I am seen as especially "naive" when I suggest that even
though a white woman theorist may be "racist," she may also have
valuable information that I can learn from. Until black women fully
recognize that we must collectively examine and study our experience
59
Revolutionary Black Women
from a feminist standpOint, there will always be lags and gaps in the ( .
structure of our epistemologies. Where are our feminist books on
mothering, on sexuality, on feminist film criticism? Where are our
autobiographies that do not falsely represent our reality in the interest
of promoting monolithic notions of black female experience or cele
brating how wonderfully we have managed to overcome oppression?
Though autobiography or any type of confessional narrative is
often devalued in North American letters, this genre has always had a
privileged place in African American literary history. As a literature of
resistance, confessional narratives by black folks were didactic. More
than any other genre ofwriting, the production of honest confessional
narratives by blackwomen who are struggling to be self-actualized and
to become radical subjects are needed as guides, as texts that affirm our
fellowship with one another. (I need not feel isolated if I know that
there are other comrades with similar experiences. I learn from their
strategies of resistance and from their recording of mistakes.) Even as
the number of novels published by black women increase, this writing
cannot be either asubstitute for theory or for autobiographical narra
tive. Radical blackwomen need to tell ourstories; we cannot document
our experience enough. Works like Lemon Swamp, Balm in Gilead,
Ready From Within, and Every Goodbye Ain't Gone, though very
different, and certainly not all narratives of radical black female
subjectivity, enable readers to understand the complexity and diversity
of black female experience.
There are few contemporary autobiographies by black women
on the Left. We need to hear more from courageous black women who
have gone against the grain to assert nonconformist politics and habits
of being, folks like Toni Cade Bambara, GloriaJoseph, Faye Harrison,
JuneJordan, and so many others. These voices can give testimony and
share the process of transformation black women undergo to emerge
as radical subjects. Black females need to know who our revolutionary
comrades are. Speaking about her commitment to revolution, Angela
Davis notes:
For me revolution was never an interim "thing-to-do" before
settling down: it was no fashionable club with newly minted
jargon, or a new kind of social life-made thrilling by risk and
confrontation, made glamorous by costume. Revolution is a seri
ous thing, the mostserious thing aboutarevolutionary'S life. when
one commits oneself to the struggle, it must be for a lifetime.
34. 60 BLACK LOOKS
The crisis ofblackwomanhood can only be addressed by the develop
ment of resistance struggles that emphasize the importance of
decolonizing our minds, developing critical consciousness. Feminist
politics can be an integral part of a renewed black liberation struggle.
Blackwomen, particularlythose ofus who have chosen radical subjec
tivity, can move toward revolutionary sodal change that will address
the diversity of our experiences and our needs. Collectively bringing
ourknowledge, resources, skills, andwisdom to one another, we make
the site where radical black female subjectivity can be nurtured and
sustained.
.~
/ ' .
Chapter 4
SeUing Hot Pussy
Representations of Black Female Sexuality
in the Cultural Marketplace
Friday night in a small midwestern town-I go with a group of
artists and professors to a late night dessert place. As we walk past a
group ofwhite menstanding in the entryway to the place, we overhear
them talking about us, saying that my companions, who are all white,
must be liberals from the college, not regular "townies," to be hanging
out with a "nigger.» Everyone in my group acts as though they did not
hear a word.of this conversation. Even when I call attention to the
comments, no one responds. It's like I am not only not talking, but
suddenly, to them, I am not there. I am invisible. For my colleagues,
racism expressed in everyday encounters--this is our second such
experience together-is only an unpleasantness to be avoided, not
something to be confronted orchallenged. Itis justsomething negative
disrupting the good time, better to not notice and pretend it's not there.
Aswe enterthe dessert placethey all burst intolaughterand point
to a row of gigantic chocolate breasts complete with nipples-huge
edible tits. They think this is a delicious idea-seeing no connection
between this racialized image and the racism expressed in the entry
way. Living in a world where white folks are no longer nursed and
nurtured primarilyby blackfemale caretakers, they do not lookat these
symbolic breasts and consciously think about "mammies." They do not
see this representation of chocolate breasts as a sign of displaced
61
35. 62 BLACK LOOKS
longing for a racist past when the bodies of black women were
commodity, available to anyone white who could pay the price. I look
at these dark breasts and think about the representation ofblack female
bodies in popular culture. Seeing them, I think about the connection
between contemporary representations and the types of images popu
larized from slavery on. I remember HarrietJacobs' powerful exposeof
the psycho-sexual dynamics ofslavery in Incidents in the Life ofa Slave
Girl. I remember the way she described that "peculiar" institution of
domination and the white people who constructed it as "a cage of
obscene birds."
Representations ofblack female bodies in contemporary popular
culture rarelysubvertorcritiqueimagesofblackfemale sexualitywhich
were part of the cultural apparatus of 19th-century racism and which
still shape perceptions today. Sander Gilman's essay, "Black Bodies,
White Bodies: Toward an Iconography of Female Sexuality in Late
Nineteenth-CenturyArt, Medicine, and Literature," calls attention to the
way black presence in early North American societyallowed whites to
sexualize their world by projecting onto black bodies a narrative of
sexualization disassociated from whiteness. Gilman documents the
development of this image, commenting that "by the eighteenth cen
tury, the sexuality of the black, male and female, becomes an icon for
deviant sexuality." He emphasizes that it is the black female body that
is forced to serve as "an icon for black sexuality in general."
Most often attention was not focused on the complete black
female on display at a fancy ball in the "civilized" heart of European
culture, Paris. She is there to entertain guests with the naked image of
Otherness. They are not to look at her as a whole human being. They
are to notice only certain parts. Objectified in a manner similar to that
of black female slaves who stood on auction blocks while owners and
overseers described their important, salable parts, the black women
whose naked bodies were displayed for whites at sodal functions had
no presence. They were reduced to mere spectacle. Little is known of
theirlives, their motivations. Theirbody parts were otr:ered as evidence
to support racist notions that black people were more akin to animals
than other humans. When Sarah Bartmann's body was exhibited in
1810, she was ironically and perversely dubbed "the Hottentot Venus."
Her naked body was displayed on numerous occasions for five years.
When she died, the mutilated partswere stillsubjectto scrutiny. Gilman
stressed that: "The audience which had paid to see her buttocks and
had fantasized about theuniqueness ofhergenitaliawhenshewasalive
could, after her death and dissection, examine both." Much of the
Selling Hot Pussy 63
racialized fascination with Bartmann's body concentrated attention on
her buttocks.
A similar white European fascination with the bodies of black
people, particularly black female bodies, was manifest during the
career ofJosephine Baker. Content to "exploit" white eroticization of
black bodies, Bakercalled attention to the "butt" in her dance routines.
Phyllis Rose, though oftencondescendingin herrecentbiography,Jazz
Cleopatra:Josephine BakerIn Her Time, perceptivelyexplores Baker's
concentration on her ass:
She handled it as though it were an instrument, a rattle, some
thing apart from herself that she could shake. One can hardly
overemphasize·the importance of the rear end. Baker herself
declared that people had been hiding their asses too long. "The
rear end exists.. I see no reason to be ashamed of it. It's true
there are rear ends so stupid, so pretentious, so insignificant
that they're good only for sitting on." With Baker's triumph, the
erotic gaze of a nation moved downward: she had uncovered
a new region for desire.
Many of Baker's dance moves highlighting the "butt" prefigure move
ments popular in contemporary black dance.
Although contemporary thinking about blackfemale bodies does
not attempt to read the body as a sign of "natural" racial inferiority, the
fascination with black "butts" continues. In the sexual iconography of
the traditional black pornographic imagination, the protruding butt is
seen as an indication ofa heightened sexuality. Contemporary popular
music is one of the primary cultural locations for discussions of black
sexuality. In song lyrics, "the butt" is talked about in ways that attempt
to challenge racist assumptions that suggest it is an ugly sign of inferi
ority, even as it remains a sexualized sign. The popular song, "Doin' (
the Butt," fostered the promotion of a hot new dance faVOring those (
who could most protrude their buttocks with pride and glee. A scene
in Spike Lee's film School Daze depicts an all black party where
everyone is attired in swimsuits dancing-doing the butt. It is one of
the most compelling moments in the film. The black "butts" on display
are unruly and outrageous. They are not the still bodies of the female
slave made to appear as mannequin. They are not a silenced body.
Displayed as playful cultural nationalist resistance, they challenge
assumptions that the black body, its skin color and shape, is a mark of
shame. Undoubtedly the most transgreSSive and provocative moment
in SchoolDaze, this celebrationofbuttocks eitherinitiatedorcoincided
36. 65
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64
with an emphasisonbutts, especiallythebuttocks ofwomen, infashion
magazines. Its potential to disrupt and challenge notions of black
bodies, specifically female bodies, was undercut by the overall sexual
humiliation and abuse of black females in the ftIm. Many people did
notsee the film soit was really the song "Doin' the Butt" thatchallenged
dominant ways of thinking about the body which encourage us to
ignore asses because they are associated with undesirable and unclean
acts. Unmasked, the "butt" could be once again worshiped as an erotic
seat of pleasure and excitement.
When calling attention to the body in a manner inviting the
gaze to mutilate black female bodies yet again, to focus solely on
the "butt," contemporary celebrations of this part of the anatomy do
not successfully subvert sexist/racist representations. Just as 19th
century representations of black female bodies were constru"'tted
to emphasize that these bodies were expendable, contemporary
images (even those created in black cultural production) give a
similar message. When Richard Wright's prolest novel Native Son
was made into a film in the 1980s, the film did not show the murder
of Bigger's black girlfriend Bessie. This was doubly ironic. She is
murdered in the novel and then systematically eliminated in the film.
Painters exploring race as artistic subject matter in the 19th century
often created images contrasting white female bodies with black
ones in ways that reinforced the greater value of the white female
icon. Gilman's essay colludes in this critical project: he is really most
concerned with exploring white female sexuality.
A similar strategy is employed in the Wright novel and in the
film version. In the novel, Bessie is expendable because Bigger has
already committed the more heinous crime ofkilling a white woman.
The first and more important murder subsumes the second. Every
one cares about the fate ofMary Dalton, the ruling class whitefemale
daughter; no one cares about the fate of Bessie. Ironically, just at the
moment when Bigger decides that Bessie's body is expendable, that
he will kill her, he continues to demand that she help him, that she
"do the right thing." Bigger intends to use her then throw her away,
a gesture reinforcing that hers is an expendable body. While he must
transgress dangerous boundaries to destroy the body of a white
female, he can invade and violate a black female body with no fear
of retribution and retaliation.
Black and female, sexual outside the context offIlarriage, Bessie
represents "fallenwomanhood." She has no protectors, no legal system
Selling Hot Pussy
will defend her rights. Pleading her cause to Bigger, she asks for
recognition and compassion for her specific condition.
Bigger, please! Don't do this to me! Please! All I do is work, work
like a dog! From morning till night. I ain't got no happiness. I ain't
never had none. I ain't got nothing and you do this to me...
Poignantlydescribing the lotofworking-class poorblackwomen
in the 19405, her words echo those of poet Nikki Giovanni describing
the status of black women in the late 1960s. The opening lines to
"Woman Poem" reads: ''You see my whole life is tied up to unhappi
ness." There !s a radical difference, however. In the 1960s, the black
female is naming her unhappiness to demand a hearing, an acknowl
edgment ofherreality, and change her status. This poem speaks to the
desire of blackwomen to construct a sexuality apart from that imposed
upon us by a racisr/sexist culture, calling attention to the ways we are
trapped by conventional notions of sexuality and desirability:
...it's a sexobject ifyou're pretty and no love or love and no sex
if you're fat get back fat black woman be a mother grandmother
strong thing but not woman gameswoman romantic woman love
needer man seeker dick eater sweat getter fuck needing love
seeking woman
"Woman Poem" is a cry of resistance urging those who exploit and
oppress black women, who objectify and dehumanize, to confront
the consequences of their actions. Facing herself, the black female
realizes all that she must struggle against to achieve self-actualization.
She must counter the representation of herself, her body, her being
as expendable.
Bombarded with images representing black female bodies as
expendable, blackwomen have either passivelyabsorbed this thinking
orvehemently'resisted it. Popular culture provides countless examples
of black female appropriation and exploitation of "negative stereo
types" to either assert control over the representation or at least reap
the benefits of it. Since black female sexuality has been represented in
racisr/sexist iconography as more free and liberated, many black
women singers, irrespective of the quality of their voices, have culti
vated an image which suggests they are sexually available and licen
tious. Undesirable in the conventional sense, which defines beautyand
sexuality as desirable only to the extent that it is idealized and unattain
37. 66 BLACK LOOKS
able, the black female bodygains attention onlywhen it is synonymous
with accessibility, availability, when it is sexually deviant.
Tina Turner's construction of a public sexual persona most con
forms to this idea ofblack female sexuality. In herrecent autobiography
I, Tina she presents a sexualized portrait of herself-providing a
narrative that is centrally "sexual confession." Even though she begins
by calling attention to the fact that she was raised with puritanical
notions of innocence and virtuous womanhood which made her reti
cent and fearful of sexual experience, all that follows contradicts this
portrait. Since the image that has been cultivated and commodified in
popular culture is of her as "hot" and highly sexed-the sexually ready
and free black woman-a tension exists in the autobiography between
the reality she presents and the image she must uphold. Describing her
first sexual experience, Turner recalls: '.,
Naturally, I lost my virginity in the backseat of a car. This was
the fifties, right? Ithink he had planned it, the little devil-he knew
by then that he could get into my pants, because there's already
been a lot of kissing and touching inside the blouse, and then
under the skirt and so forth. The next step was obvious. And me,
as brazen as I was, when it came down to finally doing the real
thing, it was like: "Uh-oh, it's time." Imean, Iwas scared. And then
it happened.
Well, it hurt so bad-I think my earlobes were hurting. I was
just dying, God. And he wanted to do it two or three times! It was
like poking an open wound. I could hardly walk afterwards.
But Idid it for love. The pain was excruciating; but Iloved him
and he loved me, and that made the pain less-Everything was
right. So it was beautiful.
Only there is nothing beautiful about the scenario Turner describes. A
tension exists between the "cool" way she describes this experience,
playing it off to suggest she was in control of the situation, and the
reality she recounts where she succumbs to male lust and suffers sex.
After describing a painful rite of sexual initiation, Turner undermines
the confession by telling the reader that she felt good. Through
retrospective memory, Turner is able to retell this experience in a
manner that suggests she was comfortable with sexual experience at
an early age, yet cavalier language does not completely mask the
sufferingevokedby the detailsshegives. However, this cavalierattitude
accords best with how her fans "see" her. Throughout the biography
she will describe situations of extreme sexual victimization and then
undermine the impact of her words by evoking the image of herself
67
Selling Hot Pussy
and other black women as sexually free, suggesting that we assert (.
sexual agency in ways that are never confirmed by the evidence she
provides.
Tina Turner'S singing career has been based on the construction
of an image of black female sexuality that is made synonymous with
wild animalistic lust. Raped and exploited by Ike Turner, the man who
made this image and imposed it on her, Turner describes the way her
public persona as singer was shaped by his pornographic misogynist
imagination:
Ike explained: As a kid back in Clarksdale, he'd become fixated
on the white iungle goddess who romped through Saturday
matinee movie serials-revealingrag-clad women with longflow
ing hairandnames like Sheena, QueenoftheJungle, andNyoka
particularly Nyoka. He still remembered The Perils ofNyoka, a
flfteen-part Republic Picture serial from 1941, starringKay Alridge
in the title role and featuring a villainess named Vultura, an ape
named Satan; and Clayton Moore Oater to be 1V's Lone Ranger)
as love interest. Nyoka, Sheena-Tina! Tina Turner-Ike's own
personal Wild Woman. He loved it.
Turner makes no comment about her thoughts about this image.
How can she? It is part of the representation which makes and
maintains her stardom.
Ike's pornographic fantasy of the black female as wild sexual
savage emergedfrom the impactofawhite patriarchalcontrolled media
shaping his perceptions of reality. His decision to create the wild black
woman was perfectly compatible with prevailing representations of
black female sexuality in a white supremacist society. Of course the
Tina Turner story reveals that she was anything but a wild womanj she
was fearful of sexuality, abused, humiliated, fucked, and fucked over.
Turner'Sfriends and colleagues document the myriadwaysshe suffered
about the experience of being brutally physically beaten prior to
appearing onstageto perform, yet there is no account ofhowshe coped
with the contradiction (this story is told by witnesses in I, Tina). She
was on one hand in excruciating pain inflicted by a misogynist man
who dominated her life and her sexuality, and on the other hand
projecting in every performance the image of a wild tough sexually
liberated woman. Not unlike the lead character in the novel Story of0
by Pauline Reage, Turner must act as though she glories in her submis
sion, that she delights in being a slave of love. Leaving Ike, after many
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years of forced marital rape and physical abuse, because his violence
is utterly uncontrollable, Turner takes with her the "image" he created.
Despite her experience of abuse rooted in sexist and racist objecti
fication, Turner appropriated the "wild womari" image, using it for
career advancement. Always fascinated with wigs and long hair, she
created the blonde lioness mane to appear all the more savage and
animalistic. Blondeness links her tojungle imagery even as it serves as
an endorsement of a racist aesthetics which sees blonde hair as the
epitome of beauty. Without Ike, Turner's career has soared to new
heights, particularlyas she works harder to exploit the visual represen
tation ofwoman (and particularly black woman) as sexual savage. No
longer caught in the sadomasochistic sexual iconography of black
female in erotic war with her mate that was the subtext of the Ike and
Tina Turner show, she is now portrayed as the autonomous mack
woman whose sexuality is solely a way to exert power. Inverting old
imagery, she places herself in the role of dominator.
Playing the role ofAunty Entity in the fum MadMax: Beyond the
Tbunderdome, released in 1985, Turner's character evokes two rac
ist/sexist stereotypes, that ofthe black "mammy" turned power hungry
and the sexual savage who uses her body to seduce and conquer men.
Portrayed as lusting after the white male hero who will both conquer
and reject her, Aunty Entity is the contemporary reenactment of tha~
mythic black female inslaverywho supposedly ''vamped'' and seduced
virtuous white male slave owners. Of course the contemporary white
male hero ofMadMaxis strongerthan his colonial forefathers. He does
not succumb to the dangerous lure of the deadly black seductress who
rules over a mini-nation whose power is based on the use of shit.
Turner is the bad black woman in this film, an image she will
continue to exploit. ,"
Turner's video "What's Love Got To Do With It" also highlights
the convergence ofsexualityand power. Here, the blackwoman'sbody
is representedas potentialweapon. In thevideo, shewalksdown rough
city streets, strutting her stuff, in a way that declares desirability, allure,
while denying access. It is not that she is no longer represented as
available; she is "open" orily to thosewhom she chooses. Assuming the
role of hunter, she is the sexualized woman who makes men and
women her prey (in the alluring gaze of the video, the body moves in
the direction of both sexes). This tough black woman has no time for
woman bonding, she is out to "catch." Turner's fictive modelof·black
female sexualagency remains rooted inmisogynist notions. Ratherthan
Selling Hot Pussy
being apleasure-based eroticism, it is ruthless, Violent; it is about
women using sexual power to do violence to the male Other.
Appropriating the wild woman pornographic myth of black fe
malesexualitycreatedbymenina whitesupremacistpatriarchy,Turner
exploits itforherownends to achieve economicself-sufficiency. When
she left Ike, she was broke and in serious debt. The new Turner image
conveys the message that happiness and power come to women who
learn to beat men at their own game, to throw off any investment in
romance and get down to the real dog-eat-dog thing. "What's Love Got
To Do With It" sung by Turner evokes images of the strong bitchlfted
black woman who is on the make. Subordinating the idea of romantic
love and praising the use ofsexfor pleasure as commodityto exchange,
the song had great appeal for contemporary postmodern culture. It
equates pleasurewith materiality, making itanobjectto besoughtafter,
taken, acquired by any means necessary. When sung by black women
singers, "What's Love GotTo Do With It" calledto mind old stereotypes
which make the assertion of black female sexuality and prostitution
synonymous. Just as black female prostitutes in the 1940s and 1950s
activelysought clients in the streets10 make money to survive, thereby
publiclylinking prostitutionwith black female sexuality, contemporary
black female sexuality is fictively constructed in popular rap and R&B
songs solely as commodity-sexual service for money and power,
pleasure is secondary.
Contrast«rd with the representation ofwild animalistic sexuality,
black female singers like Aretha Franklin and younger contemporaries
like Anita Baker fundamentally link romance and sexual pleasure.
Aretha, though seen as a victim of no-good men, the classic "woman
who loves too much" and leaves the lyrics to prove it, also sang songs
ofresistance. "Respect"washeardbymanyblackfolks, especiallyblack
women, as a song chauenging black male sexism and female victimiza
tion while evoking notions ofmutual care and support. In a recent PBS
specialhighlightingindividualmusicians,ArethaFranklinwasfeatured.
Much space was given in the documentary to white male producers
who shaped her public image. In the documentary, she describes the
fun of adding the words "sock it to me" to "Respect" as a powerful
refrain. One of the white male producers, Jerry Wexler, offers his
interpretation of its meaning, claiming that il was a call for "sexual
attention of the highest order." His sexualized interpretations of the
song seemed far removed from the way it was heard and celebrated in
black communities. Looking at this documentary, which was suppos
edly a tribute to Aretha Franklin's power, it was impossible not to have
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one's attention deflected away from the music by the subtextofthe film,
which can be seen as a visual narrative documenting her obsessive
concern with the body and achieving a look suggesting desirability. To
achieve this end, Franklin constantly struggles with herweight, and the
images in the film chronicle her various shifts in body size and shape.
As though mocking this concernwith her body, throughout most ofthe
documentary Aretha appears in what seems to be a household setting,
a living room maybe, wearing a strapless eveningdress, much too small
for her breast size, so her breasts appear like two balloons filled with
water about to burst. With no idea who shaped and controlled this
image, I can only reiterate that it undermined the insistence in the film
that she has overcome sexual victimization and remained a powerful
singer; the latter seemed more likely than the former.
Black female singers who project a sexualized persona are as
obsessed with hair as they are with body size and body parts. As with
19th-century sexual iconography, specific parts of the anatomy are
deSignated more sexual and worthy of attention than others. Today
much of the sexualized imagery for black female stars seems to be
fixated on hair; it and not buttocks Signifies animalistic sexuality. This
is quintessentially so for Tina Turner and Diana Ross. It is ironically
appropriate that muchofthis hairis synthetic and man-made, artificially
constructed as is the sexualized image it is meant to evoke. Within a
patriarchal culture where women over forty are not represented as
sexually desirable, it is understandable that singers exploiting sexual
ized representations who are near the age offlfty place less emphasis
on body parts that may reflect aging while focusing on hair.
In a course I teach on "ThePolitics ofSexuality,» where we often
examine connections between race and sex, we once Critically ana
lyzed a Vanity Fair cover depicting Diana Ross. Posed on a white
background, apparently naked with the exception of white cloth
draped loosely around her body, the most striking element in the
portraitwas the long mane ofjetblack hair cascading down. There was
so much hair that it seemed to be consuming her body (which looked
frail and anorexic), negating the possibility that this naked flesh could
represent active female sexual agency. The white diaper-like doth
reinforced the idea that this was a portrait of an adult female who
wanted to be seen as childlike and innocent. Symbolically, the hair that
is almost a covering hearkens back to early pictorial images of Eve in
the garden. It evokes wildness, a: sense of the "natural" world, even as
it shrouds the body, repressing it, keeping it from the gaze of a culture
that does not invite women to be sexual subjects. Concurrently, this
Selling Hot Pussy
cover contrasts whiteness and blackness. Whiteness dominates the
page, obSCUring and erasing the possibility of any assertion of black
power. The longing that is most visible in this cover is that of the black
woman to embody and be encircled by whiteness, personified by the
possession of long straight hair. Since the hair is produced as commod
ity and purchased, it affums contemporary notions of female beauty
and desirability as that which can be acquired.
According to postmodem analyses offashion, this is a time when
commodities produce bodies,.-as this image of Ross suggests; In her
essay "Fashionand the Cultural Logic ofPostmodernlty," Gail Faurshou
explains' that beauty'is.no longer seen' as' a sustained "category of
precapitalistculture.» Instead, "the colonization and the appropriation
of the body'as its own production/consumption machine in late capi
talism'iS a'funaamenthl theme of contemporarysoclalization;" This
cultural shift enables the bodies of black women to be represented in
certain domains of the "beautiful" where they were once denied entry,
i.e., high fashion magazines. Reinscribed as spectacle, once again on
display, the bodies of black women appearing in these magazines are
not there to document the beauty of black skin, of black bodies, but
rather to call attention to other concerns. They are represented so
readers will notice..that the magazine is racially inclusive even though
their.features. are. oft:en ,distortedr their' bodies'contorted into strange
and bizarre postures thatmake the ,images appear monstroysor gro
tesque. They seem to represent an anti-aesthetic, one that mocks the
very notion of beauty.
Often black female models appear in portraits that make them
look less like humans and more like mannequins or robots. Currently,
black models whose hair is not straightened are often photographed
wearing straightwigs; this seems to be especially the case ifthe models'
features are unconventional, i.e., ifshe has large lips or particularlydark
skin, which is not often featured in the magazine. The October 1989
issue of Elle presented a short profile of designer Azzedine Alaia. He
stands at a distance from a black female body holding the sleeves of
her dress. Wearing a ridiculous straight hair-do, she appears naked
holding the dress in front of her body. The caption reads, "TIlEY ARE
BEAUTIFUL AREN'T THEY!" His critical gaze is on the model and not
the dress. As commentary it suggests that even black women can look
beautiful in the right outfit. Of course when you read the piece, this
statement is not referring to the model, but is a statement Alaia makes
about his clothes. In contemporary postmodern fashion sense, the
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.
black female is the best medium for the showing ofclothes because her
image does not detract from the outfit; it is subordinated.
Years ago,when much Juss. was made_about the reluctance 'of
fashion magazines to include images ofblackwomen; it wasas8umed
that the presence of such representations would iO' and of themselves
challenge radststereotypes that imply black women are not beautiful.
Nowadays, black women are included in magazines in a manner that
tends to reinscribe prevailing'stereotypes. Darker-skinned models are
most likely to appear in photographswhere theirfeatures are distorted.
Bi-racial women tend to appear in sexualized images. Trendy cata
logues like TweedsandJ. Crewmake use ofa racialized subtext in their
layout and advertisements. Usually they are emphasizing the connec
tion between a white European and American style. When they began
to include darker-skinned models, they chose bi-racial or fair-skinne4,
black women, particularly with blonde or light brown long hair. Ifhe"
non-white.. models,-appearing'in'these catalogUes'musFresemble 'as
closely as possible theirwhite counterparts so as not to detractJrom the
racialized subtext. A recent cover of Tweedscamed this statement:
Color is, perhaps, one of the most important barometers of
character and self-assurance. It is as much a part of the inter
national language of clothes as silhouette. The message colors
convey, however, should never overwhelm. They should
speak as eloquently and intelligently as the wearer. Whenever
colors have that intelligence, subtlety, and nuance we tend to
call them European...
Given the racialized terminology evoked in this copy, it follows
that when flesh is exposed in attire that is meant to evoke sexual
deSirability it is worn by a non-white model. As sexist/racist sexual'
mythologywould have it, she is the embodimentofthe best oftheblack
female savage tempered by those elements ofwhiteness that softenthis
image, giving it an aura of virtue and innocence. In the radalized
pornographic imagination, she is the perfect combination ofvirgin and
whore, the ultimate vamp. The impact of this image is so intense that
Iman, a highly paid black fashion modelwho once receivedworldwide
acclaim because she was the perfect black clone ofa white ice goddess
beauty, has had to change. Postmodern notions that black female
beauty is constructed, not innate or inherent, are personified by the
career of Iman. Noted in the past for features this culture sees as
"Caucasian"-thin nose,lips, and 11mbs--Iman appears in the October
1989 issue of Vogue"made over." Her lips andbreasts are suddenlyfull.
Selling Hot Pussy
Having once had her "look" destroyed by a car accident and then
remade, Iman now goes a step further. Displayed as the embodiment
of a heightened sexuality, she now looks like the radaVsexual stereo
type. Inone full-page shot, sheis naked, wearing onlya pairofbrocade
boots, looking as though she is ready to stand on any street comer and
tum a trick, orworse yet, as though she justwalked offone ofthe pages
of Players (a porn magazine for blacks). Iman's new image appeals to
a culture that is eager to reinscribe the image ofblack woman as sexual
primitive. This-new representation'is a response-to contemporary.
fascination with an ethnic look; with the exoticOtherwh6promises to'
fulfill'radal,and· sexual"stereotypes; to-satisfy longirigs. This image is
but an extension of the edible black tit.
Currently, in the fashion world the new black female icon who is
also gaining greater notoriety, as she assumes both the persona of
sexually hot "savage" and white-identified black girl, is the Caribbean
born model Naomi CampbelL Imported beauty, she, like Iman, is
almost constantly visually portrayed nearly nude against a sexualized
background. Abandoning her "natural" hair for blonde wigs or ever
lengtheningweaves, she hasgreatcrossoverappeal. Labeledbyfashion
critics as the black Briget Bardot, she embodies an aesthetic that
suggests black women, while appealingly "different," must resemble
white women to be considered really beautiful.
Within literature and early film, this sanitized ethnic image was
defined as that of the "tragic mulatto." Appearing in film, she was the
vamp that white men feared. As Julie Burchill puts it outrageously in
Girls On Film:
In the mature Forties, Hollywood decided to get to grips with the
meaty and messytopic ofmultiracial romance, butitwas a morbid
business. Even when the girls were gorgeous white girls--multi-,.
racial romance brought tears; traumas; and suicide:The message
was clear: you inteIHgent white men suffer enough guilt because
ofwhatyourgrandaddydid-you want to suffersome more! Keep
away from"those gir!s~
Contemporary films portraying bi-racial stars convey this same mes
sage. The warning for women is different from that given men-we are
given messages about the danger ofasserting sexual desire. Clearly the
message from Imitation ofLifewas that attempting to define oneselfas
sexual subject would lead to rejection and abandonment. In the film
CbooseMe, Rae Dawn Chong plays the role of the highly sexual black
woman chaSing and seducing the white man who does not desire her
41. 74 BLACK LOOKS
(as was first implied in Imitation ofLife) but instead uses her sexually,
beats her, then discards her. The bi-racial black woman is constantly
"gaslighted" in contemporary film. The message her sexualized image
conveys does not change even as she continues to chase the white man
as if only he had the power to affirm that she is truly desirable.
European films like Mepbisto and the more recent Mona Lisa also
portray the almostwhite, blackwoman as tragicallysexual. The women
in the films can only respond to constructions oftheir reality created by
the more powerful. They are trapped. Mona Lisa's struggle to be
sexually self-defining leads her to choose lesbianism, even though she
is desired by the white male hero. Yet her choice of a female partner
does not mean sexual fulfillment as the object of her lust is a drug-ad
dicted young white woman who is always too messed up to be sexual.
Mona Lisa nurses and protects her. Rather than asserting sexual agency,
she is once again in the role of mammy.
In a more recent film, The Virgin Machine, a white German
woman obsessed by the longing to understand desire goes to California
where she hopes to find a "paradise of black Amazons." However,
when she arrives and checks out the lesbian scene, the black women
she encounters are portrayed as mean fat grotesques, lewd and licen
tious. Contemporary films continue to place black women in two
categories, mammy or slut, and occaSionally a combination of the two.
In Mona Lisa, one scene serves as powerful commentary on the way
black sexuality is perceived in a racist and imperialist social context.
The white male who desires the black prostitute Mona Lisa is depicted
as a victim ofromantic love who wishes to rescue herfrom a life of ruin.
Yet he is also the conqueror, the colonizer, and this is most evident in
the scene where he watches a video wherein she engages in fellatio
with the black male pimp who torments her. Both the black man and
the black woman are presented as available for the white male's sexual
:onsumption. In the context of postmodern sexual practice, the mas
turbatoryvoyeuristic technologically-basedfulfillment ofdesire is more
~xciting than actually possessing any real Other.
There are few films or television shows that attempt to challenge
assumptions that sexual relationships between blackwomenandwhite
men are not based solely on power relationships which mirror mas
:erlslave paradigms. Years ago, when soap operas first tried to portray
~omantic/sexual involvement between a black woman and a white
nan, the station received so many letters of protest from outraged
liewers that they dropped this plot. Today many viewers are glued to
he television screenwatching the soap opera AllMy Childrenprimarily
Selling Hot Pussy 75
to see if the black woman played by Debbie Morgan will win the white
man she so desperately loves. These two lovers are never portrayed in
bedroom scenes so common now indaytime soaps. Morgan's character
is competing not just with an old white woman flame to get her white
man, she is competing with a notion of family. And the story poses the
question ofwhether white male desire for black flesh will prevail over
commitments to blood and family loyalty.
Despite this plot ofinterracial sexual romance on the soaps, there
is little public discussion ofthe connections betweenrace and sexuality.
In real life, it was the Miss America pageant where a black woman was
chosen to represent beauty and therefore deSirability which forced a
public discussion of race and sex. When it was revealed that Vanessa
Williams, the fair-skinned straightened-hair "beauty," had violated the
representation of the Miss America girl as pure and virtuous by having
posed nude in a series of photographs showing her engaged in sexual
play with a white woman, she lost her crown but gained a different
status. After her public "disgrace," she was able to remain in the
limelight by appropriating the image of sexualized vamp and playing
sexy roles in films. Unmasked by a virtuous white public, she assumed
(according to theirstandards) the rightful erotic place set aside for black
women in the popular imagination. The American public that had so
brutally critiqued Williams and rejected her had no difficulty accepting
and applauding her when she accepted the image of fallen woman.
Again, as in the case ofTina Turner, Williams bid for continued success
necessitated her acceptance of conventional racist/sexist representa
tions of black female sexuality.
The contemporary film that has most attempted to address the
issue of black female sexual agency is Spike Lee's She's Gotta Have It.
Sad to say, the black womaQ does not get "it." By the end of the film,
she is still unable to answer the critical question, posed by one of her
lovers as he rapes her, "whose pussy is this?" Reworded the question
might be: How and when will black females assert sexual agency in
ways thatliberate us from the confines ofcolonizeddesire, ofracist/sex (
ist imagery and practice? Had Nola Darling been able to claim her
sexuality and name its power, the film would have had a very different
impact.
There are few films that explore issues of black female sexuality
in ways that intervene and disrupt conventional representations. The
short film DreamingRivers, by the British black film collective Sankofa,
juxtaposes the idealizedrepresentation ofblack woman as motherwith
that of sexual subject, showing adult children faCing their narrow
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76
notions of black female identity. The film highlights the autonomous
sexual identity of a mature black woman which exists apart from her
role as mother and caregiver. Passion ofRemembrance, another film
by Sankofa, offers exciting new representations of the black female
body and black female sexuality. In one playfully erotic scene, two
young black women, a lesbian couple, get dressed to go out. As part
of their celebratory preparations they dance together, painting their
lips, looking at their images in the mirror, exulting in their black female
bodies. They shake to a song that repeats the refrain "let's get loose"
without conjuring images ofa rotgut colonized sexuality on display for
the racist/sexist imagination. Their pleasure, the film suggests, emerges
in a decolonized erotic context rooted in commitments to feminist and
anti-racist politics. When they look in the mirror and focus on specific
( body parts (their full thick lips and buttocks), the gaze is one1bf
recognition. We see their pleasure and delight in themselves.
Films by AfricanAmerican women filmmakers also offer the most
( oppositional images ofblackfemale sexuality. Seeingfor a second time
Kathleen Collin's film Losing Ground, I was impressed by her daring,
the way she portrays black female sexuality in a way that is fresh and
exciting. Like Passion ofRemembranceit is ina domesticsetting,where
blackwomen face one another (in Collin's fdm-as mother and daugh
ter), that erotic images of black female sexuality surface outside a
context of domination and exploitation. When daughter and mother
share a meal, the audience watches as a radical sexual aesthetics
emerges as the camera moves from woman to woman, fOCUSing on the
shades and textures of their skin, the shapes of their bodies, and the
way their delight and pleasure in themselves is evident in their envi
ronment. Both black women discreetly flaunt a rich sensual erotic
energy that is not directed outward, it is not there to allure or entrap; it
is a powerful declaration of black female sexual subjectivity.
When black women relate to our bodies, our sexuality, in ways
that place erotic recognition, deSire, pleasure, and fulfillment at the
center of our efforts to create radical black female subjectivity, we can
make new and different representations ofourselves as sexual subjects.
To do so we must be willing to transgress traditional boundaries. We
must no longer shy away from the critical project ofopenly interrogat
ing and exploring representations of black female sexuality as they
appear everywhere, especially in popular culture. In The Power ofthe
Image: Essays on Representation and Sexuality, Annette Kuhn offers a
critical manifesto for feminist thinkers who long to explore gender and
representation:
Selling Hot Pussy
...in order to challenge dominant representations, it is necessary
first of all to understand how they work, and thus where to seek
points of possible productive transformation. From such under
standing flow various politics and practices of oppOSitional cul
tural production, among which may be counted feminist
interventions...there is another justification for a feminist analysis
ofmainstream images ofwomen: may it not teach us to recognize
inconsistencies and contradictions within dominant traditions of
representation, to identify points of leverage for our own inter
vention: cracks and fissures through which may be captured
glimpses ofwhat in other circumstance might be possible, visions
of"a world outside the order not normally seen or thought about?"
This is certainly the challenge facing black women, who must confront
the old painful representations of our sexuality as a burden we must
suffer, representations still haunting the present. We must make the
oppositional spacewhere oursexualitycan be named and represented,
where we are sexual subjects-no longer bound and trapped.
43. Chapter 5
A Feminist Challenge
Must We Call EvetyWoman Sister?
Watching the Clarence Thomas hearings was disempowering for
masses ofindividuals, many of us female. While viewers admiredAnita
Hill's courage, daring to name publicly that she had been sexually
harassed by Thomas, it was never clear what Hill intended by her
disclosure. She never really statedan agenda. Didshefeel that Thomas'
willingness to use powercoerdvely, to dominatevia sexual harassment
meant that he was an unworthy candidate for the Supreme Court? Did
she speak out to protest because female subordinates working "under"
Thomas might suffer the same fate were he to gain even more power?
Did she believe that the nation would suffer having a person on the
Supreme Court who lies, manipulates, and deceives? And having
dedded to participate in public hearings, why didn't it occur to Hill (or
heradvisors) thatshe would need to explain, evenjustifyina compelling
and convindng way, why, at her owninitiative, she continued working
relations with Thomas. Though many women viewers felt we under
stood Hill's actions, for any woman to make such charges within the
context ofwhite supremacist capitalist patriarchy, especially a black
woman, if indeed she expected to be taken seriously, there should
have been full recognition that she would need to do more than
simply state her case.
Anita Hill stated her case. She did not appear to have a strategy
that was based on considering the needs, desires, and expectations of
her audience, both that of the Senate committee or the millions of
79
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44. (
4
BLACK LOOKS
80
viewers watching her. While I have talkedwith manywomen ofvarious
races and ethnicities who admired Hill's calmness, her steadfast mono
tone as she gave rational testimony, such admiration need not obscure
the reality that Hill's performance suggests that she brought to the
hearings misguided faith in a system that has rarely worked for women
seeking justice in cases ofsexual harassment. Needless to say, this faith
led her to enter thelion's den without necessary protection. This is not
admirable. Had Anita Hill been an advocate of feminism, mild or
militant, she would have brought to the hearings the kind of feminist
thinking and awareness that would have enabled her to face the reality
thatwhite supremacistpatriarchy had alreadychosenThomas. Itwould
have given her the wisdom to understand that to challenge that choice,
either by creating powerful opposition or by exposing his true chara<ier,
she would need to subvert the system. Subversion requires strategy.
Simply stating the case was not enough. Hill has stated: "I am hopeful
that others who may have suffered sexual harassment will not become
discouraged by my experience but instead will fmd the strength to
speak." Yet the Thomas hearings made it abundantly clear that coming
to voice around sexual harassment is only one stage of a process for
any individual female seeking justice.
While it is crucial that women come to voice in a patriarchal
society that socializes us to repress and contain, it is also crucial what
we say, how we say it, and what our politics are. To see the Thomas
hearings as solely an issue of a female coming to voice in a case of
sexual harassment, as many folks chose to do, is to reduce the com
plexity ofboth the issue ofThomas' appointment to the Supreme Court
and of Hill's relationship to the political system that chose to support
and aff1Ill1 that appointment. Watching these hearings, wewere not just
seeing a black man and a black woman at odds with one another about
sexual harassment. We were watching two conservative black folks
who have shown by their political allegiances that they identify with
mainstream white conservative culture and politics. Both parties sug
gested by theirwillingness to participate inthe public spectacle ofthese
hearings that they believed it was indeed possible for them to gain
recognition, voice, a fair and just hearing within a white supremacist
patriarchal state that has historically, stubbornly refused to hear the
voices of oppressed and marginalized black people seeking justice.
Ironically, Clarence Thomas, whose advisors were evidently far
more astute than the folks working withAnita Hill, did not act as though
he could simply state his case. He clearly strategized. A major moment
of victory occurred when Thomas dropped the mask of rational cool
81
A Feminist Challenge
and expressed anger and rage at the process. His declaration that he
was a victim of a "high~tech lynching" was a shrewd move which not
only deflected away from the victimization ofAnita Hill; it shifted the
nature of the public discourse. Prior to these comments, race had not
beenseenasa primaryfactorshapingthe contentsofthe interrogations.
By'raising the historical specter of lynching, Thomas evoked images
that are bothracial andsexual in nature. Practicallyallthe visual images
that remain of lynchings ofblack males by white mobs show blacks to
be sexually mutilated, usually castrated. Lynching, then, must be seen
as both a racial and sexual crime. In effect, Thomas covertly suggested
that he was being subjected to a form of sexual harassment more
gruesome and brutal than anyverbal harassment could everbe. To use
the vernacular, he was saying, "y'all trying to punish me for using nasty
talk to harasswhenyou tryingto cutoffmy dick."And it is notsurprising
that the specter of castration which haunts white America's racial
imagination should in the context of patriarchy appear to be the more
heinous crime. The white patriarchal members ofthe Senate committee
could empathize with the idea of an endangered phallus. They could
not and did not empathize with the suffering of Anita Hill. Hence,
Thomas' "pain" at being the object ofwhat he strategically implied was
the continuation ofwhite male rape and castration of black males was
seen as far more b.rutal than any pain Hill could possibly have suffered.
Displacing the narrative of male domination and sexual harassment of
females, Thomas placed himself outside the borders of the white
phallocentric culture he had previously been so intimately allied with.
,
Having refused to acknowledge the importance of racial differ
ence and white victimization of black folks in the past, he chose to
identify himselfwith the black men (andwomen) whowere thevictims
of one of the cruelest expressions of white supremacy. His evocation
of lynching echoed the work of Eldridge Cleaver, a self-confessed
sexual harasser and rapist, who, in Soul On Ice, attempted to justifythis
perverse aggressive sexist behavior as a necessary response to
racialized sexual victimization at the hands of white men. Millions of
white and black readers responded with compassion to Cleaver's
insistence that it was white racism that had forced him to become a
rapist. Suggesting that white men were obsessed by their desire
to control black men's bodies, Cleaver wrote in the persona of a
white male speaker:
.. ,the Brain must control the Body. To prove my omnipotence I
must cuckold you and fetter your bull balls. I will fetter the range
ofyour rod and limit its reach. My prick will excel your rod. I bave
45. 82 83
BLACK LOOKS
made a calculation. I will have sexual freedom. But I will bind
your rod with my omnipotent will, and place a limitation on its
aspiration which you will violate on pain ofdeath...By subjecting
your manhood to the control of my will, I shall control you. The
stem of the Body, the penis, must submit to the will of the Brain.
Clarence Thomas' evoked this image of white males controlling
black manhood, and it was most effective. In the popular imagination
ofwhite and black folks alike, he represented the black male standing
up for his right to participate fully in patriarchy, in the culture of the
phallus. He became a heroic symbol ofsexist black male resistance to
being controlled by the white man. As one white male cabdriver said
to me: "So what if he's a harasser and a pornographer. Aren't they all?
Why should he be punishedr After all, Thomas, even in the act of
attempting to sexually coerce a black female, was only acting as white
men have acted with impunity in white racist SOciety. And in choosing
to marry a white female (whose image was always behind his during
the hearing), hewas also expressing his allegiance towhitesupremadst
patriarchy. Hence, Thomas, who had no qualms aboutpublicly naming
his objectification of black females, his preference for light-skinned
women, could join the culture in presenting Anita Hill as just another
"black bitch" scorned and seeking revenge.
In such a context, it is not surprising that Anita Hill became the
object of fierce, sexist interrogation. To many viewers, her calm
demeanor was a sign of her integrity, that she had chosen the high
moral ground. Yet to some of us, it was yet another example of black
female stoidsm in the face ofsexist/racist abuse. While it may not have
changed the outcome of the hearings in any way, had Hill been more
strategic and passionate, and dare I say it, even angry at the assault on
her character, it would have made the hearings less an assault on the
psyches of black females watching and on women viewers in general.
Contrary to those who wish to claim that the hearings were in
some way a feminist Victory, it was precisely the absence of either a
ferri.inist analysis on Hill's part or a feminist response that made this
spectacle more an exampleoffemale martyrdomandvictimizationthan
ofa constructive confrontationwith patriarchal male domination. Black
women have always held an honored place in the hall of female
martyrdom. As Anita Hill's friend Ellen Wells declared in a passionate
defense of Hill not initiating a case against Thomas when the harass
ment first occurred, "Being a black woman, you know you have to put
up with a lot so you grit yourteeth and do it." With this comment, Wells
evoked a tradition of female martyrdom and masochism. There is no
A Feminist Challenge
suggestion on the part of these conservative black women that there is
a place for feminist rebellion and resistance. Indeed, they seemed to be
strong advocates for a position that suggests women have no choice
but to be "dutiful daughters." And certainly, from this standpOint, Hill's
actions appear heroic. Commenting on the hearings, Michele Wallace
suggests that it was "gratifying to see such a display of courage and
dignity on the part of any woman participating in the dominant dis
course." While this may be true, it should not lead to uncritical accep
tance of Hill's or any woman's allegiance to white supremacist
patriarchy. Advocates of feminism should be among those adamantly
stressing that Hill had other options and did not have to act only in the
role ofdutiful daughter. Perhaps, itis her allegiance to that role that not
only made her reluctant to speak in the first place but finally unable to
speak in a manner that would make her case convincing. Unable to
step outside the boundaries of patriarchal discourse, Hill was never
disloyal to patriarchy or, for that matter, to the institution of white
supremacy. Instead she expressed her loyalty conSistently by the man
ner in which she appealed to the system for justice. By appropriating
her as feminist hero, women, and white women in particular, show that
they are more interested in positioning Hill in support of a feminism
that she never espoused.
Anita Hill had every right tojustice in hercase against Clarence
Tbomas. Let's be clear about that fact.· That she deserves justice as a
victim ofsexual harassment does not preclude the possibility that she
may have chosen 'to remain silent about this abuse for reasons other
than victimization. It is possible that both career opportunism and
allegiance to being a dutiful daughter led Hill to feel that she could not
confrontThomas early on. Neither possibilityjustifiesThomas' actions.
However, the decision to publicly name him as a sexual harasser does
not necessarily indicate that Hill is in rebellion against patriarchy and
male domination.
Ultimately, the nature of the hearings suggest that there is still no
place within white supremacist capitalist patriarchy for a discussion of
black gender relations that would enable black women and men to
confrontquestions ofpowerand domination, ofblackmale sexism and
black female resistance. For, to a grave extent, the spectacle of the
Thomas hearings had little to do with any desire on the part of the
American public to determine whether or not Thomas was a worthy
candidate for the Supreme Court or to truthfully examine his coercive
relations withblackfemale subordinates. Theseissueswerecompletely
displaced and subsumed as the hearings became a public occasion for
46. 84 85
BLACK LOOKS
an assault on feminism, a place where those with a right-wing agenda
around sexuality and censorship could press their points. That Anita
Hill's personal political reality was obscured by those who positioned
her as feminist symbol cannot be denied. And it is this positiOning that
allowed manypeople to see the hearings as the death offeminism. The
hearings were an attack on feminism (defined here as a movement to
end sexism and sexist oppression) andan attack on feminist prindples.
As Orlando Patterson stated in his misogynist rant, "Race,
Gender and Liberal Fallacies," published in the op-ed section of the
New York Times:
Thanks to this drama, we have entered an important new phase
in the nation's discourse on gender relations, and it goes well
beyond the enhanced realization by men that the complaints .-m
of women must be taken seriously. Implicit in these hearings
was an overdue questioning of the legalistic, neo-Puritan and
elitist model of gender relations promoted by the dominant
school ofAmerican feminists.
Contrary to Patterson's assertion that the hearings were a "ritual of
inclusion," indicating public affirmation that blacks belong in the sys
tem, that "the culture of slavery is dead," we were witnessing yet
another plantation drama where the labor and bodies of black folks
were made to serve the interests of a system that has no intention of
fostering andpromoting the sodal and politicalgrowth ofblackpeople
or eradicating racism and white supremacy.
Visually, what millions of Americans saw as they watched the
hearings was the representation ofwhite supremacist capitalistpatriar
chy as it truly is. There was no radal or sexual diversity on the
committee, none of that "inclusion" that would indicate shared posi
tions of equality within the existing s9Cial structure, which Patterson
alludes to in his commentary. And it was more than evident, both
visuallyand in terms oftheir demeanor, thatbonds ofwhite supremacy
and maleness transcended differences of political position among the
white male Senate committee members. Those bonds could extend to
and include Clarence Thomas because he so fundamentally allied
himself with the interests ofwhite supremadst capitalist patriarchy.
Recently, white controlled and dominated mass media has con
structed and promoted the fiction that black conservatism is something
new, fostering as well the concomitant assumption that it is not toler
ated in black life. Hence, understanding white folks, both liberal and
conservative alike, must "protect" the "dissident" voices of black
AFeminist Challenge
conservatives from those more commonly radical black voices that
would "censor and silence" them. In reality, black folks have always
known thatmany ofuswereconservativeandall too oftenconservative
political viewpoints have determined the nature ofblack rebellion and
reform. It's white folks who have just recently discovered the militant
black conservative and recognized that he or she can be a powerful
spokesperson for agendas that serve the interest of mainstream white
culture. When journalists suggest, as one did in the October issue of
New York magaZine, that one of the important victories of the hearing
was that "the nation was treated to a parade of blacks who-for
once-weren't crack dealers, athletes, welfare mothers, or any of the
otherstereotypes butsoliddtizens, fine friends, andexcellent character
witnesses for the two prindpals/ it is obvious that the audience that
comprises this "nation"iswhite.Thiscommentconfl1'ffiS that ultimately the
Thomas hearings were not only a public political spectacle orchestrated
by whites but that whites were, indeed, the intended audience. The rest
of us were merely voyeurs.
Many black folks can testify that the Thomas hearings seemed to
have a profound impact on many white Americans. Often fearful of
black people and issues concerning race, the Thomas hearings pro
vided many white folks with an issue that they could talk to black
people about. It was a safe way for them to talk about race and gender.
Before the Thomas hearings, no strange white man had everattempted
to talkwith me about his desire for attractive blackwomen. Yet, several
white men initiated conversations with me on airplanes, in lines at the
bank, in taxicabs where they could share that they identified with
Thomas, that they too found Anita Hill attractive and could see why
Thomas would approach her. As one young white man put it, "He was
only doing what a man does."
A number ofblack females I know have said they have been the
objects of unprecedented assaults both verbal and physical by white
males since the Thomas hearings. Concurrently, the Thomas hearings
exacerbated overall social bashing of black females, and profeSSional
black females in particular. Recently, about to give a lecture at the
UniverSity of Arizona, I spotted a young black female sitting in the
audience and greeted her with warmth and Sisterly regard. At the end
of my lecture she came up and stated that she had not read my work,
that a class aSSignment had compelled her attendance at the talk but
that she was glad she had come because my recognition of her had, as
she put it, "done a lot to restore her faith in black women, a faith that
the Thomas hearings had shaken." She was referring to the many black
47. 86 BLACK LOOKS
women, especially those who were seen on television opposing and
denouncing Hill while supporting Thomas. While the hearings did
not signal the death of feminism, they did dramatize the triumph of
sexist justice.
The hearings were a brutal reminder to advocates offeminism
to all of us who are concerned with progressive agendas-that
conservative politics will rule the day if there is not sufficient protest,
subversion, and rebellion. Manygroups, includingfeminiSts, havebeen
galvanized to action by the hearings. Progressives can only hope that
the spirit ofrebellion and resistance will not be transitory but will serve
to foster a climate of critical vigilance and radical action that will once
again make the transfonnation of this culture into a truly democratic
and just society a meaningful agenda, a cause worth struggling for.
Chapter 6
Reconstructing Black Masculinity
Black and white snapshots of my childhood always show me in
the company ofmy brother. Less than a year older than me, we looked
like twins and for a time in life we did everything together. We were
inseparable. As young children, we were brother and sister, comrades,
in it together. As adolescents, he was forced to become a boy and I was
forced to become a girl. In our southern black Baptistpatriarchal home,
being a boy meant learning to be tough, to mask one'sfeelings. to stand
one'sground and fight-being a girl meant learning to obey, tobe quiet,
to clean, to recognize that you had no ground to stand on. I was tough,
he was not. I was strong willed, he was easygoing. We were both a
disappointment. Affectionate, full of good humor, loving. my brother
was not at all interested in becoming a patriarchal boy. This lack of
interest generated a fierce anger in our father.
We grew up staring at black and white photos of our father in a
boxing ring. playing basketball, with the black infantry he was part of
in World War II. He was a man in uniform, a man's man, able to hold
his own. Despising his one son for not wanting to become the strong
silent type (my brother loved to talk, tell jokes, and make us happy),
our father let him know early on that he was no son to him, real sons
wanted to be like their fathers. Made to feel inadequate, less than male
inhis childhood, oneboyina housefull ofsixsisters, hebecameforever
haunted by the idea of patriarchal masculinity. All that he had ques
tioned in his childhood was sought after in his early adult life in order
to become a man's man-phallocentric, patriarchal, and masculine. In
traditional black communities when one tells a grown male to "be a
87
48. 88 89
BLACK LOOKS
man," one is urging him to aspire to a masculine identity rooted in the
patriarchal ideal. Throughout black male history in the United States
there have been black men who were not at all interested in the
patriarchal ideal. In the black community of my childhood, there was
no monolithic standard of black maSCUlinity. Though the patriarchal
ideal was the most esteemed version of manhood, it was not the only
version. No one in our house talked about black men being no good,
shiftless, trifling. Head of the household, our father was a "much
man,» a prOvider, lover, disciplinarian, reader, and thinker. He was
introverted, quiet, and slow to anger, yet fierce when aroused. We
respected him. We were in awe of him. We were afraid of his power,
his physical prowess, his deep voice, and his rare. unpredictable but
intense rage. We were never allowed to forget that, unlike other black
men, our father was the fulfillment of the patriarchal masculine ideai.
Though I admired my father, I was more fascinated and charmed
by black men who were not obsessed with being patriarchs: by Felix,
a hobo who jumped trains, never worked a regular job, and had a
missing thumb; by Kid, who lived out in the country and hunted the
rabbits and coons that came to our table; by Daddy Gus, who spoke in
hushed tones, sharing his sense ofspiritual mysticism. These were the
men who touched my heart. The list could go on. I remember them
because they loved folks, especially women and children. They were
caring and giving. They were black men who chose alternative life
styles, who questioned the status quo, who shunned a ready made
patriarchal identityand invented themselves. By knowing them, I have
never been tempted to ignore the complexityofblack male experience
and identity. The generosity ofspirit that characterized who they were
and how they livedin theworld lingers in my memory. Iwrite this piece
to honor them, knowing as I do now that it was no simple matter for
them to choose against patriarchy, to choose themselves, their lives.
And I write this piece for my brother in hopes that he will recover one
day, come back to himself, know again the way to love, the peace of
an unviolated free spirit. It was this peace that the quest for an unat
tainable life-threatening patriarchal masculineideal took from him.
When I left our segregated southern black community and went
to a predominatelywhite college, the teachers and students Imet knew
nothing about the lives of black men. Learning about the matriarchy
myth and white culture's notion that black men were emasculated, I
was shocked. These theories did not speak to the world I had most
intimately known, did not address the complex gender roles that were
so familiar to me. Much of the scholarlywork on black maSCUlinity that
Reconstructing Black Masculinity
was presented in the classroom then was based on material gleaned
from studies of urban black life. This work conveyed the message that
black masculinity was homogenous. It suggested that all black men
were tormented by their inability to fulfill the phallocentric masculine
idealas ithasbeenarticulatedinwhitesupremadstcapitalistpatriarchy.
Erasing the realities of black men who have diverse understandings of
masculinity, scholarship on the black family (traditionally the frame
work for academic discussion ofblack masculinity) puts in place ofthis
lived complexity a flat, one-dimensional representation.
The portrait of black masculinity that emerges in this work per
petually constructs black men as "failures" who are psychologically
"fucked up," dangerous, Violent, sex maniacs whose insanity is
informedby theirinabilityto fulfJll theirphallocentricmasculine destiny
in a racist context. Much of this literature is written by white people,
and some of it by a few acade.mic black men. It does not interrogate
the conventionalconstructionofpatriarchalmasculinityorquestion the
extent to which black men have historically'internalized this norm. It
never assumes the existence of black men whose creative agency has
enabled them to subvert norms and develop ways of thinking about
masculinity that challenge patriarchy. Yet, there has never been a time
in the history of the United States when black folks, particularly black
men, have not been enraged by the dominant culture's stereotypical,
fantastical representations of black masculinity. Unfortunately, black
people have not systematically challenged these narrow visions, insisting
on a more accurate "reading" ofblack male reality. Acting incomplicity
with the status quo, many black people have paSSively absorbed
narrow representations of black masculinity, perpetuated stereotypes,
myths, and offered one-climensional accounts. Contemporary black
men have been shaped by these representations.
No one hasyetendeavoredto chartthe journeyofblack menfrom
Africa to the so called "new world" with the intent to reconstruct how
they saw themselves. Surely the black men who came to the American
continentbeforeColumbus, saw themselves differentlyfrom those who
were brought on slave ships, orfrom those few who freely immigrated
to a world where the majority of their brethren were enslaved. Given
all that we know of the slave context, it is unlikely that enslaved black
men spoke the same language, or that they bonded on the basis of
shared "male" identity. Even if they had come from cultures where
genderdifference was clearlyarticulatedin relation tospecificroles that
was all disrupted in the "new world" context Transplanted African
men, even those who were coming from cultures where sex roles
49. 90 91
BlACK LOOKS
shaped the division of labor, where the status of men was different and
most often higher than that offemales, had imposed on them the white
colonizer's notions of manhood and masculinity. Black men did not
respond to this imposition passively. Yet it is evidentinblack male slave
narratives that black men engaged in racial upliftwere often most likely
to accept the norms of masculinity set by white culture.
Although the gendered politics of slavery denied black men the
freedom to act as "men" within the definition set by white norms, this
notion ofmanhood did become a standard used to measure black male
progress. Slave narratives document ways black men thought about
manhood. The narratives ofHenry "Box" Brown,Josiah Henson, Fred
erick Douglass, and a host of other black men reveal that they saw
"freedom" as that change in status that would enable them to fulfill the
role ofchivalric benevolent patriarch. Free, theywould be men able to
provide for and take care of their families. Describing how he wept as
he watched a white slave overseer beat his mother, William Wells
Brown lamented, "Experience has taught me that nothing can be more
heart-rending than for one to see a dear and beloved mother or sister
tortured, and to hear their cries and not be able to render them
assistance. But such is the position which an American slave occupies."
Frederick Douglass did not feel his manhood affirmed by intellectual
progress. It was affirmed when he fought man to man with the slave
overseer. This struggle was a "turning point" in Douglass' life: "It
rekindled in my breast the smoldering embers of liberty. It brought up
my Baltimore dreams and revived a sense of my own manhood. I was
a changed being after that fight. I was nothing before-I was a man
now." The image of black masculinity that emerges from slave narra
tives is one ofhardworking men who longed to assume full patriarchal
responsibility for families and kin.
Given this aspiration and the ongoing brute physical labor of
blackmen that was the backbone of slave economy (there were more
male slaves than black'female slaves, particularly before breeding
became a common practice), it is really amazing that stereotypes of
black men as lazy and shiftless so quickly became common in public
imagination. In these 19thandearly 20th-centuryrepresentations, black
menwere cartoon-like creatures only interested in drinking and having
a good time. Such stereotypes were an effective way for white racists
to erase the significanceofblack male labor from public consciousness.
Later on, these same stereotypes were evoked as reasons to deny black
men jobs. They are still evoked today.
Reconstructing Black Masculinity
Male "idleness" did not have the same significance in African and
Native American cultures that it had in the white mindset. Many 19th
century Christians sawall forms of idle activity as evil, or at least a
breeding ground for wrong-dOing. For Native Americans and Africans,
idle time was space for reverie and contemplation. When slavery
ended, black men could once again experience that sense of space.
There are no studies which explore the way Native American cultures
altered notions of black masculinity, especially for those black men
who livedas Indians orwho married Indianwives. Since weknowthere
were many tribes who conceived of masculine roles in ways that were
quite different from those of whites, black men may well have found
African ideas aboUt gender roles affirmed in Native traditions.
There are aiso few confessional narratives by black men that
chronicle how they felt as a group when freedom did not bring with it
the opportunity for them to assume a "patriarchal" role. Those black
men who worked as farmers were often better able to assume this role
than those who worked as servants or who moved to dties. Certainly,
in the mass migration from the rural south to the urban north, black
men lost status. In southern black communities there were many
avenues for obtaining communal respect. A man was not respected
solely because he could work, make money, and provide. The extent
to which a given black man absorbed white society'S notion of man
hood likely determined the extent of his bitterness and despair that
white supremacycontinuallyblocked his access to the patriarchalideal.
Nineteenth century black leaders were concerned about gender
roles. While theybelieved that men shouldassume leadership pOSitions
in the home and public life, they were also concerned about the role
of black women in racial uplift. Whether they were merely paying
lip-service to the cause of women's rights or were true believers,
exceptional individual black men advocated equal rights for black
women. In his work, Martin Delaney continually stressed that both
genders needed to work in the interest of racial uplift. To him, gender
equality was more a way to have greater involvement in racial uplift
than a wayfor blackwomen to be autonomous and independent. Black
male leaders like Martin Delaney and Fred~rick Douglass were patri
archs, butasbenevolent dictators theywere willing to share powerwith
women, especially if it meant they did not have to surrender any male
privilege. As co-editors of the North Star, Douglass and Delaney had a
masthead in 1847which read "right is of no sex-truth is of no color..."
The 1848 meeting of the National Negro Convention included a pro
posal by Delaney stating: "Whereas we fully believe in the equality of
50. 92
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the sexes, therefore, resolved that we hereby invite females hereafter
to take part in our deliberation." In Oelaney's 1852 treatise The Condi
tion, Elevation, Emigration, and Destiny ojthe Colored People ojthe
United States, Politically Considered, he argued that black women
should have full access to education so that they could be better
mothers, asserting:
The potency and respectability of a nation or people, depends
entirely upon the position of their women; therefore, it Is
essential to ourelevation that the female portion ofourchildren
be instructed in all the arts and sciences pertaining to the
highest Civilization.
In Oelaney's mind, equal rights for black women in certain A1'lblic
spheres such as education did not mean that he was advocating a
change in domestic relations whereby black men and women would
have co-equal status in the home.
Most 19th-century black men were not advocating equal rights
for women. On one hand, most black men recognized the powerful
and necessary role black women had played as freedom fighters in the
movement to abolish slavery and other dvil rights efforts, yet on the
other hand they continued to believe that women should be subordi
nate to men. They wanted black women to conform to the gender
norms set by white SOCiety. Theywanted to be recognized as "men," as
patriarchs, by other men, including white men. Yet they could not
assume this position if black women were not willing to conform to
prevailing sexist gender norms. Many black women who had endured
white supremacist patriarchal dOmination duririg slavery did not want
to be dominated byblack men after manumission. Like blackmen, they
had contradictory pOSitions on gender. On one hand they did not want
to be "dOminated," but on the other hand they wanted black men to be
protectors and providers. After slavery ended, enormous tension and
conflict emerged between black women and men as folks struggled to
be self-determining. As they worked to create standards for community
and family life, gender roles continued to be problematic.
Black men and women who wanted to conform to gender role
norms found that this was nearly impossible in a white racist economy
that wanted to continue its explOitation of black labor. Much is made,
by social critics who want to further the notion that black men are
symbolically castrated, of the fact that black women often found work
in service jobs while black men were unemployed. The reality, how
ever, was that in some homes it was problematicwhen a black woman
Reconstructing Black Masculinity
worked and the man did not, or when she earned more than he, yet,
in other homes, black men were quite content to construct alternative
roles. Critics who look at black life from a sexist standpoint advance
the assumption that black men were psychologically devastated
because they did not have the opportunity to slave away in low paying
jobs for white racist employers when the truth may very well be that
those black men who wanted to work but could not find jobs, as well
as those who.did not want to find jobs, may simply have felt relieved
that they did not have to submit to economic exploitation. Concurrently,
there were blackwomen who wanted black men to assume patriarchal
roles and there were some who were content to be autonomous,
independent. And long before contemporaryfeminist movementsanc
tioned the idea that men could remain home and rear children while
women worked, black women and men had such arrangements and
were happy with them.
Without implying that black women and men lived in gender
utopia, I am suggesting that black sex roles, and particularly the role of
men, have been more complex and problematized in black life than is
beUeved. This was especially the case when all black people lived in
segregated neighborhoods. Racial integration has had a profound
impact on black gender roles. It has helped to promote a climate
wherein most black women and men accept sexist notions of gender
roles. Unfortunately, many changes have occurred in the way black
people think about gender, yet the shiftfrom one standpOint to another
has not been fully documented. For example: To what extent did the
civil rights movement, with its definition of freedom as having equal
opportunity with whites, sanction looking at white gender roles as a
norm black people should imitate?Why has there been so little positive
interest shown in the alternative lifestyles of black men? In every
segregated black community in the United States there are adult black
men married, unmarried, gay, straight, livingin households where they
do not assert patriarchal domination and yet live fulfilled lives, where
they are not sitting around worried about castration. Again it must be
emphasized that the black men who are most worried about castration
and emasculation are those who have completely absorbed white
supremacist patriarchal definitions of masculinity.
Advanced capitalism further changed the nature of gender roles
for all men in the United States. The image of the patriarchal head of
the household, ruler of this mini-state called the "family," faded in the
20th century. More men than ever before worked for someone else.
The state began to interfere more in domestic matters. Aman's time was
51. 94 95
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not his own; it belonged to his employer, and the terms of his rule in
the family were altered. In the old days, a man who had no money
could still assert tyrannic rule over family and kin, by virtue of his
patriarchal status, usually affirmed by Christian belief systems. Within
a burgeoning capitalist economy, it was wage-earning power that
determined the extent to which a man would rule over a household,
and even that rule was limited by the powerofthe state. In White Hero,
BlackBeast, PaulHochdescribes theway inwhichadvanced capitalism
altered representations ofmasculinity:
The concept of masculinity is dependent at its very root on the
concepts of sexual repression and private property. Ironically, it
is sexual repression and economic scardty that give masculinity
its main significance as a symbol of economic status and sexual
opportunity. The shrinkage of the concept of man into the nar
rowed and hierarchical conceptions ofmasculinity of the various
work and consumption ethics also goes hand in hand with an
increasing social division oflabor, and an increaSing shrinkage of
the body's erogenous potentials culminating in a narrow genital
sexuality. As we move from the simpler food-gathering societies
to the agricultural SOCiety to the urbanized work and warfare
SOCiety, we notice that it is a narrower and narrower range of
activities that yield masculine status.
In feminist terms, this can be described as a shift from emphasis on
patriarchal status (determined by one's capacity to assert power over
others iri a number of spheres based on maleness) to a phallocentric
model, where what the male does with his penis becomes a greaterand
certainly a more accessible way to assert masculine status. It is easy to
see how this served the interests ofa capitalist state which was indeed
depriving men of their rights, exploiting their labor in such a way that
they only indirectly received the benefits, to deflect away from a
patriarchal power based on ruling others and to emphasize a masculine
status that would depend solely on the penis.
With the emergence of a fierce phallocentrism, a man was no
longer a man because he provided care for his family, he was a man
simplybecause he had a penis. Furthermore, his ability to use thatpenis
in the arena ofsexual conquest could bring him as much status as being
a wage earner and provider. Asexually defined masculine ideal rooted
in physical domination and sexual possession of women could be
accessible to all men. Hence, even unemployed black men could gain
status, could be seen as the embodiment of masculinity, within a
phallocentric framework. Barbara Ehrenreich's The Hearts of Men
Reconstructing Black Masculinity
chronicles white male repudiation of a masculine ideal rooted in a
notion of patriarchal rule requiring a man to marry and care for the
material well-being ofwomen and children and an increasing embrace
of a phallocentric "playboy" ideaL At the end of the chapter "Early
Rebels," Ehrenreich describes rites of passage in the 1950s which led
white men away from traditional nonconformity into a rethinking of
masculine status:
...not every would-be male rebel had the intellectual reserves to
gray gracefully with the passage of the decade. They drank
beyond excess, titrating gin with coffee in their lunch hours, gin
with Alka-Seltzer on the weekends. They had stealthy affairs with
secretaries, and tried to feel up their neighbors' wives at parties.
They escaped into Mickey Spillane mysteries, where naked
blondes were routinely perforated in a hail of bullets, or into
Westerns, where there were no women at all and no visible
sources of white-collar employment. And some ofthem began to
discover an alternative, or at least an entirely new style of male
rebel who hinted, seductively, that there was an alternative. The
new rebel was the playboy.
Even in the restricted social relatiofts ofslaveryblack men had found a
way to practice the fine art of phallocentric seduction. Long before
white men stumbled upon the "playboy" alternative, black vernacular
culture told stories about that non-working man withtime on his hands
who might be seducing somebody else's woman. Blues songs narrate
the "playboy" role. Ehrenreich's book a<::k.nowledges that the presence
of black men in segregated black culture and their engagement in
varied expressiofts of masculinity influenced white men:
The Beat hero, the male rebel who actually walks away from
responsibilityin anyform, wasnot a productofmiddle-class angst.
The possibility of walking out, without money or guilt, and
without ambition other than to see and do everything, was not
even imminent in the middle-classcultureofthe earlyfifties... The
new bohemianism of the Beats came from somewhere else
entirely, from an underworld and an underclass invisible from the
corporate "crystal palacen
or suburban dream houses.
Alternativemalelifestylesthat opposed the statusquowere to be found
in black culture.
Whitemenseekingalternativesto apatriarchalmasculinityturned
to black men, particularly black musicians. Norman Podhoretz's 1963
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essay "My Negro Problem-And Ours" names white male fascination
with blackness, and black masculinity:
Just as in childhood Ienvied Negroes for what seemed to me their
superior masculinity, so I envy them today for what seems to be
their superior physical grace and beauty. I have come to value
physical grace very highly and I am now capable of aching with
all my being when I watch a Negro couple 00 the dance floor, or
a Negro playing baseball or basketball. They are on the kind of
terms with their own bodies that I should like to be on with mine,
and for that precious quality they seem blessed to me.
Black masculinity, as fantasized in the racist whiteimagination, is the
quintessential embodimentofman as "outsider"and "rebel." Theywere
the ultimate "traveling men" drifting from place to place, town to to~n,
job to job.
Within segregated black communities, the "traveling" black man
was admired even as he was seen as an indictment of the failure of
black men to achieve the patriarchal masculine ideal. Extolling the
virtues of traveling black men in her novels, Toni Morrison sees them
as "truly masculine in the sense of going out so far where you're not
supposed to go and running toward confrontations rather than away
from them." This is a man who takes risks, what Morrison calls a "free
man":
This is a man who is stretching, you know, he's stretching, he's
going all the way within his own mind and within whatever his
outline might be. Now that's the tremendous possibility for mas
culinity among black men. And you see it a lot. ~.They may end
up in sort of twentieth<entury, contemporary terms being also
unemployed. They may be in prison. They may be doing all sorts
of things. But they are adventuresome in that regard.
Within white supremacist capitalist patriarchy, rebel black masculinity
has been idolized and punished, romanticized yet vilified. Though the
traveling man repudiates being a patriarchal prOvider, he does not
necessarily repudiate male domination.
Collectively, black men have never critiqued the dominant culture's
norms of masculine identity, even though they have reworked those
norms to suittheirsocial situation. Black malesociologistRobert Staples
argues that the black male is "in conflict with the normative definition
of masculinity," yet this conflict has never assumed the form of com
plete rebellion. Assuming that black men are "crippled emotionally"
Reconstructing Black Masculinity
when they cannot fully achieve the patriarchal ideal, Staples asserts:
"This is a status which few, if any, black males have been able to
achieve. Masculinity, as defined in this culture, has always implied a
certain autonomy and mastery of one's environment." Though Staples
suggests, "the black male has always had to confront the contradiction
between the normative expectation attached to being male in this
society and proscriptions on his behavior and achievement of goals,"
impliCit in his analysis is the assumption that black men could only
internalize this norm and be victimized by it. Like many black men, he
assumes that patriarchy and male domination is not a socially con
structed social order but a "natural" fact of life. He therefore cannot
acknowledge that black men could have asserted meaningful agency
by repudiating the norms white culture was imposing.
These norms could not be repudiated by black men who saw
nothing problematic or wrong minded about them. Staples, like most
black male scholars writing about black masculinity, does not attempt
to deconstruct normative thinking, he laments that black men have not
had full access to patriarchal phallocentrism. Embracing the phallocent
ric ideal, he explains black male rape of women by seeing it as a
reaction against their inability to be "real men" (i.e., assert legitimate
domination over women). Explaining rape, Staples argues:
In the case ofblack men, it is asserted that they grow up feeling
emasculated and powerless before reaching manhood. They
often encounter women as authority figures and teachers or as
the head of their household. These men consequently act out
their feelings of powerlessness against black women in the
form of sexual aggression. Hence, rape by black men should
be viewed as both an aggressive and political act because it
occurs in the context ofracial discrimination which denies most
black men a satisfying manhood.
Staples does not question why black women are the targets of black
male aggression if it is white men and a white racist system which
prevents them from assuming the "patriarchal" role. Given that many
white men who fully achieve normal masculinity rape, his implied
argument that black men would not rape if they could be patriarchs
seems ludicrous. And his suggestion that they would not rape if they
couldachieve a "satisfyingmanhood" is purefantasy. Given the context
of this paragraph, it is safe to assume that the "satisfying manhood" he
evokes carries with it the phallocentric right of men to dominate
women, however benevolently. Ultimately, he is suggesting that if
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black men could legitimately dominate women more effectively they
would not need to coerce them outside the law. Growing up in a black
community where there were individual black men who critiqued
normative masculinity, who repudiated patriarchy and its concomitant
support of sexism, I fully appreciate that it is a tremendous loss that
there is little known of their ideas about black masculinity. Without
documentation of their presence, it has been easierfor black men who
embrace patriarchal masculinity, phallocentrism, and sexism to act as
thoughtheyspeakfor allblackmen. Sincetheirrepresentations ofblack
masculinity are in completeagreementwithwhiteculture'sassessment,
they do not threaten or challenge white domination, they reinscribe it.
Contemporary black power movement made synonymous black
liberation and the effort to create a social structure wherein black men
could assert themselves as patriarchs, controlling community, family, .
and kin. On one hand, black men expressed contempt for white men
yet they also envied them their access to patriarchal power. Using a
"phallocentric" stick to beat white men, Amiri Baraka asserted in his
1960s essay "american sexual reference: black male":
Most American white men are trained to be fags. For this reason
it is no wonder that their faces are weak and blank, left without
the hurt that reality makes-anytime. That red flush, those silk
blue faggot eyes...They are the 'masters' of the world, and their
children are taught this as God's fmgerprint, so they can devote
most of their energies to the nonrealistic, having no use for the
real. They devote their energies to the nonphYSical, the nonreal
istic, and become estranged from them. Even their wars move to
the stage where whole populations can be destroyed by pushing
a button...can you, for asecond imagine the average middle class
white man able to do somebody harm? Alone? Without the tech
nology that at this moment still has him rule the world: Do you
understand the softness of the white man, the weakness...
This attack on white masculinity, and others like it, did not mean that
black men were attacking normative masculinity, they were simply
pointing out that white men had not fulfilled the ideaL It was a case of
"will the real man please stand up." And when he stood up, he was, in
the eyes of black power movement, a black male.
This phallocentric idealization of masculinity is most powerfully
expressed in the writings of George Jackson. Throughout Soledad
Brother, he announces his uncritical acceptance of patriarchal norms,
especially the use of violence as a means of social controL Critical of
nonviolence as a stance that would un-man black males, he insisted:
Reconstructing :alack Masculinity
The symbol of the male here in North American has always
been the gun, the knife, the club. Violence is extolled at every
exchange: the TV, the motion pictures, the best-seller lists. The
newspapers that sell best are those that carry the boldest,
bloodiest headlines and most sports coverage. To die for king
and country is to die a hero.
Jackson felt black males would need to embrace this use of violence if
they hoped to defeat white adversaries. And he is particularly critical
of black women for not embracing these notions of masculinity:
I am reasonably certain that I draw from every black male in this
country some comments to substantiate that his mother, the black
female, attempted to aid his survival by discouraging his violence
or by turning it inward. The blacks of slave society, U.S.A., have
always been a matriarchal subsociety. The implication is clear,
black mama is going to have to put a sword in that brother's hand
and stop that "be a good boy· shit.
Afrighteningly fierce misogyny informsJ<Jckson's rage at black women,
particularly his mother. Even though he was compelled by black
women activists and comrades to reconsider his position on gender,
particularly by Angela Davis, his later work, Blood In My Eye,
continues to see black liberation as a "male thing," to see revolution
as a task for men:
At the end of this massive collective struggle, we will uncover a
new man, the unpredictable culmination of the revolutionary
process. He will be better equipped to wage the real struggle, the
permanentstruggle afterthe revolution-the one for new relation
ships between men.
Although the attitudes expressed by Baraka and Jackson appear
dated, they have retained their ideological currency among black men
through time. Black female critiques of black male phallocentrism and
se~m have had little impact on black male consciousness. Michele
Wallace's BlackMacho and the Myth ofthe SuperWoman was the first
major attempt by a black woman to speak from a feminist standpoint
about black male sexism. Her analysis ofblack masculinity was based
primarily on her'experience in the urban northern cities, yet she wrote
as ifshe were speaking comprehensively about collective black expe
rience. Evenso, her critiquewas daring and courageous. However, like
54. 100 101
BLACK LOOKS
other critics she evoked a monolithic homogenous representation ~f.
black masculinity. Discussing the way black male sexism took prece
dence over radal solidarity during Shirley Chisolm's presidential cam
paign, Wallace wrote:
The black political forces in existence at the time-in other
words, the black male political forces-did not support her. In
fact, they actively opposed her nomination. The black man in
the street seemed either outraged that she dared to run or
simply indifferent.
Ever since then it has really baffled me to hear black men
say that black women have no time for feminism because being
black comes first. For them, when it came to Shirley Chisholm,
being black no longer came first at alL It turned out that what
they really meant all along was that the black man came before 1!.
the black woman.
Chisholm documented in her autobiography that sexism stood in
her way more than racism. ,Yet she also talks about the support she
received from her father and her husband for her political work.
Commenting on the way individuals tried to denigrate this support by
hinting that there was something wrong with her husband, Chisholm
wrote: "Thoughtless people have suggested that my husband would
have to be a weak man who enjoys having me dominate him. They are
wrong on both counts." Though fiercely critical of sexism in general
and black male sexism in particular, Chisholm acknowledged the
support she had received from black men who were not advancing
patriarchy. Any critique of "black macho," of black male sexism, that
does not acknowledge the actions of black men who subvert and
challenge the status quocan not be an effective critical intervention. If .
feminist critics ignore the efforts of individual black men to oppose
sexism, our critiques seem to be self-serving, appear to be anti-male
rather than anti-sexist. Absolutist portraits that imply that all black men
are irredeemably seXist, inherently supportive of male domination,
make it appear that there is no way to change this, no alternative, no
other way to be. When attention is focused on those black men who
oppose sexism, who are disloyal to patriarchy, even if they are excep
tions, the possibility for change, for resistance is affl1llled. Those
representations ofblack gender relationships that perpetually pit black
women and men against one another deny the complexity of our
experiencesand intensifymutuallydestructiveintemednegenderconflict.
More than ten years have passed since Michele Wallace encour
aged black folks to take genderconflictas a force thatwas undermining
Reconstructing Black Masculinity
oursolidarity and creating tension. Without biting her tongue, Wallace
emphatically stated:
I amsaying, among otherthings, that for perhapsthe last fifty years
there has been a growing distrust, even hatred, between black
men and black women. It has been nursed along not only by
racism on the part of whites but also by an almost deliberate
ignorance on the part of blacks about the sexual polities of their
experience in this country.
The tensions Wallace describes between black women and men have
not abated, ifanything they have worsened. In more recent years they
have taken the public form of black women and men competing for
the attentionofa white audience. Whetherit be the realm ofjobhunting
orbook publishing, there is a prevailingsensewithinwhitesupremadst
capitalist patriarchy that black men and women cannot both be in the
dominant culture's limelight. While it obviously serves the interests of
white supremacy for black women and men to be divided from one
another, perpetually in conflict, there is no overall gain for black men
and women. Sadly, black people collectively refuse to take seriously
issues ofgender that would undermine the support for male domina
tion in black communities.
Since the 1960s black power movement hadworked over-time to
let sisters know that they should assume a subordinate role to lay the
groundwork for an emergent black patriarchy that would elevate the
status of black males, women's liberation movement has been seen as
a threat. Consequently, blackwomenwereandare encouraged to think
that anyinvolvementwithfeminism was/is tantamountto betrayingthe
race. Such thinking has not really alteredovertime. It has become more
entrenched. Black people responded with rage and anger to Wallace's
book, charging that she was a puppet of white feminists who were
motivated byvengeful hatredofblack men, but they never argued that
her assessment of black male sexism was false. They critiqued her
harshly because theysincerely believed that sexismwas not a problem
in black life and that black female support of black patriarchy and
ph.~.llocentrism might heal the wounds inflicted by radst domination.
As long as black people foolishly cling to the rather politically naive
and dangerous assumption that it is in the interests of black liberation
to support sexism and male domination, all our efforts to decolonize
our minds and transform society will faiL
Perhaps black folks cling to the fantasy that phallocentrism and
patriarchy will provide a way out of the havoc and wreckage wreaked
55. 102 103
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by racist genocidal assault because it is an analysis of our current
political situation that places a large measure ofthe blame on the black
community, the blackfamily, and, most specifically, black women. This
way of thinking means that black people do not have to envision
creative strategies for confronting and resisting white supremacy and
internalized racism. Tragically, internecine gender conflict between
black women and men strengthens white supremacist capitalist patri
archy. Politically behind the times where gender is concerned, many
black people lack the skills to function in a changed and changing
world. They remain unable to grapple with a contemporary reality
where male domination is consistently challenged and under siege.
Primarily it is white male advocates of feminist politics who do the
scholarly work that shows the crippling impact of contemporary patri
archy on men, particularly those groups of men who do not receive
maximum benefit from this system. Writing about the way patriarchal
masculinity undermines the ability of males to construct self and iden
titywith theirwell-being in mind, creatinga life-threatening mascLllinist
sensibility, these works rarely discuss black men.
Most black men remain in a state ofdenial, refusing to acknowledge
the pain in their lives that is caused by sexist thinking and patriarchal,
phallocentric violence that is not only expressed by male domination
over women but also by internecine conflict among black men. Black
people must question why it is that, as white culture has responded to
changing gender roles and feminist movement, they have turned to
black culture and particularly to black men for articulations of misog
yny, sexism, and phallocentrism. In popularculture, representations of
black masculinity equate it with brute phallocentrism, woman-hating,
a pugilistic "rapist" sexuality, and flagrant disregard for individual
rights. Unlike the young George Jackson who, however wrong
minded, cultivated a patriarchal masculinist ethic in the interest of
providing black males with a revolutionary political consciousness and
a will to resist race and class domination, contemporary young black
males espousing a masculinist ethic are not radicalized or insightful
about the collective future ofblack people. Publicfigures such as Eddie
Murphy, Arsenio Hall, Chuck D., Spike Lee, and a host of other black
males blindly exploit the commodification of blackness and the
concomitant exotification of phallocentfic black masCUlinity.
When Eddie Murphy's rum Raw (which remains one of the most
graphic spectacles of black male phallocentrism) was first shown in
urban cities, young black men in the audience gave black power
salutes. This fum not only did not address the struggle of black people
Reconstructing Black Masculinity
to resist racism, Murphy's evocation of homosocial bonding with rich
white men against "threatening" women who want to take theirmoney
conveyed his conservative politics. Raw celebrates a pugilistic eroti
cism, the logic of which tells young men that women do not want to
hear declarations of love but want to be "fucked to death." Women are
represented strictly in misogynist terms--they are evil; they are all
prostitutes who see their sexuality solely as a commodity to be
exchanged for hard cash, and after the man has delivered the goods
they betray him. Is this the "satisfying masculinity" black men desire or
does it expose a warped and limited vision of sexuality, one that could
not possibly offer fulfillment or sexual healing? As phallocentric spec
tacle, Raw announces that black men are controlled by their penises
("it's a dick thing") and asserts a sexual politiC that is fundamentally
anti-body.
Ifthe black male cannot "trust" his body not to be the agent ofhis
victimization, how can he trust a female body? Indeed, the female body,
along with the female person, is constructed in Raw as threatening to
the male who seeks autonomous self-hood since it is her presence that
awakens phallocentric response. Hence her personhood must be
erased; she must be like the phallus, a "thing." Commenting on the
self-deception thattakes placewhen men convince themselves andone
another that women are not persons, in her essay on patriarchal
phallocentrism "The ProblemThat Has No Name,» Marilyn Frye asserts:
The rejection of females by phallists is both morally and concep
tually profound. The refusal to perceive females as persons is
conceptually profound because it excludes females from that
community whose conceptions of things one allows to influence
one's concepts-it serves as a police lock on a closed mind.
Furthermore, the refusal to treat women with the respect due to
persons is in itself a violation of a moral principle that seems to
many to be the founding principle of all morality. This violation
of moral principle is sustained by an active manipulation of
circumstances that is systematic and habitual and unac
knowledged. The exclusion ofwomen from the conceptual com
munity Simultaneouslyexcludes them from the moral community.
Black male phallocentrism constructs a portrait ofwoman as immoral,
simultaneouslysuggesting that sheis irrationalandincapableofreason.
Therefore, there is no need for black men to listen to women or to
assume that women have knowledge to share.
It is this representation ofwomanhood that is graphically evoked
in Murphy's rum Harlem Nights. A dramatization ofblack male patriar
56. 104 105
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chal fantasies, this mm reinvents the history of Harlem so that black
men do not appear as cowards unable to confront racist white males
butare reinscribed as tough, violent; they talkshitand take none. Again,
the GeorgeJackson revolutionary political paradigm is displaced in the
realm of the cultural. In this fantasy, black men are as able and willing
to assert power "by any means necessary" as are white men. They are
shown as having the same desires as white men; they long for wealth,
power to dOminate others, freedom to kill with impunity, autonomy,
and the right to sexually possess women. They embrace notions of
hierarchal rule. The mostpowerful black manin the ftlm, Quick(played
by Murphy), always submits to the will ofhis father. In this worldwhere
homosocial black male bonding is glorified and celebrated, black
women are sex objects. The only woman who is not a sex object is the
post~menopausal mama/matriarch. She is dethroned so that Quick i:!an
assert his power, even though he later (again submitting to the father's
will) asks herforgiveness. Harlem Nightsis a sadfantasy, romantiCizing
a world ofmisogynist homosocial bondingwhere everyone is dysfunc~
tional and no one is truly cared for, loved, or emotionally fulftlled.
Despite all the male bluster, Quick, a quintessential black male
hero, longs to be loved. Choosing to seek the affections of an unavail
able and unattainable black woman (the mistress of the most powerful
white man), Quickdoes attempt to share himself, to drop the masculine
mask and be "real" (symbolized by his willingness to share his real
name). Yet the black woman he chooses rejects him, only seeking his
favors when she is ordered to by the white man who possesses her. It
is a tragic vision ofblack heterosexuality. Both black woman and black
man are unable to respond fully to one another because they are so
preoccupied with the white power structure, with the white man. The
most valued black woman "belongs" to a white man who willingly
exchanges hersexualfavors in the interestofbusiness. Desiredbyblack
and white men alike (it is their jOint lust that renders her more valuable,
black men desire herbecause white men deSire her and viceversa), her
internalized racism and herlonging for materialwealthandpowerdrive
her to act in complicity with white men against black men. Before she
can carry out her mission to kill him, Quick shoots her after they,have
had sexual intercourse. Not knowing that he has taken the bullets from
her gun, she points it, telling him that her attack is not personal but
"business." Yet when he kills her he makes a point of saying that it is
"personal." This was a very sad moment in the ftlm, in that he destroys
her because she rejects his authentic need for love and care.
Reconstructing Black Masculinity
Contrary to the phaliocentric representation of black masculinity
that has been on display throughout the ftlm, the woman-hating black
men are really shown to be in need of love from females. Orphaned,
QUick, who is "much man" seeking love, demonstrates his willingness
to be emotionally vulnerable, to share only to be rejected, humiliated.
This drama of internecine conflict between black women and men
follows the conventional sexistline that sees blackwomen as betraying
black men by acting in complicity with white patriarchy. This notion of
black female complicity and betrayal is so fIxed in the minds of many
black men they are unable to perceive any flaws in its logic. It certainly
gives credence to Michele Wallace's assertion that black people do not
have a clear understanding of black sexual politics. Black men who
advance the notion that black women are complicit with whi~e men
make this assessment without ever invoking historical documentation.
Indeed, annals ofhistory abound that document the opposite assump
tion, showing that black women have typically acted in solidarity with
black men. While it may be accurate to argue that sexist black women
are complicit withwhite supremacist capitalist patriarchy, so are sexist
black men. Yet most black men continue to deny their complicity.
Spike Lee's recent fIlm Mo'BetterBluesis another tragic vision of
contemporary black heterosexuality. Like Harlem Nights, it focuses on
a world of black male homosodal bonding where black women are
seen primarily as sex objects. Even when they have talent, as the black
female jazz singer'Clarke does, they must still exchange their sexual
favors for recognition. Like Quick, Bleek, the black hero, seeks recog
nition of his value in heterosexual love relations. Yet he is unable to
see the ''value'' of the two black women who care for him. Indeed,
sceneswhere hemakes love to Clarke andalternately sees hera~ Indigo
and vice versa suggest the dixie cup sexist mentality (Le., all women
are alike). And even after his entire world has fallen apart he never
engages in a self-critique that might lead him to understand that
phallocentrism(he is constantlyexplaininghimselfbysaying"it'sa dick
thing") has blocked his ability to develop a mature adult identity, has
rendered himunable to confrontpainand move past denial. Spike Lee's
use ofMurphy's phraseestablishesa continuumofhomosociaIbonding
between black men that transcends the cinematic fIction.
Irorucaliy, the fIlm suggests that Bleek's nihilism and despair can
only be addressed by a rejection ofa playboy, "dick thing" masculinity
and the uncritical acceptance of the traditional patriarchal role. His life
crisis is resolved by the reinscription of a patriarchal paradigm. Since
Clarke is no longer available, he seeks comfort with Indigo, pleads with
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her to "save his life. Spike Lee, like Murphy to some extent, exposes
n
the essential self-serving narcissism and denial ofcommunity that is at
the heart of phallocentrism. He does not, howevet, envision a radical
alternative. The film suggests Bleek has no choice and can only repro
duce the same family narrative from which he has emerged, effectively
affirming the appropriateness of a nuclear family paradigm where
women as mothers restrict black masculinity, black male creativity, and
fathers hint at the possibilityoffreedom. Domesticityrepresents a place
where one's life is "safe" even though one's creativity is contained. The
nightclub represents a world outside the home where creativity flour
ishes and with it an uninhibited eroticism, only thatworld is one ofrisk.
It is threatening.
The "love supreme" (Coltrane's music and image is a motif
throughout the fUm) that exists between Indigo and Bleek appears
shallow and superficial. No longer sex object to be "boned" whenever
Bleek desires, her body becomes the vessel for the reproduction of
himself via having a son. Self-effacing, Indigo identifies Bleek's
phallocentrism by telling him he is a "dog," but ultimately she rescues
the "dog." His willingness to marry her makes up for dishonesty, abuse,
and betrayal. The redemptive love Bleek seeks cannot really be found
in the model Lee offers and as a consequence this fUm is yet another
masculine fantasy denying black male agency and capacity to assume
responsibilityfor theirpersonalgrowthand salvation. The achievement
ofthis goal would mean they must give up phallocentrismand envision
new ways of thinking about black masculinity.
Even though individual black women adamantly critique black
male sexism, most black men continue to act as though sexism is not
a problem in black life and refuse to see it as the force motivating
oppressive exploitation of women and children by black men. Ifany
culprit is identified, it is raCism. Like Staples' suggestion that the
explanation of why black men rape is best understood in a context
where racism is identified as the problem, any explanation that evokes
a critique of black male phallocentrism is avoided. Black men and
women who espouse cultural nationalism continue to see the struggle
for black liberation largely as a struggle to recover black manhood. In
her essay "Africa On My Mind: Gender, Counter Discourse and African
American Nationalism,n E. Frances White shows that overall black
nationalist perspectives on gender are rarely rooted purely in the
Afrocentric logic they seek to advance, but rather reveal their ties to
white paradigms:
Reconstructing Black Masculinity
In making appeals to conservative notions of appropriate gender
behavior, African-American nationalists reveal their ideological
ties to other nationalist movements, including European and
Euro-American bourgeois nationalists over the past 200 years.
These parallels exist despite the different class and powerbase
of these movements.
Most black nationalists, men and women, refuse to acknowledge the
obviOUSways patriarchal phallocentricmasculinity is adestructiveforce
in black life, the ways it undermines solidarity between black women
and men, or how it· is life-threatening to black men. Even though
individual black nationalists like Haki Madhubuti speak against sexism,
progressive Afrocentric thinking does not have the impact that the old
guard message has. Perhaps it provides sexist black men with a sense
of power and agency (however illusory) to see black women, and
particularly feminist black women, as the enemy that prevents them
from fully participating in this society. For such fiction gives them an
enemy that canbeconfronted, attacked, annihilated, an enemy that can
be conquered, dominated.
Confronting white supremacist capitalist patriarchy would not
provide sexist black menwith an immediate sense ofagency orvictory.
Blaming black women, however, makes it possible for black men to
negotiate with white people in all areas of their lives without vigilantly
interrogating those interactions. A good example of this displacement
is evident in Brent Staples' essay "The White Girl Problem." Defending
his "politically incorrect taste in women" (Le., his preference for white
female partners), from attacking black women, Staples never inter
rogates his desire.He does not seek to understand the extent to which
white supremacist capitalist patriarchy determines his desire. He does
not want desire to be politicized. And of course his article does not
address white female racismordiscuss the fact that awhite person does
not have to be anti-I?lcist to desire a black partner. Many inter-racial
relationships have their roots in racist constructions of the Other. By
fOCUSing in a stereotypical way on black women's anger, Staples can
avoid these issues and depoliticize the politics of black and white
female interactions. His essay would have been a needed critical
intervention had he endeavored to explore the way individuals
maintain racial solidarity even as they bond with folks outside their
particular group. .
Solidarity between black women and men continues to be
undermined by sexism and misogyny. As black women increaSingly
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108
oppose and challenge male domination, internecine tensions abound.
Publicly, many ofthe gender conflicts between black women and men
have been exposed in recent years with the increasingly successful
commodification of black women's writing. Indeed, gender conflict
between sexist black male writers and those black female writers who
are seen as feminists has been particularly brutal. Black male critic
Stanley Crouch has been one of the leading voices mocking and
ridiculing black women. His recently published collection of essays,
Notes ofA HangingJudge, includesarticles that are particularlyscathing
in their attacks on black women.
His critique of Wallace's Black Macho is mockingly titled "Aunt
Jemima Don't Like Uncle Ben" (notice that the emphasis is on black
women not likingblack men, hence the captionalreadyptacesaccount
ability for tensions on black women). The title deflects attention away
from the concrete critique of sexism in Black Macho by making it a
question of personal taste. Everyone seems eager to forget that it is
possible for black women to love black men and yet unequivocally
challenge and oppose sexism, male dOmination, and phallocentrism.
Crouch neverspeaks to the issues ofblack male sexism in his piece and
works instead to make wallace appear an "unreliable" narrator. His
useful critical comments are thus undermined by the apparent refusal
to take seriously the broad political issues Wallace raises. His refusal to
acknowledge sexism, expressed as "black macho,~ is a serious prob
lem. It destroys the possibility of genuine solidarity between black
women and men, makes it appear that he is really angry at Wallace and
other black women because he is fundamentally anti-feminist and
unwilling to challenge male domination. Crouch's stance epitomizes
the attitude of contemporary black male writers who are either uncer
tain about their political response to feminism or are adamantly anti
feminist. Much black male anti-feminism is linked to a refusal to
acknowledge that the phallocentric power black menwield overblack
women is "real" power, the assumptionbeing that onlythe powerwhite
men have that black men do not have is real.
If, as Frederick Douglass maintained, "power concedes nothing
withouta demand,~ the blackwomen and men who advocate feminism
must be ever vigilant, critiquing and reSisting all forms ofsexism. Some
black men may refuse to acknowledge that sexism prOVides them with
forms ofmale privilege and power, however relative. They do not want
to surrender that power in a worldwhere they may feel otherwise quite
powerless. Contemporary emergence ofa consetvative black nationalism
which exploits a focus on race to both deny the importance of strug
(
(
(
Reconstructing Black Masculinity
gling against sexism and racism Simultaneously is both an overt attack
on feminism anda force that activelyseeks to reinscribe sexist thinking
among black people who have been questioning gender. Com
modification of blackness that makes phallocentric black masculinity
marketable makes the realm of cultural politics a propagandistic site
where black people are rewarded materially for reactionary thinking
about gender. Should we not be suspicious of the way in which white
culture's fascination with black masculinity manifests itself? The very
images of phallocentric black masculinity that are glorified and cele
brated in rap music, videos, and movies are the representations that are
evoked when white supremacists seek to gain public acceptance and
support for genocidal assault on black men, particularly youth.
Progressive Afrocentric ideology makes this critique and interro
gates sexism. In his latestbook, BlackMen: Obsolete, Single, Dangerous,
HakiMadhubuti courageouslydeplores all forms ofsexism, particularly
black male violence against women. Like black male political figures
of the past, Madhubuti's support of gender equality and his critique of
sexism is not linked to an overall questioning of gender roles and a
repudiation of all forms of patriarchal domination, however benevo
lent. Still, he has taken the important step of questioning sexism and
calling on black people to explore the way sexism hurts and wounds
us. Madhubuti acknowledges black male misogyny:
The "fear" ofwomenthatexists among many Black men runs deep
and often goes unspoken. This fear is cultural. Most men are
introduced to members ofthe opposite sex in a superficial manner,
and seldom do we seek a more in depth or infonned understanding
of them...Women have it rough all over the world. Men must
become informed listeners.
Woman-hating will only cease to be a norm in black life when
black men collectively dare to oppose sexism. Unfortunately, when all
black people should beengaged in a feminist movementthat addresses
the sexual politics of our communities, many of us are tragically
investing in old gender norms. At a time when many black people
should be reading Madhubuti's Black Men, Sister Outsider, The Black
Women ~ Health Book, Feminist Theory: From Margin to Center, and a
host of other books that seek to explore black sexual politics with
compassionand care, folks are eagerly consuming a consetvative tract,
The Blackman's Guide To Understanding The Blackwoman by
Shahrazad Ali. This work actively promotes black male misogyny,
coercive domination offemales by males, and, as a consequence, feeds
59. 110
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the internecine conflict between blackwomen and men. Though many
black people have embraced this work there is no indication that it is
having a positive impact on black communities, and there is every
indication that it is being used to justify male domi.ilance, homophobic
assaults on black gay people, and rejection ofblack styles that empha
size our diasporic connection to Africa and the Caribbean. Ali's book
romanticizes black patriarchy, demanding that black women "submit"
to black male domination in lieu ofchanges in societythatwould make
it possible for black men to be more fulfilled.
Calling for a strengthening ofblack male phallocentric power (to
be imposed by force if need be), Ali's book in no way acknowledges
sexism. Whenwriting about black men, her bookreads like an infantile
caricatureofthe Tarzanfantasy. Urging black men to assert theirrightful
position as patriarchs, she tells them: "Rise Blackman, and take your
rightful place as ruler ofthe universe and everything in it. Including the
blackwoman."Like Harlem Nights, this is the stuffofpure fantasy. That
black people, particularly the underclass, are turning to escapist fantasies
that can in no way adequately address the collective need of African
Americans for renewed black liberation struggle is symptomatic ofthe
crisiswe are facing. Desperately clinging toways ofthinking and being
that are detrimental to our collective well-being obstructs progressive
efforts for change.
More black men have broken their silence to critique Ali's work
than have ever offered public support of feminist writing by black
women. Yet it does not help educate black people about the ways
feminist analysis could be useful in our lives for black male critics to
act as though the success of this book represents a failure on the part
offeminism. Ali's sexist, homophobic, self-denigrating tirades strike
a familiar chord because so many black people who· have not
de-colonized their minds think as she does. Though black male critic
Nelson George critiques Ali's work, stating that it shows "how little
Afrocentrism respects the advances of African-American women," he
suggests that it is an indication of how "unsuccessful black feminists
have been in forging alliance with this ideologically potent community.»
Statements like this one advance the notion that feminist education is
the sole taskofblackwomen. Italso rather neatlyplaces George outside
either one of these potent communities. Why does he not seize the
criticai moment to bring to public awareness the feminist visions of
Afrocentric black women? All too often, black men who are indirectly
supportive of feminist movement act as though black women have a
Reconstructing Black Masculinity
personal stake in eradicating sexism that men do not have. Black men
benefit from feminist thinking and feminist movement too.
Anyexamination ofthe contemporaryplightofblack men reveals
the way phallocentrism is at the root ofmuch black-on-blackviolence,
undermines family relations, informs the lackofpreventivehealth care,
and even plays a role in promoting drug addiction. Many of the
destructive habits of black men are enacted in the name 'of "man
hood." Asserting their ability to be "tough," to be "cool,» black men
take grave risks with their lives and the lives ofothers. Acknowledging
this in his essay "Cool Pose: The Proud Signature of Black Survival,"
Richard Majors argues that "cool" has positive dimensions even
though it "is also an aggressive assertion of masculinity." Yet, he
never overtly critiques sexism. Black men may be reluctant to
Critique phallocentrism and sexism, precisely because so much
black male "style" has its roots in these positions; they may fear
that eradicating patriarchy would leave them without the positive
expressive styles that have been life-sustaining. Majors is clear,
however, that a "cool pose" linked to aggreSSive phallocentrism is
detrimental to both black men and the people they care about:
Perhaps black men have become so conditioned to keeping up
their guard against oppression from the dominant white society
that this particular attitude and behavior represents for them their
bestsafeguard against further mental or physical abuse. However,
this same behavior makes it very difficult for these males to let
their guard down and show affection...
Elsewhere, he suggests "that the same elements of cool that allow for
survival in the larger society may hurt black people by contributing
to one of the more complex problems facing black people today
black-on-black crime." Clearly, black men need to employ a feminist
analysis that will address the issue of how to construct a life-sustaining
black masculinitythatdoes nothaveits roots inpatriarchalphallocentrism.
Addressing the way obsessive concern with the phallus causes
black men stress in No Name in the Street, James Baldwin explains:
Every black man walking in this country pays a tremendous price
for walking: for men are notwomen, and a man'sbalance depends
on the weight he carries between his legs. All men, however they
may face or fail to face it, howeverthey may handle, orbe handled
by it, know something about each other, which is simply that a
man without balls is not a man...
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What might black men do for themselves and for black people if they
were not socialized by white supremacist capitalist patriarchy to focus
their attention on their penises? Shouldwe not suspect the contemporary
commodification of blackness orchestrated by whites that once again
tells black men not only to focus on their penis but to make this focus
their all consuming paSSion? Such confused men have little time or
insight for resistance struggle. Should we not suspect representations
of black men like those that appear in a movie like Heart Condition,
where the black male describes himselfas "hung like a horse" as though
the size of his penis defines who he is? And what does it say about the
future of black liberation struggles if the phrase "it's a dick thing" is
transposed and becomes "its a black thing?" If the "black thing," Le.,
black liberation struggle, is really only a "dick thing" in disguise, a
phallocentric play for black male power, then black people are tn
serious trouble.
Challenging black male phallocentrismwould also make a space
for critical discussion of homosexuality in black communities. Since so
much ofthe quest for phallocentric manhood as it is expressed in black
nationalist circles rests on a demand for compulsory heterosexuality, it
has always promoted the persecution and hatred ofhomosexuals. This
is yet anotherstance that has undermined blacksolidarity. Ifblack men
no longer embraced phallocentric masculinity, they would be em
powered to explore their fear and hatred of other men, learning new
ways to relate. How many black men will have to die before black folks
are willing to look at the link between.the contemporary plightofblack
men and their continued allegiance to patriarchy and phallocentrism?
Most black men will acknowledge that black men are in crisis and
are suffering. Yet they remain reluctant to engage those progressive
movements that might serve as meaningful.critical interventions, that
might allow them to speak their pain. On the terms set by white
supremacist patriarchy, black men can name their pain only by talking
about themselves in crude ways that reinscribe them in a context of
primitivism. Why should black men have to talk about themselves as
an "endangered species" in order to gain public recognition of their
plight? And why are the voices ofcolonized black men, many ofwhom
are in the spodight, drowning out progressive voices? Why do we not
listen toJoseph Beam, one such courageous voice? He hadno difficulty
sharing the insight that "communism, SOcialism, feminism and,
homosexuality pose far less ofa threat to America than racism, sexism,
heterosexism, classism, and ageism." Never losing Sight ofthe need for
black men to name their realities, to speak their pain and their resis-
Reconstructing Black Masculinity
tance, Beam concluded his essay "No Cheek To Tum" with these
prophetic words:
I speak to you as a black gay pro-feminist man moving in a world
where nobody wants to know my name, or hear my voice. In
prison, I'm just a number; in the army, I'm jUst a rank; on the job
and in the hospital, I'm just a statistic; on the street, I'm just a
suspect. Myhead reels. IfIdidn'thave access to print,I, too, would
write on walls. I want my life's passage to be acknowledged for
at least the length of time it takes pain to fade from brick. With
that said I serve my notice: I have no cheek to tum.
Changing representations ofblack men must be a collective task.
Black people committed to renewed black liberation struggle, the
de-colonization of black minds, are fully aware that we must oppose
male dominationand work to eradicatesexism. Thereareblack women
and men who are working together to strengthen our solidarity. Black
men like Richard Majors, Calvin Hernton, Cornel West, Greg Tate,
Essex Hemphill, and others address the issue ofsexismand advocate
feminism. If black men and women take seriously Malcolm's charge
that we must work for our liberation "by any means necessary," then
we must be willing to explore the way feminism as a critique ofsexism,
as a movement to end sexism and sexist oppression, could aid our
struggle to be self-determining. Collectively we can break the life
threatening choke-hold patriarchal masculinity imposes on black men
and create life sustaining visions of a reconstructed black masculinity
that can provide black men ways to save their lives and the lives oftheir
brothers and sisters in struggle.
61. Chapter 7
The Oppositional Gaze
Black Female Spectators
When thinking about black female spectators, I remember being
punished as a cliild for staring, for those hard intense direct looks
children would give grown-ups, looks that were seen as confronta
tional, as gestures ofresistance, challenges to authority. The "gaze" has
alwaysbeen. political in my life. Imagine the terror felt by the child who
has come to understand through repeated punishments that one's gaze
can be dangerous. The childwho has learned so well to look the other
way when necessary. Yet, when punished, the child is told by parents,
"Look at me when I talk to you." Only, the child is afraid to look. Afraid
to look, but fascinated by the·gaze. There is power in looking.
Amazed the first time I read in history classes that white slave
owners (men, women, and children) punished enslaved black people
for looking, Iwondered how this traumatic relationship to the gaze had
informed black parenting. and· black spectatorship. The politics of
slavery, of racialized power relations, were such that the slaves were
denied their right to gaze. Connecting this strategy of domination to
that used by grown folks in southern black rural communities where I
grew up, I was pained to think that there was no absolute difference
betweenwhites who had oppressed black people and ourselves. Years
later, readingMichel Foucault, Ithought again about these connections,
about. the .ways.power. as. domination.reproduces itself indifferent
locations employing similar apparatuses,.strategies, and mechanisms
of control. Since I knew as a child that the dominating power adults
ll5
62. 116 117
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exercised over me and over my gaze was never so absolute that I did
not dare to look, to sneak a peep, to stare dangerously, I knew that the
slaves had looked. That all attempts to repress ourlblack peoples' right
to gaze had produced in us an overwhelming longing to look, a
rebellious desire, an oppositional gaze. By courageously looking, we
defiantly declared: "Not only will I stare. I want my look to change
reality." Even in.the worse circumstances of dOmination, the ability to
manipulateone'sgazein theface ofstructuresofdomination thatwould
contain it, opens up the possibility of agency. In much of his work,
Michel Foucault insists on describing domination in terms of "relations
of power" as part of an effort to challenge the assumption that "power
is a system ofdomination which controls everything and which leaves
no roomforfreedom." Emphaticallystatingthatinall relationsofpower
"there is necessarily the possibility ofresistance,",he invites the critical
thinker to search those margins, gaps, and locations on and through
the body where agency can be found.
Stuart Hall calls for recognition ofour agency as black spectators
in his essay "Cultural Identity and Cinematic Representation.'? Speaking
against the construction ofwhite representations of blackness as total
izing, Hall says of white presence: "The error is not to conceptualize
this 'presence' in terms of power, but to locate that power as wholly
external to Us--GS extrinsic force, whose influence can be thrown off
like the serpent sheds its skin. What Franz Fanon reminds us, in Black
Skin, White Masks, is how power is inside as well as outside:
...the movements, the attitudes, the glances ofthe Other ftxed me
there, in the sense in which a chemical solution is flXed by a dye.
I was indignant; I demanded an explanation. Nothi'ng happened.
I burst apart. Now the fragments have been put together again by
another self. This "look," from---so to speak-the place of the
Other, flXes us, not only in its violence, hostility and aggression,
but in the ambivalence of its desire.
Spaces ofagency exist for black people, wherein we can both interro
gate the gaze of the Other but also look back, and at one another,
naming what we see. The "gaze" has been and is a site ofresistance for'
colonized black people globally. Subordinates in relations of power
learn experientially that there is a critical gaze, one that "looks" to
document, one that is oppositional. In resistance struggle, the power
of the dominated to assert agency by claiming and cultivating "aware
ness" politicizes "looking" relatioIl5--<)neleams to lock a certain'way,
in order to resist.
The Oppositional Gaze
When most black people in the United States first had the oppor
tunity to look at film and television, they did so fully aware that mass
media was a system of knowledge and power reproducing and main
taining white supremacy. To stare at the television, or mainstream
movies, to engage its images, was to engage its negation of black
representation. It was the oppositional black gaze that responded to
these looking relations by developing independent black cinema.
Black viewers of mainstream cinema and television could chart the
progress ofpolitical movements for racial equality via the construction
ofimages, and did so. Within myfamily's southernblackworking-class
home, located in a raciallysegregated neighborhood, watching television
was oneway to develop criticalspectatorship. Unlessyouwent towork
in the white world, across the tracks, you learned to look at white
people by staring at them on the screen. Black looks, as they were
constituted in the context of social movements for racial uplift, were
interrogatinggazes. We laughedattelevisionshows like Our Gangand
Amos In I Andy, at these white representations ofblackness, butwe also
looked at them critically. Before racial integration, black viewers of
movies and television experienced visual pleasure in a context where
looking was also about contestation and confrontation.
Writing about black looking relations in "Black British Cinema:
Spectatorship and Identity,Formation inTerritories," Manthia Diawara
,identifies "the-powercof·;the spectator: '~Every· narration places the
spectatorina'positioh'of agency; and race; class and sexual relations
influence the wayinwhichthis subjecthood isfilled by the spectator."
Of particular concern for him are moments of·J'rupture~. when the
spectator'resiSts'"complete'identificationwiththe film's discourse.'!
These ruptures define the relation between black spectators and
dominant cinema prior to racial integration. Then, one's enjoyment
of a film wherein representations of blackness were stereotypically
degrading and dehumanizing co-existed with a critical practice that
restored presence where it was negated. Critical discussion of the film
while it was in progress or at its conclusion maintained the distance
between spectator and the image. Black films were also subject to
critical interrogation. Since they came into being in part as a response
to the failure of white~dominated cinema to represent blackness in a
manner thatdid notreinforcewhitesupremacy, theytoowere critiqued
to see if images were seen as complicit with dominant cinematic
practices.
Critical, interrogating black looks were mainly concerned with
issues ofrace and racism, theway racial dominationofblacksbywhites
63. 118 BLACK LOOKS
overdetermined representation. Theywere rarely concerned withgender.
As spectators, black men could repudiate the reproduction ofracism in
cinema and television, the negation of black presence, even as they
could feel as though they were rebelling against white supremacy by
daring to look, by engaging phallocentric politics of spectatorship.
Given the real life public circumstances wherein black men were
murdered/lynched for looking at white womanhood, where the black
male gaze was always subject to control andlor punishment by the
powerful white Other, the private realm of television screens or dark
theaters could unleash the repressed gaze. There they could "look" at
white womanhood without a structure of domination overseeing the
gaze, interpreting, and punishing. Thatwhite supremaciststructure that
had murdered Emmet Till after interpreting his look as violation, as
"rape" ofwhite womanhood, could not control black male responses
to screen images. In their role as spectators, black men could enter an
imaginativespace ofphallocentricpowerthatmediatedracial negation.
This gendered relation to looking made the experience of the black
male spectator radically different from that of the black female spectator.
Major early black male independent filmmakers represented black
women in their films as objects ofmale gaze. Whetheriooking through
the cameraoras spectatorswatchingfilms, whethermainstream cinema
or "race" movies such as those made byOscarMicheaux, the blackmale
gaze had a different scope from that of the black female.
Black women have written little about black female spectator
ship, about our moviegoing practices. A growing body of film theory
and criticism by black women has only begun to emerge. The pro
longed silence ofblack women as spectators and critics was a response
to absence, to cinematic negation. In "The Technology of Gender,"
Teresa de Lauretis, drawing on the work of Monique Wittig, calls
attention to "the power of discourses to 'do violence' to people, a
violence which is material and physical, although produced by abstract
and scientific discourses as well as the discourses of the mass media."
With the possible exception ofearly race movies, black female spectators
have had to develop looking relations within a cinematic context that
constructs our presence as absence, that denies the "body" of the
black female so as to perpetuate white supremacy and with it a
phallocentric spectatorship where the woman to be looked at and
desired is "white." (Recent movies do not conform to this paradigm
but I am turning to the past with the intent to chart the development
of black female spectatorship.)
119
The Oppositional Gaze
Talking with black women of all ages and classes, in different
areas of the United States, about their filmic looking relations, I hear
again and again ambivalent responses to cinema. Only a few of the
black women I talked with remembered the pleasure of race movies,
and even those who did, felt that pleasure interrupted and usurped by
Hollywood. Most of the black women I talked with were adamant that
they neverwent to movies expecting to see compelling representations
ofblack femaleness. Theywere all acutely aware ofcinematic racism
its violent erasure of black womanhood. In Anne Friedberg's essay"A
Denial of Difference: Theories ofCinematic Identification" she stresses
that "identification can only be made through recognition, and all
recognition is itselfan implicit confirmationofthe ideologyofthe status
quo." Evenwhen representations ofblackwomen were present in film,
our bodies and being were there to serve--to enhance and maintain
white womanhood as object of the phallocentric gaze.
Commenting on Hollywood's characterization of black women
in Girls on Film, Julie Burchill describes this absent presence:
Black women have been mothers without children (Mammies-
who can ever forget the sickening spectacle ofHattie MacDaniels
waiting on the simpering Vivien leigh hand and foot and enquir
ing like a ninny, "What's rna lamb gonna wear?")...lena Home, (
the first black performer signed to a long term contract with a
major (MGM), looked gutless but was actually quite spirited. She
seethed when Tallulah Bankhead complimented her on the pale (
ness of her skin and the non-Negroidness of her features.
(
When black women actresses like Lena Home appeared in mainstream
cinema most white viewers were not aware that they were looking at (
black females unless the film was specifically coded as being about
(
blacks. Burchill is one of the few white women fUm critics who has
dared to examine the intersection of race and gender in relation to (
the construction of the category "woman" in film as object of the
(
phallocentricgaze. With characteristicwit she asserts: "What does it say
about racial purity that the best blondes have all been brunettes (
(Harlow, Monroe, Bardot)? I think it says that we are not as white as we
think." Burchill could easily have said "we are not as white as we want
to be," for clearly the obsession to have white women fUm stars be
ultra-white was a cinematic practice that sought to maintain a distance,
a separation between that image and the black female Other; it was a
way to perpetuate white supremacy. Politics of race and gender were
inscribed into mainstream cinematic narrative from Birth ofA Nation
64. 120 121
BLACK LOOKS
on. As a seminal work, this film identified what the place and function
of white womanhood would be in cinema. There was clearly no
place for black women.
Remembering my past in relation to screen images of black
womanhood, I wrote a short essay, "Do you remember Sapphire?"
which explored both the negation of black female representation in
cinemaand television and ourrejection ofthese images. Identifying the
character of "Sapphire" from Amos In IAndyas that screen representa
tion of black femaleness I ftrst saw in childhood, I wrote:
She was even then backdrop, foil. She was bitch-nag. She was
there to soften images of black men, to make them seem vulner
able, easygoing, funny; and unthreatening to a white audience.
She was there as man in drag, as castrating bitch, as someone to ~~
be lied to, someone to be tricked, someone the white and black
audience could hate. Scapegoated on all sides. Sbe was notus. We
laughed with the black men, with the white people. We laughed
at this black woman who was not us. And we did not even long
to be there on the screen. How could we long to be there when
our image, visually constructed, was so ugly. We did not long to
be there. We did not long for her. We did not want our construc
tion to be this hated black female thing-foil, backdrop. Herblack
female image was not the body of desire. There was nothing to
see. She was not us.
Grown black women had a different response to Sapphire; they iden
tifled with her frustrations and her woes. They resented the way she
was mocked. Theyresented the way these screen images could assault
black womanhood, could name us bitches, nags. And in opposition
they claimed Sapphire as their own, as the symbol of that angry part
of themselves white folks and black men could not even begin to
understand.
Conventional representations of black women have done violence
to the image. Responding to this assault, manyblack womenspectators
shut out the image, looked the otherway, accordedcinema no impor
tance in their lives. Then there were those spectators whose gaze was
that ofdesire and complicity. Assuminga postureofsubordination, they
submitted to cinema's capacity to seduce and betray. They were cine
matically "gaslighted.» Every black woman Ispoke with who was/is an
ardent moviegoer, a lover of the Hollywood film, testifted that to
experience fully the pleasure of that cinema they had to close down
critique, analysis; they had to forget racism. And mostly they did not
think about sexism. What was the nature then of this adoring black
The Oppositional Gaze
female gaze-this look that could bring pleasure in the midst of
negation? In her ftrst novel, The BluestEye, Toni Morrison constructs a
portrait ofthe black female spectator; her gaze is the masochistic look
of victimization. Describing her looking relations, Miss Pauline
Breedlove, a poorworking woman, maid in the house of a prosperous
white family, asserts:
The onliest time I be happy seem like was when I was in the
picture show. Every time I got, I went, I'd go early, before the
show started. They's cut off the lights, and everything be black.
Then the screen would light up, and I's move right on in them
picture. White men taking such good care ofthey women, and
they all dressed up in big clean houses with the bath tubs right
in the same room with the toilet. Them pictures gave me a lot
of pleasure.
To experience pleasure, Miss Pauline sitting in the dark must imagine
herself transformed, turned into the white woman portrayed on the
screen. After watching movies, feeling the pleasure, she says, "But it
made coming horne hard.»
We corne horne to ourselves. Not all black women spectators
submitted to that spectade of regression through identification. Most
of the women I talked with felt that the' c;onsdously resisted identifi
cation with fiIms--that this tension made mOviegoing less than plea
surable; at times it caused pain. As one black woman put, "I could
always get pleasure from movies as long as I did not look too deep.»
For black female spectatorswho have "looked too deep" the encounter
with the screen hurt. That some of us chose to stop looking was a
gesture of resistance, turning away was one way to protest, to reject
negation. My pleasure in the screen ended abruptly when I and my
sisters ftrst watched Imitation ofLife. Writing about this experience in
the "Sapphire" piece, I addressed the movie directly, confeSSing:
I had until now forgotten you, that screen image seen in adoles
cence, those images that made me stop looking. It was there in
Imitation of Lf/e, that comfortable mammy image. There was
something familiar about this hard-working black woman who
loved her daughter so much, loved her in a way that hurt. Indeed,
as young southern black girls watching this film, Peala's mother
reminded us of the hardworking, churchgoing, Big Mamas we
knew and loved. Consequently, itwasnot this imagethat captured
our gaze; we were fascinated by Peola.
65. 122 123
BLACK LOOKS
Addressing her, I wrote:
You were different. There was something scary in this image of
young sexual sensual black beauty betrayed-that daughter who
did not want to be confmed by blackness, that "tragic mulatto"
who did not want to be negated. "Just let me escape this image
forever,· she could have said. I will always remember that image.
I remembered how we cried for her, for our unrealized desiring
selves. She was tragic because there was no place in the cinema
for her, no loving pictures. She too was absent image. It was better
then, that we were absent, for when we were there it was humil
iating, strange, sad. We cried all night for you, for the cinema that
had no place for you. And like you, we stopped thinking it would
one day be different.
When I returned to films as a young woman, after a long period
ofsilence, I had developed an oppositional gaze. Not only would I not~
be hurt by the absence of black female presence, or the insertion of "
violating representation, I interrogated the work, cultivated a way to
look past race and gender for aspects of content, form, language.
Foreign films and U.S. independent cinema were the primary loca
tions of my filmic looking relations, even though I also watched
Hollywood films. •
From "jump,» black female spectators have gone to ftlrns with
awareness of the way in which race and racism determined the visual
construction of gender. Whether it was Birth 0/A Nation or Shirley
Temple shows, we knew that white womanhood was the racialized
sexual difference occupying the place ofstardom in mainstream narra
tive fllm. We assumedwhitewomenknewit to. Readinglaura Mulvey's
provocative essay, "Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema," from a
standpoint thatacknowledges race, one sees clearlywhy blackwomen
spectators not duped by mainstream cinema would develop an
oppositional gaze. Placing ourselves outside that pleasure in looking,
Mulvey argues, was determined by a "split between active/male and
passive/female." Black female spectators actively chose not to identify
with the film's imaginary subject because such identification was dis
enabling.
Looking at films with an oppositional gaze, black women were
able to critically assess the cinema's construction ofwhite womanhood
as object of phallocentric gaze and choose not to identify with either
the victim or the perpetrator. Black female spectators, who refused to
identify with white womanhood, who would not take on the
phallocentric gaze of desire and possession, created a critical space
The Oppositional Gaze
where the binary opposition Mulvey posits of "woman as image, man
as bearer of the look" was continually deconstructed. As critical spec
tators, black women looked from a location that disrupted, one akin to
that described by Annette Kuhn in The Power o/The Image:
...the acts of analysis, of deconstruction and of reading "against
the grain· offeranadditional pleasure--the pleasure ofresistance,
of saying "no": not to "unsophisticated" enjoyment, by ourselves
and others, of culturally dominant images, but to the structures of
power which ask us to consume them uncritically and in highly
circumscribed ways.
Mainstreamfeminist film criticism in noway acknowledges black
female spectatorship. It does not even consider the possibility that
women can construct an oppositional gaze via an understanding and
awareness ofthe politics ofrace and racism. Feminist fllm theory rooted
in an ahistoricaI psychoanalytic framework that privileges sexual differ
ence actively suppresses recognition of race, reenacting and mirroring
the erasure of black womanhood that occurs in films, silenCing any
discussion ofracial difference-ofracialized sexual difference. Despite
feminist critical interventions aimed at deconstructing the category
"woman" which highlight the significance of race, many feminist fllm
critics continue to structure their discourse as though it speaks about
"women" when in actuality it speaks onlyaboutwhitewomen. It seems
ironic that the coverofthe recent anthology Feminism andFilm Theory
edited by Constance Penley has a graphic that is a reproduction of the
photo of white actresses Rosalind Russell and Dorothy Arzner on the
1936 set ofthe fllm Craig's Wife yet there is no acknowledgment in any
essay in this collection that the woman "subject" under discussion is
always white. Even though there are photos ofblackwomen from fllms
reproducedin the text, there is no acknowledgment ofracial difference.
It would be too simplistic to interpret this failure of insight solely
as a gesture of racism. Importantly, it also speaks to the problem of
structuring feminist filin theory around a totalizing narrative ofwoman
as object whose image functions solely to reaff1fffi and reinscribe
patriarchy. Mary Ann Doane addresses this issue in the essay "Remem
bering Women: Psychical and Historical Construction in Film Theory":
This attachment to the figure of a degeneralizible Woman as the
product of the apparatus indicates why, for many, feminist film
theory seems to have reached an impasse, a certain blockage in
its theorization...In focusing upon the task ofdelineating in great
66. 124
125
BLACK LOOKS
detail the attributes ofwoman as effect of the apparatus, feminist
film theory participates in the abstraction of women.
The concept "Woman" effaces the difference between women in
specific socio-historical contexts, betweenwomen defined preciselyas
historical subjects rather than as a psychic subject (or non-subject).
Though Doane does not focus on race, her comments speak directly to
the problem of its erasure. For it is only as one imagines "woman" in
the abstract, when woman becomes fiction or fantasy, can race not be
seen as Significant. Are we really to imagine that feminist theorists
writing only about images ofwhite women, who subsume this specific
historical subject under the totalizing category "woman," do not "see"
the whiteness of the image? It may very well be that they engage in a
process of denial that eliminates the necessity of revisioning conven:
tional ways of thinking about psychoanalysis as a paradigm of analysis
and the need to rethink a body of feminist film theory that is firmly
rooted in a denial of the reality that sex/sexuality may not be the
primary and/or exclusive signifier of difference. Doane's essay ap
pears in a very recent anthology, Psychoanalysis and Cinema edited
by E. Ann Kaplan, where, once again, none of the theory presented
acknowledges ordiscusses racial difference, with the exception ofone
essay, "Not Speaking with Language, Speaking with No Language,"
which problematizes notions oforientalism in its examination ofLeslie
Thornton's film Adynata. Yet in most of the essays, the theories
espoused are rendered problematic if one includes race as a category
of analysis.
Constructing feminist film theory along these lines enables the
production ofa discursive practice that need never theorize any aspect
of black female representation or spectatorship. Yet the existence of
black women within white supremacist culture problematizes, and
makes complex, the overallissueoffemale identity, representation, and
spectatorship. If, as Friedberg suggests, "identification is a process
which commands the subject to be displaced by an other; it is a
procedure which breeches the separation between selfand other, and,
in this way, replicates the very structure ofpatriarchy." If identification
"demands sameness, necessitates similarity, disallows difference"
must we then surmise that many feminist film critics who are "over
identified" with the mainstream cinematic apparatus produce theories
that replicate its totalizing agenda? Why is it that feminist fIlm criticism,
which has most claimed the terrainofwoman's identity, representation,
and subjectivity as its field of analysis, remains aggressively silent on the
subject of blackness and specifically representations of black woman-
The Oppositional Gaze
hood? Just as ma,instream cinema has historically forced aware black
female spectators not to look, muchfeminist film criticismdisallows the
possibility of a theoretical dialogue that might include black women's
voices. It is difficult to talkwhenyou feel no one is listening, when you
feel as though a special jargon or narrative has been created that only
the chosen can understand. No wonder then that black women have
for the most part confined our critical commentary on film to conver
sations. And it must be reiterated that this gesture is a strategy that
protects us from the violence perpetuated and advocated bydiscourses
of mass media. A new focus on issues ofrace and representation in the
field offilm theory could criticallyintervene onthe historical repression
reproduced in some arenas of contemporary critical practice, making
a discursivespacefor discussionofblackfemale spvctatorship possible.
When I asked a black woman in her ~enties, an obsessive
moviegoer, why she thought we had not written about black female
spectatorship, she commented: "We are afraid to talk about ourselves
as spectators because we have been so abused by 'the gaze'." An aspect
of that abuse was the imposition of the assumption that black female
looking relations were not important enough to theorize. Film theory
as a critical "turf' in the United States has been and continues to be
influenced by and reflective ofwhite racial domination. Since feminist
film criticism was initially rooted in a women's liberation movement
informed by racist practices, it did not open up the discursive terrain
and make it more inclusive. Recently, even those white film theorists
who include an analysis of race show no interest in black female
spectatorship.In her introduction to the collectionofessays Visualand
OtherPleasures, LauraMulveydescribes herinitial romantic absorption
in Hollywood cinema, stating:
Although this great, previously unquestioned and unanalyzed
love was put in crisis by the impact of feminism on my thought in
the early 1970s, it also had an enormous influence on the devel
opment of my critical work and ideas and 'the debate within film
culture with which I became preoccupied over the next fifteen
years or so. Watched through eyes that were affected by the
changing climate of consciousness, the movies lost their magic.
Watching movies from a feminist perspective, Mulvey arrived at that
location of disaffection that is the starting point for many black women
approaching cinema within the lived harsh reality of racism. Yet her
account ofbeing a part ofa film culture whose roots rest on a founding
relationship ofadoration and love indicates how difficult it would have
67. 126 127
BLACK LOOKS
been to enter that world from "jump" as a critical spectatorwhose gaze
had been formed in opposition.
Given the context of class exploitation, and racist and sexist
domination, it has only been through resistance, struggle, reading, and
looking "against the grain," that black women have been able to value
our process of looking enough to publicly name it. Centrally, those
black female spectators who attest to the oppositionality of their gaze
deconstruct theories offemale spectatorship that have relied heavilyon
the assumption that, as Doane suggests in her essay, "Woman's Stake:
Filming the Female Body," "woman can only mimic man's relation to
language, that is assume a position defmed by the penis-phallus as the
supremearbiteroflack."Identifyingwith neitherthe phallocentricgaze
nor the construction ofwhitewomanhood as lack, critical black female
spectators construct a theory of looking relations where cinematic
visual delight is the pleasure of interrogation. Every black woman
spectator 1talked to, with rare exception, spoke of being "on guard" at
the movies. Talking about the way being a critical spectator of Holly~
wood films influenced her, black woman filmmaker Julie Dash
exclaims, "I make films because 1 was such a spectator!" Looking at
Hollywood cinema from a distance, from that critiCal politicized stand
point that did not want to be seduced by narratives reproducing her
negation, Dash watched mainstream movies over and over again for
the pleasure ofdeconstructing them. And of course there is that added
delight if one happens, in the process of interrogation, to come across
a narrative that invites the black female spectator to engage the text
with no threat of violation.
Significantly, 1began to write film criticismin response to the fIrst
Spike Lee. movie, She's Gotta Have It, contesting Lee's replication of
mainstream patriarchal cinematic practices that explicitly represents
woman (in this instance black woman) as the object ofa phallocentric
gaze. Lee's investment in patriarchal filmic practices that mirror
dominant patterns makes him the perfect black candidate for entrance
to the Hollywood canon. His work mimics the cinematic construction
ofwhite womanhood as object, replacing her body as text on which to
write male desire with the black female body. It is transference without
transformation. Entering the discourse offilm criticism from the politi
cized location of resistance, of not wanting, as a working-class black
woman 1interviewed stated, "to see blackwomen in the positionwhite
women have occupied in fIlm forever," 1began to think Critically about
black female spectatorship.
The Oppositional Gaze
For years I went to independent and!or foreign films where Iwas
the only black female present in the theater. 1often imagined that in
every theater in the United States there was another black woman
watching the same fIlm wondering why she was the only visible black
female spectator. I remember trying to share with one ofmy five sisters
the cinema I liked so much. She was "enraged" that I brought her to a
theaterwhere she would have to read subtitles. To her itwas a violation
of Hollywood notions ofspectatorship, of coming to the movies to be
entertained. When Iinterviewedher to ask what had changed her mind
over the years, led her to embrace this cinema, she cormected it to
coming to critical consciousness, saying, "I learned that there was
more to looking than 1had been exposed to in ordinary (Hollywood)
movies." 1shared that though most of the films I loved were all white,
I could engage them because they did not have in their deep structure
a subtext reproducing the narrative ofwhite supremacy. Her response
was to say that these films demystified "whiteness," since the lives they
depicted seemed less rooted in fantasies of escape. They were, she
suggested, more like "what we knew life to be, the deeper side of life
as well."Always more seduced and enchanted with Hollywood cinema
than me, she stressed that unaware blackfemale spectators must "break
out," no longer be imprisoned by images that enact a drama of our
negation. Though she still sees Hollywood films, because "they are a
major influence in the culture"-she no longer feels duped or victimized.
Talking with black female spectators, looking at written discus
sions either in fiction or academic essays about black women, I noted
the cormection made between the realm of representation in mass
media and the capacity of black women to construct ourselves as
subjects in daily life. The extent to which black women feel devalued,
objectified, dehumanized in this SOCiety determines the scope and
texture oftheir looking relations. Those black women whose identities
were constructed in resistance, by practices that oppose the dominant
order, were most inclined to develop an oppositional gaze. Now that
there is a growinginterestinfilms produced by blackwomen and those
films have become more accessible to viewers, it is possible to talk
about black female spectatorship in relation to that work. So far, most
discussions of black spectatorship that I have come across focus on
men. In "Black Spectatorship: Problems of Identification and Resis
tance" Manthia Diawara suggests that "the components of 'difference'"
among elements of sex, gender, and sexuality give rise to different
readings of the same material, adding that these conditions produce
68. 128 129
BLACK LOOKS
a "resisting" spectator. He focuses his critical discussion on black
masculinity.
The recent publication of the anthology The Female Gaze:
Women as Viewers of Popular Culture excited me, especially as it
included an essay, "Black Looks," byJacqui Roach and Petal Felix: that
attempts to address black female spectatorship. The essay posed pro
vocative questions thatwere not answered: Is there a blackfemale gaze?
How do black women relate to the gender politics of representation?
Concluding, the authors assert that blackfemales have "ourown reality,
our own history, our own gaze-one which the sees the world rather
differently from 'anyone else: " Yet, they do not name/describe this
experience ofseeing "ratherdifferently." The absence ofdefInition and
explanation suggests they are assuming an essentialist stance wherein
it is presumed that black women, as victims of race and gendel
oppression, have an inherently different field of vision. Many black
women do not "see differently" precisely because their perceptions of
reality are so profoundly colonized, shaped by dominant ways of
knowing. As Trinh T. Minh-ha points out in "Outside In, Inside Out":
"Subjectivity does not merely consist of talking about oneself...be this
talking indulgent or critical."
Critical black female spectatorship emerges as a site of resistance
only when individual black women actively resist the imposition of
dominant ways of knowing and looking. While every black woman I
talked to was aware of racism, that awareness did not automatically
correspond with politicization, the development of an oppositional
gaze. When it did, individual black women consciously named the
process. Manthia Diawara's "resisting spectatorship" is a term that does
not adequately describe the terrain of black female spectatorship. We
do more than resist. We create alternative texts that are not solely
reactions. As critical spectators, black women participate in a broad
range of looking relations, contest, resist, revision, interrogate, and
invent on multiple levels. Certainly when I watch the work of black
women fllmmakers Camille Billops, Kathleen Collins, Julie Dash,
Ayoka Chenzira, Zeinabu Davis, I do not need to "resist" the images
even as I still choose to watch their work with a critical eye.
Black female critical thinkers concerned with creating space for
the construction of radical black female subjectivity, and the way
cultural production informs this pOSSibility, fully acknowledge the
importance of mass media, film in particular, as a· powerful site for
critical intervention. CertainlyJulie Dash's film Illusions identifies the
terrain ofHollywood cinema as a space of knowledge production that
The Oppositional Gaze
has enormous power. Yet, she also creates a filmic narrative wherein
the black female protagonist subversively claims that space. Inverting
the "real-life" power structure, she offers the black female spectator
representations that challenge stereotypical notions that place us out
side the realm of filmic discursive practices. Within the film she uses
the strategy of Hollywood suspense films to undermine those
cinematic practices that deny black women a place in this structure.
Problematizing the question of"racial" identityby depicting passing,
suddenly it is the white male's capacity to gaze, define, and know
that is called into questi6n.
When MaryAnn Doane describes in "Woman'sStake: Filming the
Female Body" the way in which feminist f:tlmrnaking practice can
elaborate "a special syntax for a different articulation of the female
body," she names a critical process that "undoes the structure of the
classical narrative through an insistence upon its repressions." An
eloquent deSCription, this precisely names Dash's strategy in Illusions,
even though the f1lrn is not unproblematic and works within certain
conventions that are not successfullychallenged. Forexample, the film
does not indicate whether the character Mignon will make Hollywood
films that subvert and transform the genre orwhethershe will simply
assimilate and perpetuate the norm. Still, subversively, Illusions
problematizes the issue ofrace and spectatorship. White people in the
film are unableto"see" thatraceinforms theirlooking relations. Though
she is passing to gain access to the machinery of cultural production
represented by f1lrn, Mignon continually asserts her ties to black com
munity. The bond between her and the young black woman singer
Esther Jeeter is affumed by caring gestures of affirmation, often ex
pressedby eye-to-eye contact, the directunmediated gaze ofrecognition.
IrOnically, it is the desiring objectifying sexualizedwhite male gaze that
threatens to penetrate her "secrets" and disrupt her process. Metaphor
ically, Dash suggests the power of black women to make films will be
threatened and undermined by that white male gaze that seeks to
reinscribe the black female body in a narrative ofvoyeuristic pleasure
where the only relevant opposition is male/female, and the only
location for the female is as a victim. These tensions are not resolved
by thenarrative. It is not at all evident that Mignon will triumph over
the white supremacist capitalist imperialist dominating "gaze."
Throughout Illusions, Mignon's poweris affirmed by her contact
with the younger black woman whom she nurtures and protects. It is
this process ofmirrored recognition that enables both black women to
define their reality, apart from the reality imposed upon them by
69. 130 BLACK LOOKS
structures ofdomination. Theshared gaze ofthe twowomen reinforces
their solidarity. As the younger subject, Esther represents a potential
audience for mms that Mignon might produce, films wherein black
females will be the narrative focus. Julie Dash's recent feature-length
film Daughters oftbe Dustdares to place black females at the center of
its narrative. This focus caused critics (especially white males) to
critique thefilm negativelyorto express manyreservations. Clearly, the
impact of racism and sexism so over-determine spectatorship--not
only what we look at but who we identify with-that viewers who are
not black females find it hard to empathize with the central characters
in the movie. They are adrift without a white presence in the ftlm.
Another representation of black females nurturing one another
via recognition of their common struggle for subjectivity is depicted in
Sankofa's collective work Passion ofRemembrance. In the film, two
black women friends, Louise and Maggie, are from the onset of the
narrative struggling with the issue of subjectivity, of their place in
progressive black liberation movements that have been sexist. They
challenge old norms and want to replace them with new understand
ings of the complexity of black identity, and the need for liberation
struggles that address that complexity. Dressing to gQto a parry, Louise
and Maggie claim the "gaze.· Lookingatone another, staringin mirrors,
they appear completely focused on their encounterwith black female
ness. How they see themselves is most important, not how they will be
stared at by others. Dancing to the tune "Let's get Loose," they display
their bodies not for a voyeuristic colonizing gaze but for that look of
recognition that affirms their subjectivity-that constitutes them as
spectators. Mutually empowered they eagerly leave the privatized
domain toconfront the public. Disruptingconventional racistandsexist
stereotypical representations of black female bodies, these scenes
invite the audience to look differently. They act to critically intervene
and transform conventional filmic practices, changing notions of
spectatorship. IllUSiOns, Daughters of the Dust, and A Passion of
Remembrance employ a deconstructive fllmic practice to undermine
existing grand cinematic narratives even as they retheorize subjectivity
in the realm of the visual. Without providing "realistic' positive repre
sentations that emerge only as a response to the totalizing nature of
existing narratives, they offer points of radical departure. Opening up
a space for the assertion of a critical black female spectatorship, they
do not simply offer diverse representations, they imagine new trans
gressive possibilities for the formulation of identity.
131
The Oppositional Gaze
In this sense they make explicit a critical practice that provides us
with different ways to think about black female subjectivity and black
female spectatorship. Cinematically, they provide new points ofrecog
nition, embodyingStuartHall's vision ofa critical practicethat acknowl
edges that identity is constituted "not outside but within
representation," and invites us to see film "not as a second-order mirror
held up to reflectwhat already exists, but as that form ofrepresentation
which is able to constitute us as flew kinds of subjects, and thereby
enable us to discoverwhowe are." It is this critical practice that enables
productionoffeminist film theorythattheorizesblackfemale spectator
ship. Looking and looking back, black women involve ourselves in a
process whereby we see our history as counter-memory, using it as a
way to know the present and invent the future.
(
70. ~,
Chapter 8
Micheaux's Films
Celebrating Blackness
Conceiving of his work in independent f11mmaking as counter
hegemonic cultural production, Oscar Micheaux worked doggedly to
create screen images that would disrupt and challenge conventional
racist representations of blackness. Stating this political agenda in the
January 24, 1925 edition of the Philadelphia Afro-American news
paper, Micheaux declared:
I have always tried to make my photoplays present the truth,
to lay before the race a cross section ofits own life, to view the
colored heart from dose range. My results might have been
narrow at times, due perhaps to certain limited situations,
which I endeavored to portray, but in those limited Situations,
the truth was the predominant characteristic. It is only by
presenting those portions of the race portrayed in my pictures,
in the light and background oftheir true state, that we can raise
our people to greater heights.
Though Micheaux aimed to produce a counter-hegemonic art that
would challengewhite supremacist representations of "blackness," he
was not concerned with the simple reduction of black representation
to a "positive" image. In the spirit ofoppositional creativity, he worked
to produce images that would convey complexity of experience and
feeling, arguing that "beforewe expectto see ourselvesfeatured on the
silver screen as we live, hope, act, and think today, men and women
133
71. 134 135
BlACK LOOKS
must write original stories of Negro life." Though he did not conceive
of his work as documentation, making the camera mirror life, he did
want black folks to see images on the screen that were not stereotypes
or caricatures. Micheaux endeavored to go beyond the realm of the
ordinary-it is this vision that gives his films an element ofintrigue and
delight that fascinates.
Ironically, his use of melodrama has been misunderstood by
contemporary viewers who see this style as undermining cinematic
capacity to convey complexity. Micheaux did not suffer from an error
of insight. In the essay "Melodrama Inside and Outside the Home,"
Laura Mulvey explores the subversive possibilities emerging from the
locationofmelodrama, drawing on the TheMelodramaticImagination
by Peter Brooks:
Peter Brooks shows how the melodrama's aesthetic strength lies
precisely in its displacement of the power of the word. This "low
cultural" form could reflect on human struggle with language and
expression and thus influence the development of romantic the
atre. The aesthetics of the popular melodrama depend on grand
gesture, tableaux, broad moral themes, with narratives of coinci
dence, reverses and sudden happy endings organjzec;i around a
rigid opposition between good and evil. Characters represent
forces rather than people, and fail to control or understand their
circumstances so that fate, rather than heroic transcendence,
offers a resolution to the drama...While the aesthetics of melo
drama evolved for a non-literate audience, the style throws doubt
on the adequacy of speech to express the comple:Kities of pas
sion...Awhole terrain ofthe "unspeakable" can thus be depicted.
Micheaux used melodrama in preciselythisway. Approaching his
work from this standpoint enables the contemporary viewer to see
more clearly how his films work to transgress boundaries to offer
perspectives, different "takes," on black experience that can be
found/seen in no othercinematicpractice during his day. Writingabout
Micheaux's unique vision in heressay "The Changeling: Race, Sex, and
Propertyin OscarMicheaux's 'God's Stepchildren,on criticMarllynJimenez
says of his films:
There is in them the true mark of the "auteur," the unmistakable
stamp of a personality, the obsessions of a viSionary; this all
generally under the surface, for the distinctive mark ofaMicheaux
film is the relationship between text and subtext, between what
the film says and what it really says. In so doing, Micheaux more
Micheaux's Films
than any other filmmaker, embodies the ancient characteristic of
black artistic creation: the tropeofreversal, the useof"indirections
to find directions out."
Micheaux, fascinated by what I call "a politics of pleasure and
danger" focused both on racializedsexual politics as they informedthe
construction and expression of desire between black heterosexual
cOl;lples aswell as interracial sexual bondings. Though hewas involved
in a romantic liaison with a white woman in South Dakota, Micheaux
felt marriage to her was tantamount to a betrayal of his race. Desire
expressed sexually, a constant theme in his rUms, became a site where
loyalty and solidarity are tested. Much of his work explores paSSions
aroused in response to acts of betrayal. Attempting to express and
convey the particular forms desire and courtship take within a racial
context ofcolor caste, a societywhere black male and female sexuality
is constructed as dangerous and threatening, Micheaux's work offers
an extended cinematic narrative of black sexual politics. Focusing on
womanizing and vamping, Micheaux's work "exploits" conventional
constructions of good and bad sexuality as he simultaneously "toys"
with the idea of transgression.
The 1932 Micheaux film Ten Minutes To Live problematized the
locationofblackheterosexual pleasurewithina rigid colorcastesystem
that makes the desired object the body most resembling whiteness. In
a series of narrative reversals challenging assumptions that white
ness/light skin should be interpreted as signifying innocence, the
question ofwho is good or bad is rendered far more complex than the
issue of color. Caning into question the Western metaphysical dualism
which associates whiteness with purity and blackness with taint, the
subtext ofMicheaux's seemingly simple melodrama interrogates inter
nalized racism and the color caste system.
Superficially, Ten Minutes To Live conforms to the cinematic
paradigm alreadyset by Hollywood and gives his audience a bad guy.
Addressing the black public's need to have race movies reproduce
aspects of white mainstream cinema that denied their presence,
Micheaux incorporates into his work familiar melodramatic narratives.
Just as the white "master" narratives of cinema insisted that plots be
structured around conflicts between good and evil, this became the
usual ground of conflict in race movies. Responding to what Clyde
Taylor calls in "The MasterText and TheJeddi Doctrine" an insistence
on "the sense of the presence and identity of corruption" which then
"embodies the need for a menacing Manichean adversary," Micheaux
72. 136 137
BLACK LOOKS
used this model to generate suspense, a cinematic tension that fasci
nated audiences.
Ironically, even though Ten Minutes To Live will interrogate the
audience's need for a "bad guy," Micheauxstructures the mm's opening
scenes so that they stimulate the audience's interest in identifying a
villain. First we are shown the image of a distressed black woman
boarding a train, the glamorous Letha. A male vbice-over poses the
question: "What mystery here? Why has this beautiful girl been put on
the spot?" The mm proceeds to explain the scenes we have just seen.
Initially joltedinto a stateofdefamiliarization, the audience sees images
that they know but do not understand in the fUm context. Micheaux
works to establish film as a site for the production of narratives that are
structured to be more compelling than ordinary life, after all race
movies were, like their Hollywood counterparts, about business. Xh
audience had to be captivated so that they would return to see more.
Using the camera to disrupt flXed notions ofsubject and place, to create
an aura ofintrigue, Micheaux aggressively insists thatviewers be •glued
to their seats" if they want to solve the mystery. (His shooting of this
scene is really technologically spectacular when viewed within the
context ofearly film production.) Disrupting the aUdiences capacity to
"read" familiar signs, Micheaux delights in the pleasure of manipula
tion, excessively subordinating everything to the narration. Though a
"race man" eager to work for the uplift of black people, he refused to
accept the notion that black cultural production should Simply be a
re$ponse to white representations of blackness, and thereby only
p0rtray blackness ina positive light. Insistingon diversity and complex~
ity of image, his films set an example.
After the train scene, which opens the fUm in the middle of the
story, strategically shifting the focus away from linear narrative,
Micheaux breaks with convention and lets the audience knowfrom the
onset who the villain is. Identified by a snapshot from a police blotter,
the villain Marvin is described as:
Forty, deaf and mute--but cunning, formerly an actor known on
the stage as the "escape" king due to his abllity to pick any lock,
open any door...lost his voice and hearing about 5 years ago and
developed strange hallucinations.
Though appearing to "identify" the bad guy, this description does not
really say what crimes have been committed. Presented as offici.u
information even though it says nothing specific, this representation
undercuts the stereotype of the black male as criminal, hinting at the
Micheaux's Films
possibility that all representation is constructed and therefore subject
to manipulation (Marvin as actor), and that nothing is as it appears.
Unable to speak or hear, Marvin must rely solely on sight as a
means to perceive reality. Concurrently, since he has no voice (a
symbolic mirroring of the voicelessness of black masculinity in racist
culture during the 1930s) he must think and feel through the body.
Richard Dyer's critical assessment ofPaul Robeson in HeavenlyBodies:
Film Stars and Society calls attention to the way representations of
black folks in the white imagination are a "site where the problem of
the body is worked through":
Representations ofblacksthenfunction as thesite ofremembering
and denying the inescapability of th~ body in the economy.
Hence, on the one hand, the black body as a reminderofwhatthe
body can do, its vitality, its strength, its sensuousness, and yet,
simultaneously, the denial ofall that bodily energy and delight as
creative and productive...
Conversely, to subvert the negation of the black body that is
imposed by white supremacy, representations by black people claim
that creative potential, glorifying it. Even though the fair-skinned,
handsome Marvin, is the bad guy, his body is constructed as the object
of a desiring black female gaze. Challenging dominant cinematic
practices that position woman as the object of male gaze, Micheaux
acknowledges female desire, exploiting it to create interest in Marvin's
character. His body is excessively objectified, all the more so because
he does not speak. Asserting a masculine presence that is profoundly
physical, embodying a s~nseof threat and menace, he is a seductive
villain. Micheauxboth critiques and celebrates this black male physi
cality. Beginning his professional life as a Pullman porter, respectable
employment (the train scene represents the inclusion in the film of his
personal history), he is identified with that organization of black men
who militantly resisted racist discrimination in the work force. Yet
Micheaux knew all too well that it was easy within a racist society for
black men to fall into disrepute, to end up like Marvin on the chain
gang. It is only when the fUm is about to end that we learn from a letter
Marvin's mother writes, rebuking him for persecuting the beautiful
Letha, that he has been on the chain gang, a site where white domination
overthe black male bodyis expressed byexcessive exploitationoftheir
physical labor. Many chain gangs composed solely of black men did
t.ije arduous labor on railroads, laying tracks, making repairs.
Micheaux's inclusion of these historical references (that would have
73. 138 139
BLACK LOOKS
been immediately understood by his audience) situate representations
of black male "Criminality" in a social and political context, contesting
notions of inherent biological propensity of evil perpetuated in radst
ideology, in white cinema.
Even though Marvin is a sympathetic character, he is depicted as
dangerous, exhibiting all the characteristics of "the demon lover." He
has returned to old haunts to kill the woman who betrayed him by
turning him over to the authorities. Robin Morgan's deSCription of "the
deadly hero" in The Demon Lovercould be a proflle of Marvin:
Valorous, abnegating his own selfhood and severed from that
of others, disconnected from a living logic and the pathos of
emotional commitments, recognizing only the redeeming
ecstasy of a tragiC death, the hero already lives as a dead man.
As a dead man he is fearless, because as a dead man he is
unconquerable by any life force.
Throughout Ten Minutes To Live, Marvin resurfaces as though from the
dead. His inability to speak reinforces the sense that he has no ties with
human community, as it is language that affIrms this bonding. Able to
express himselfto others onlybywriting, he terrorizes Letha bysending
her threatening messages, "death warrants," to let her know that she is
his prey, hunted by an old love who intends to show no mercy.
Inverting the popular myth of embittered revengeful womanhood
betrayed and scorned by man, Micheaux implies that it is really the
black male, personified by Marvin, who will be betrayed and
manipulated.
In keeping with his critique of a color caste that sees the
fair-skinned black woman as more desirable and worthy of love,
Micheaux's "vamp" Charlotte could pass for white. Jewish-American
actress Theda Bara, whose real name was Theodosia Goodman,
brought the image of the vamp to Hollywood and popularized it.
Woman as ''vamp'' was depicted as an adventuress, alluring, entidng,
dangerous; vamp was short for vampire. She had the power to seduce
and destroy men. In Girls on Film, Julie Burchill critically examines the
cinematic portrait ofwoman as vamp, emphasizing that this character
was often portrayed as dark in contrast to white:
The vamp was a beacon and a blessing in the cinema, the apex of
what a woman on the screen can be. The vamp was beautiful and
strong; she made helplessness, which previously and ever since
has been the desirable norm for girls on film, look insipid and
Micheaux's Films
uninspiring. She came from nowhere and she walked alone. The
vamp was a rhapsody and a revolution.
Micheaux offers the viewers images of woman as "vamp" and as
helpless damsel in distress through his juxtaposition of the characters
Charlotte and Letha. Again, as though to counter the radsm of main
stream cinema, his vamp is the fair-skinned, white-woman-Iook-alike.
Marvin's inability to distinguish between Charlotte and Letha, to
know which woman is vamping and betraying him, is Micheaux's way
to once again problematize the question of representation and our
capacity to know reality via the senses. How can we judge good and
evil if so much that appears to be one thing is really the other? His
answer ofcourse is to sharpen and intensify one's capacity for percep
tion, to learn to be more aware. Employing diverse images of black
womanhood, Micheaux encourages audiences to resist the urge to
construct a totalizing vision of woman, one that sees the female as
embodying all that is evil, licentious, and morally corrupt. An advocate
of rights for women, Micheaux created a space in dnema where black
women could be portrayed as desiring subjects; he countered the
demeaning images of black femaleness in Hollywood cinema. In his
films, blackwomen's bodies are celebrated--plump or thin, light or dark
(though they were never "too" dark), they are sensual and desirable.
Careful in Ten Minutes to Live to distinguish between the image
ofwoman as "vamp"who uses herbodyas a seductiveweapon to exert
power over men, and the representation of a liberated image of the
sensuaVsexual black woman who is at home in her body, Micheaux
remains one ofthe few filmmakers to portray blackwomen's bodies in
a manner that does not invite a phallocentric violating gaze. Without
allying himself with idealized representations of "innocent" woman
hood, he portrays Letha as a virtuous woman who is also glamorous,
and therefore desirable. In "Living dolls and 'real' Women," published
in The Power of the Image, Annette Kuhn offers this account of
glamour'S allure:
Glamour is understood generally to imply a sense of deceptive
fascination, of groomed beauty, of charm enhanced by means of
illusion. Aglamorous/glamorized image then is one manipulated,
falsified perhaps, in order to heighten or even idealize. Aglamor
ous image of a woman (or an image of a glamorous woman) is
peculiarly powerful in that it plays on the desire of the spectator
in a particularly pristine way: beauty or sexuality is desirable to
the extent that it is idealized and unattainable.
74. 140 141
BIACKLOOKS
Micheaux employs this notion ofglamour in his representation of" ..
Letha. One of longest scenes in Ten Minutes to Live shows Letha
returning to her bedroom in a boarding house to change clothes. There,
fully made-up, gazing at herself in the mirror of her vanity table (all
images that identify her as using cosmetics to create glamour), attired
in beautiful lingerie and dressing gown, she dresses for an evening out.
Unself-consciously adorned, Letha maintains an aura of naIvete even
though she is not innocent. That aura is not disrupted by the presence
of Marvin, who has entered her space, violating her privacy, for she
does not know "that her integrity is threatened until the front door slams
as he escapes.
Fully adorned, the glamorous Letha meets her current dark
skinned male admirer, Anthony, in a nightclub. She shows him another
terrorizing message from Marvin, one that says she has only "ten
minutes to live." That they should go nightclubing when her life is
endangered seems outrageously melodramatic, yet Micheaux's tactic is
always to reproduce an image of the real in the context of the bizarre.
Such is the nature ofintrigue. It requires a combination of the ordinary
and the fantastic. In his films, nightclubs are the perfect settings to
introduce this mixture, representing as they do sites of transgression,
existing on the boundaries of morally sanctioned social life. Seeing
nightclubs as non-hegemOnic, non-homogenous spaces where class/caste
barriers were crossed in the realm of pleasure, Jimenez comments:
The song-dance sequences in black films lifted the film out
of social reality. relieved the tensions of having to maintain
racial consciousness, and broke the chains of unrealistic,
narrative developments. The nightclub was a playspace, a
dystopia, not a space that was no-where, but a disaSSOciated,
discontinuous realm.
In Ten Minutes To LiveMicheaux includes a song and dance sequence
in the nightclub scene that at first glance seems in no way connected
to the suspenseful drama. It is however as much a clue hinting atthe
film's subtext as any other scene in the movie.
In the nightclub, Letha talks quietly to Anthony, encouraging him
to wait, even though- they are waiting for death. He replies, "Are you
mad enough to think I'm going to sit here and let you, the woman I
love-the woman I've always loved, be killed by this madman?" This
melodramatic, passionate declaration and its underlying eroticism can
be expressed in the nightclub setting as the sexual tension it arouses;
the desire can be displaced onto the dancers. Letha and Anthony's
Micheaux's Films
passionate talk is interrupted by the master of ceremonies' announce
ment: "And now we introduce you to a little bit of the jungle-'Spirit of
the Jungle:" Suddenly, skimpily dressed black women of all sizes and
shades appear and begin to dance. Their body movements resemble
those of Josephine Baker, calling attention to their breasts, legs, and
.asses. Yet this display does not evoke pornographic gazes from folks
in the nightclub, it is presented not as exposure of the taboo sexuality
but as comfortable expression of bodily delight. Like Baker, Mlcheaux
sees the black body as a site where nakedness and eroticism are not
considered shamefulrealities to be hidden and masked.
Though the biography Jazz Cleopatra by Phyllis Rose assaults
Baker's life and work, now and then, it offers tidbits of useful informa
tion. This is particularly so in passages that address Baker's theorizing
ofthe body and its relation to eroticism. Attempting to describe Baker's
sense of the body, particularly the rear end, and documenting Baker's
words, Rose comments:
She handled it as though it were an instrument, a rattle some
thing apart from herself that she could shake. One can hardly
overemphasize the importance of the rear end. Baker herself
declared that people had been hiding their asses too long. 'The
rearend exists. I see no reason to be ashamed of it. It's true that
there are rear ends so stupid, so pretentious, so insignificant
that they're good only for sitting on.' With Baker's triumph, the
erotic gaze of a nation moved downward: she had uncovered
a new region for desire.
Rose lacks the knowledge ofblack culture that would.enable her
to decode the subtext of Baker's comments as well as an informed
perspective on race that would have enabled her to understand that
"asses" have always been eroticized in black sexual iconography, that
within black folk culture the asses that are ridiculed and mocked are
those of whites, called names like "ironing board butts.» Hence, only
the gaze ofthe white segmentofthe nation was transformed by Baker's
assertion of bodily passion in dance.
" Though associated with the "jungle," all the dancers in
Micheaux's sequence are light-skinned, some white enough to pass.
Yet by connecting this image with a jungle experience, he affirms an
unbroken diaspooc bond with Africa that has not been severed by
assimilation. Atavism, as expressed in this dance routine, glorifies the
connection to Africa. As Dyer put it in his essay on Robeson, atavism is
often rooted in "the idea ofthe black race as a repOsitory of uncontam~
75. 142 143
BLACK LOOKS
inated feelings." Though he acknowledges that the atavistic image in
the white imagination is similar to that in black folk culture, as a sign it
has different meanings in the black context. In the black imagination,
atavism was primarily connected to a counter-hegemonic sense of
history, wherein the African past, which white supremacy had taught
blacks to despise, was now revered and seen as a site for "the recovery
ofqualities and values held by one's ancestors."
After the dancers evoke an atavism that is about ancestor
acknowledgment, Letha emphasizes her familial legacy. She ex
plains to Anthony that she has received spiritual guidance from her
mother in a dream:
Last night, I dreamed of mother, my poor dear mother, who is
dead. She came to me in my sleep and told me not to run away.
"Be calm my baby. Place your trust in God. Something terrible is
going to happen. Have faith my daughter, have faith."
Trusting in the wisdom ofher mother, Letha refuses to listen to either
the patriarchal voice that threatens or the one that encourages her
to flee, offering to Anthony a paradigm for romantic love that is
rooted in trust.
Contrary to the Freudian conceptualization of subjectivity
wherein, as Jane Gallop describes it in Thinking Througb The Body,
"universal ambivalence toward the mother is made up of a universal
primary attachment to the motheras nurturerand universal disappoint
ment in the mother," Micheaux's drama suggests that it is only by
maintaining a connection to the mother t!Jat is not tainted by suspicion
that the adult child receives her unme'diated wisdom and guidance.
Both Letha and Marvin are rescued after they listen to the mothers'
voices. The possibility ofdisappointment rests not with the mother but
with the child who may lack the ability to recognize "truth" and
therefore reality. Marvin's mother informs him in a letter that Charlotte
is the vamp who has betrayed him for monetary rewards even as she
castigates him for being a "fool." As in other Micheaux ftlms that have
feminist implications, his representations of maleness challenge the
patriarchal construction of masculinity as powerful and all knowing.
The men in Ten Minutes To Live lack insight. They can only apprehend
the worldfully, grasp the true nature ofrealitybylearning fromwomen.
Letha and Marvin are spiritually renewed when they listen to the
mother's voice. Escaping after he has revenged himself against Char
lotte, Marvinwrites a note ofapology to Letha. This expression ofregret
Micheaux's Films
enables him to reconnect with human community. His representation
as "villain" is mediated by this confession ofwrongdoing.
Ten Minutes To Live exploits all the conventions of simplistic
melodrama even as it interrogates, on multiple levels, issues of repre
sentation. Nothing appears on the screen to be as Simplistic as it often
seems in everydaylife. The capacity ofindividuals to discern good and
evil, to distinguish that which is desirable and that which threatens is
interrogated. Micheauxlets the audience know howeasilyperceptions
are manipulated. Representing the ultimate villain, Charlotte, who is
white enough to pass, stands in contrast to the romantic trusting lover
Anthony who is dark-skinned. Micheaux subtly urges black spectators
to re-evaluate the internalized racism that leads them to respect white
or light skin and devalue blackness. Simultaneously, he urges us to
claim the past, symbolized by the body of the mother-the mother
tongue, the mother land. It is a call for a celebration ofblackness in all
its diversityandcomplexity-forthatlevel ofcollectiveself-recognition
thatbringsdarityandinsight, thatallowsfor reunion and reconciliation.
76. · ~
't,
Chapter 9
~
Is Paris Burning?
There was a time in my life when I liked to dress up as a male and
go out into the world. It was a form of ritual, of play. It was also about
power. To cross-dress as a woman in patriarchy-then, more so than
now-was also to symbolically cross from the world of powerlessness
into a world of privilege. It was the ultimate, intimate, voyeuristic
gesture. Searching old journals for passages documenting that time, I
found this paragraph:
She pleaded with him, 'Just once, well every now and then, I just
want us to be boys together. I want to dress like you and go out
and make the world look at us differently, make them wonder
about us, make them stare and ask those silly questions like is he
a woman dressed up like a man, is he an older black gay man with
his effeminate boy/girl lover flaunting same-sex love out in the
open. Don't worry I'll take it all very seriously, I want to let them
laugh at you. I'll make it real, keep them guessing, do It in such a
way that they will never know for sure. Don't worry when we
come home I will be a girl for you again but for now I want us to
be boys together."
Cross-dressing, appearing in drag, transvestism, and transsexualism
emerge in a context where the notion of subjectivity is challenged,
where identity is always perceived as capable of construction, inven
tion, change. Long before there was ever a contemporary feminist
movement, the'sitesofthese experiencesweresubversive placeswhere
gender norms were questioned and challenged.
145
77. 146 147
BLACK LOOKS
Within white supremacist, capitalist patriarchy the experience of
men dressing as women, appearing in drag, has always been regarded
by the dominant heterosexist cultural gaze as a sign that one is symbol
ically crossing over from a realm of power into a realm of powerless
ness. Just to look at the many negative ways the word "drag" is defmed
reconnects this label to an experience that is seen as burdensome, as
retrograde and retrogressive. To choose to appear as "female" when
one is "male" is always constructed in the patriarchal mindset as a loss,
as a choice worthy only of ridicule. Given this cultural backdrop, it is
not surprising that many black comedians appearing on television
screens for the first time included as part of their acts impersonations
of black women. The black woman depicted was usually held up as
an object of ridicule, scorn, hatred (representing the "female" image
everyone was allowed to laugh at and show contempt for). Often the
moment when a black male comedian appeared in drag was the most
successful segment ofa given comedian's act(forexample, FlipWilson,
Redd Foxx, or Eddie Murphy).
I used to wonder if the sexual stereotype of black men as overly
sexual, manly, as "rapists," allowed black males to cross this gendered
boundary more easily than white men without having to fear that they
would be seenas pOSSiblygayortransvestites. As ayoung blackfemale,
I found these images to be disempowering. They seemed to both allow
black males to give public expression to a general misogyny, as well as
to a more specific hatred and contempt toward blackwoman. Growing
up in a world where black women were, and still are, the objects of
extreme abuse, scorn, and ridicule, I felt these impersonations were
aimed at reinforcing everyone's power over, uSi
IIi retrospect, I can see
that the black male in drag was also a disempowering image of black
masculinity. Appearing as a "woman" within a sexist, racist media was
a way to become in "play" that "castrated" silly childlike black male that
racist white patriarchy was comfortable having as an image in their
homes. These televised images of black men in drag were never
subversive; they helped sustain sexism and racism.
It came as no surprise to me that Catherine Clement in her book
Opera, or the Undoing ofWomen would include a section about black
men and the way their representation in opera did not allow her to
neatly separate the world into gendered polarities where men and
women occupied distinctly different social spaces and were "two
antagonistic halves, one persecuting the other since before the dawn
of time." Looking critically at images of black men in operas she found
that they were most often portrayed as victims:
Is Paris Burning?
Eve is undone as a woman, endlessly bruised, endlessly dying and
coming back to life to die even better. But now I begin to
remember hearing figures of betrayed, wounded men; men who
have women's troubles happen to them; men who have the status
of Eve, as if they had lost their innate Adam. These men die like
heroines; down on the ground they cry and moan, they lament.
And like heroines they are surrounded by real men, veritable
Adams who have cast them down. They partake of femininity:
excluded, marked by some initial strangeness. They are doomed
to their undoing.
Many heterosexual black men in white supremacist patriarchal
culture have acted as though the primary "evil" of racism has been the
refusal of the dominant culture to allow them full access to patriarchal
power, so that in sexist terms they are compelled to inhabit a sphere of
powerlessness, deemed "feminine," hence they have perceived them
selves as emasculated. To the extent that black men accept a white
supremacist sexist representation of themselves as castrated, without
phallic power, and therefore pseudo-females, they will need to overly
assert a phallic misogynist masculinity, one rooted in contempt for the
female. Much black male homophobia is rooted in the desire to eschew
connection with all things deemed "feminine" and that WOUld, of
course, include black gay men. A contemporary black comedian like
Eddie Murphy "proves" his phallic power by daring to publicly ridicule
women and gays. His days of appearing in drag are over. Indeed it is
the drag queen of his misogynist imagination that is most often the
image of black gay culture he evokes and subjects to comic homophobic
assault-one that audiences collude in perpetuating.
For black males to take appearing in drag seriously, be they gay
or straight, is to oppose a heterosexist representation of black man
hood. Gender bending and blending on the part of black males has
always been a critique of phallocentric masculinity in traditional black
experience. Yet the subversive power of those images is radically
altered when informed by a racialized fictional construction of the
"feminine" that suddenly makes the representation of whiteness as
crucial to the experience offemale impersonation as gender, that is to
say when the idealized notion of the female/feminine is really a sexist
idealization of white womanhood. This is brutally evident in Jennie
Livingston's new film Paris Is Burning. Within the world of the black
gay drag ball culture she depicts, the idea ofwomanness and femininity
is totally personified by whiteness. What viewers witness is not black
78. 148 149
BLACK LOOKS
men longing to impersonateoreventobecomelike "real" blackwomen
but theirobsession with an idealized fetishized vision offemininity that
is white. Called out in the film by Dorian Carey, who names it by saying
no black drag queen of his day wanted to be Lena Home, he makes it
clear that the femininity most sought after, most adored, was that
perceived to be the exclusive property ofwhitewomanhood. Whenwe
see visual representations ofwomanhood in thefUm (images tom from
magazines and posted on walls in living space) they are, with rare
exceptions, ofwhite women. Significantly, the fixation on becoming as
much like a white female as possible implicitly evokes a connection to
a figure never visible in this film: that of the white male patriarch. And
yet if the class, race, and gender aspirations expressed by the drag
queens who share their deepest dreams is always the longing to be in
the pOSition of the ruling-class woman then that means there is also the
desire to act in partnership with the ruling-class white male.
This combination of class and race longing that privileges the
"femininity" of the ruling-class white woman, adored and kept,
shrouded in luxury, does not imply a critique of patriarchy. Often it
is assumed that the gay male, and most specifically the "queen," is
both anti-phallocentric and anti-patriarchal. Marilyn Frye's essay,
"Lesbian Feminism and Gay Rights," remains one of the most useful
critical debunkings of this myth. Writing in The Politics ofReality,
Frye comments:
One of things which persuades the straight world that gay men
are not really men is the effeminacyofstyle ofsome gay men and
the gay institution ofthe impersonation ofwomen, both ofwhich
are associated in the popular mind with male homosexuality. But
as Iread it, gay men'seffeminacyand donningoffeminine apparel
displays no love ofor identification with women or the womanly.
For the most part, this femininity is affected and is characterized
by theatrical exaggeration. It is a casual and cynical mockery of
women, for whom femininity is the trapping ofoppression, but it
is also a kind ofplay, a toying with that which is taboo...What gay
male affectation of femininity seems to be is a serious sport in
which men may exercise their power and control over the femi
nine, much as in othersports...But the mastery of the feminine is
not feminine. It is masculine.. .
Any viewer of Paris is Burning can neither deny the way in which
its contemporary drag balls have the aura of sports events, aggressive
competitions, one team (in this case "house") competing against another
etc., nor ignore the way in which the male "gaze" in the audience is
Is Paris Burning?
directed at patticipants ina manner akin to the objectifying phallicstare
Straight men direct at "feminine" women daily in public spaces. Paris
is Burning is a film that many audiences assume is inherently opposi
tional because of its subject matter and the identity of the filmmaker.
Yet the film's politiCS of race, gender, and class are played out in ways
that are both progressive and reactionary.
When I first heard that therewas this newdocumentary film about
blackgay men, drag queens, and drag balls Iwas fascinated by the title.
It evoked images of the real Paris on fire, of the death and destruction
of a dominating white western civilization and culture, an end to
oppressive Eurocentrism and white supremacy. This fantasy not only
gave me a sustained sense of pleasure, it stood between me and the
unlikely reality that a young white filmmaker, offering a progressive
vision of"blackness" from thestandpoint of"whiteness,"wouldreceive
the positive press accorded Livingston and her film. Watching Paris is
Burning, Ibegan to think that themanyyuppie-looking, straight-acting,
pushy, predominantly white folks in the audience were there because
the film in no way interrogates "whiteness." These folks left the film
saying it was "amazing," "marvelous," "incredibly funny," worthy of
statements like, "Didn't you just love it?" And no, I didn't just love it. For
in many ways the film was a graphic documentary portrait of the way
in which colonized black people (in this case black gay brothers, some
ofwhom were drag queens) worship at the throne ofwhiteness, even
when such worship demands that we live in perpetual self-hate, steal,
lie, go hungry, and even die in its pursuit. The "we" evoked here is all
of us, black people/people of color, who are daily bombarded by a
powerful colonizing whiteness that seduces us away from ourselves,
that negates that there is beauty to be found in any form of blackness
that is hot imitation whiteness.
The whiteness celebrated in Paris is Burning is not just any old
brand ofwhiteness but rather that brutal imperial ruling-class capitalist
patriarchal whiteness that presents itself-its way of life--as the only
meaningful life there is. What could be more reassuring to a white
public fearful that marginalized disenfranchised black folks might rise
any day now and make revolutionary black liberation struggle a reality
than a documentary aff1lTl1ing that colonized, victimized, exploited,
-blackfolks are all too willing to be complicit in perpetuating the fantasy
that ruling-class white culture is the quintessential site of unrestricted
joy, freedom, power, and pleasure. Indeed it is the very "pleasure" that
so manywhite viewerswith class privilege experience when watching
79. 150 BLACK LOOKS
this film that has acted to censor dissenting voices who fmd the film
and its reception critically problematic.
In Vincent Canby's review of the fllm in the New York Times he
begins by quoting the words of a black father to his homosexual son.
The father shares that it is difficult for black men to survive in a racist
society and that "if you're black and male and gay, you have to be
strongerthanyou canimagine.» Beginninghisoverwhelmingly positive
review with the words ofa Straight black father, canby implies that the
film in some way documents such strength, is a portrait of black gay
pride. Yet he in no way indicatesways this pride and powerare evident
in the work. Like most reviewers of the film, what he finds most
compelling is the pageantry of the drag balls. He uses no language
identifying race and class perspectives when suggesting at the end of
his piece that behind the role-playing"there is also a terrible sadness
in the testimony.» Canby does not identify fully the sources of this
sadness; instead he states, "The queens knock themselves out to imitate
the members ofa society that will not have them.» This makes it appear
that the politics of ruling-class white culture are solely social and not
political, solely "aesthetic" questions of choke and desire rather than
expressions of power and privilege. Canby does not tell readers that
much of the tragedy and sadness of this mm is evoked by the willing
ness of black gay men to knock themselves out imitating a ruling-class
culture and power elite that is one of the primary agents of their
oppression and exploitation. Ironically, the very "fantasies" evoked
emerge from the colonizing context, and while marginalized people
often appropriate and subvert aspects of the dom:tn::mt culture, Paris is
Burningdoes not forcefully suggest that such a process is taking place.
Livingston's film is presented as though it is a politically neutral
documentary providing a candid, even celebratory, look at black drag
balls. And it is precisely the mood of celebration that masks the extent
to which the balls are not necessarily radical expressions ofsubversive
imaginationatwork undermining andchallengingthe statusquo.Much
of the film's focus on pageantry takes the ritual of the black drag ball
and makes it spectacle. Ritual is that ceremonial act that carries with it
meaning and significance beyond what appears, while spectacle func
tions primarily as entertaining dramatic display. Those of us who have
grown up in a segregatedblacksetting wherewe participatedin diverse
pageants and rituals know that those elements ofa given ritual that are
empowering and subversive may not be readily visible to an outsider
looking in. Hence it is easy for white observers to depict black rituals
as spectacle.
Is Paris Burning? 151
Jennie Livingston approaches her subject matter as an outsider
looking in. Since her presence as white womanllesbian filmmaker is
"absent" from Paris isBurningit is easyforviewers to imagine that they
are watching an ethnographic film documenting the life of black gay
"natives" and not recognize that they are watching a work shaped and
formed by a perspective and standpoint specific to Livingston. By
cinematically masking this reality (we hearherask questions but never
see her), Livingston does not oppose the way hegemOnic whiteness
"represents" blackness, but rather assumes an imperial overseeing
position that is in no way progressive orcounter-hegemonic. By shooting
the film using a conventionalapproach to documentary and not making
clearhow herstandpoint breaks with this tradition, Livingston assumes
a privileged location of '~innocence." She is represented both in inter
views and reviews as the tender-hearted, mild-mannered, virtuous
whitewoman daring toventure intoa contemporary"heart ofdarkness"
to bring back knowledge of the natives.
A review in the New Yorker declares (with no argument to
substantiate the assertion) that "the movie is a sympathetic observation
of a specialized, private world." An interview with Livingston in Out
week is titled "Pose, She Said" and we are told in the preface that she
"discovered the Ball world by chance.» Livingston does not discuss her
interest and fascination with black gay subculture. She is not asked to
speak about what knowledge, information, or lived understanding of
black culture and historyshe possessed that provided a background for
her work or to explain what vision of black life she hoped to convey
and to whom. can anyone imagine that a black woman lesbian would
make a film about white gay subculture and not be asked these
questions? Livingston is asked in the Oufweekinterview, "How did you
build up the kind of trust where people are so open to talking about
their personal experiences?" She never answers this question. Instead
she suggests that she gains her "credibility" by the intensity of her
spectatorship, adding, "I also targeted people whowere articulate, who
had stuff they wanted to say and were very happy that anyone wanted
to listen.» Avoiding the difficult questions underlying what it means to
be a white person in a white supremacist society creating a film about
any aspect of black life, Livingston responds to the question, "Didn't
the fact that you're a white lesbian going into a world of Black queens
and street kids make that [the interview process] difficult?" by implicitly
evoking a shallow sense ofuniversal connection. She responds, "Ifyou
know someone over a period of two years, and they still retain their
sex and their race, you've got to be a pretty sexist, racist person.» Yet it
(
80. 152 153
BLACK LOOKS
. 'i~ precisely the'race, sex, and sexual practices of black men who' are
filmed that is the exploited subject matter.
So far I have read no interviews where Livingston discusses the
issue of appropriation. And even though she is openly critical of
Madonna, she does not'convey how her work differs from Madonna's
appropriation of black experience. To some extent it is precisely the
recognition by mass culture that aspects of black life, like "voguing,"
fascinate white audiences that creates a market for both Madonna's
product and livingston's. Unfortunately, livingston's comments about
Paris is Burning do not convey serious thought about either the
political and aesthetic implications of her choice as a white woman
focusing on an aspect ofblack life and culture or the way radsm might
shape and inform how she would interpret black experience on the
screen. Reviewers like Georgia Brownin the Village Voice who suggest
that Livingston's whiteness is "a fact of nature that didn't hinder her
research" collude in the denial of the way whiteness informs her
perspective and standpoint. To say, as Livingston does, "I certainly
don't have the final word on the gay black experience. I'd love for a
black director to have made this film" is to oversimplify the issue and
to absolve her of responsibility and accountability for progressive
critical reflection and it implidtly suggests that there would be no
difference between her work and that of a black director. Underlying
this apparently self-effacing comment is cultural arrogance, for she
implies not only thatshe has cornered the market on the subject matter
but that being able to make fIlms is a question of personal choice, like
she just "discovered" the "raw material" before a black director did. Her
comments are disturbing because they reveal so little awareness of the
politics that undergird any commodification of "blackness" in this society.
Had Livingston approached her subject with greater awareness
of the way white supremacy shapes cultural production-deterrnining
not only what representations of blackness are deemed acceptable,
marketable, as well worthy of seeing--perhaps the film would not so
easily have turned the black drag ball into a spectacle for the entertain
ment ofthose presumed to be on the outside ofthis experience looking
in. So much of what is expressed in the film has to do with questions
ofpowerandprivilegeand thewayracism impedes blackprogress(and
certainly the class aspirations of the black gay subculture depicted do
not differ from those ofother poor and underc1ass black communities).
Here, the supposedly "outsider" position is primarily located in the
experience of whiteness. Livingston appears unwilling to interrogate
the way assuming the position of outsider looking in, as well as
Is Paris Buming?
interpreter, can, and often does, pervert and distort one's perspective.
Her ability to assume such a pOSition without rigorous interrogation
ofintent is rooted in the politics of race and racism. Patricia Williams
critiques the white assumption of a "neutral" gaze in her essay
"Teleology on the Rocks" included in her new book The Alchemy of
Race and Rights. Describing taking a walking tour of Harlem with a
group ofwhite folks, she recalls the guide telling them they might "get
to see some services" since "Easter Sunday in Harlem is quite a show."
William's critical observations are relevant to any discussion of Paris
is Burning:
What astonished me was that no one had asked the churches if
they wanted to be stared at like living museums. I wondered what
would happen if a group of blue-jeaned blacks were to walk
uninvited into a synagogue on PassoverorSt. Anthony's ofPadua
during high mass-just to peer, not pray. My feeling is that such
activity j'tould be seen as disrespectful, at the very least. Yet the
aspect of disrespect, intrusion, seemed irrelevant to this weI
educated, affable group ofpeople. Theydeflectedmy observation
with comments like "We just want to look," "No one will mind,"
and "There's no harmintended."As well-intentioned as they were,
I was left with the impression that no one existed for them who
could not be governed by their intentions. While acknowledging
the lack of apparent malice in this behavior, I can't help thinking
that it is a liability as much as a luxury to live without interaction.
To live so completely impervious toone's own impact on others
is a fragile privilege, which over time relies not simply on the
willingness but on the inability of others-in this case blacks-to
make th~ir displeasure heard.
This insightful critique came to mind as I reflected on whywhites
could so outSpokenly make their pleasure in this film heard and the
many black viewers who express discontent, raising critical questions
about how the film was made, is seen, and is talked about, who have
not named their displeasure publicly. Too many reviewers and inter
viewers assume not only that there is no need to raise pressing critical
questions about Livingston'Sfilm, butact as though she somehow did this
marginalized black gay subculture a favorby bringing theirexperience
to a wider public. Such a stance obscures the substantial rewards she
has received for this work. Since so many of the black gay men in the
film express the desire to be big stars, it is easy to place LiVingston in
the role ofbenefactor, offering these "poorblack souls" a way to realize
their dreams..But it is this current trend in producing colorful ethnicity
81. 154 155
BLACK LOOKS
for the white consumer appetite that makes it possible for blackness to
be commodified in unprecedentedways, and for whites to appropriate
black culture without interrogating whiteness or showing concern for
the displeasure of blacks. Just as white cultural imperialism informed
and affirmed the adventurous journeys of colonizing whites into the
countries and cultures of "dark others," it allows white audiences to
applaud representations of black culture, if they are satisfied with the
images and habits of being represented.
Watching the mmwith a blackwoman friend, we !'fere disturbed
by the extent to which white folks around us were "entertained" and
"pleasured" by scenes we viewed as sad and at times tragic. Often
individuals laughed at personal testimony about hardship, pain, lone
liness. Several times I yelled out in the dark: "What is so funny about
this scene? Why are you laughing?" The laughter was never innocent.
Instead it undermined the seriousness of the mm, keeping it always on
the level ofspectacle. And much of the mm helped make this possible.
Moments of pain and sadness were quickly covered up by dramatic
scenes from drag balls, as though there were two competing cinematic
narratives, one displaying the pageantry of the drag ball and the other
reflecting on the lives of participants and value of the fantasy. This
second narrative was literally hard to hear because the laughter often
drowned it out, just as the sustained focus on elaborate displays at balls
diffused the power of the more serious critical narrative. Any audience
hoping to be entertained would not be as interested in the true life
stories and testimonies narrated. Much of the individual testimony
makes it appear that the characters are estranged from any community
beyond themselves. Families, friends, etc., are not shown, which
adds to the representation of these black gay men as cut off, living
on the edge.
It is useful to compare the portraits of their lives in Paris is
Burningwith those depicted in Marlon Riggs' compelling mm Tongues
Untied. At no point in Livingston's film are the men asked to speak
about their connections to ~ world of family and community beyond
the drag ball. The cinematic narrative makes the ball the centeroftheir
lives. And yet who determines this? Is this the way the black men view
their reality or is this the reality Livingston constructs? Certainly the
degree to which black men in this gay subculture are portrayed as cut
offfrom a "real" world heightens the emphasis on fantasy, and indeed
gives Paris is Burning its tragic edge. That tragedy is made explicit
when we are told that the fair-skinned Venus has been murdered, and
yet there is no mourning ofhimlher in the film, no intense focus on the
Is Paris Burning?
sadness of this murder. Having served the purpose of "spectacle" the
film abandons him/her. The audience does not see Venus after the
murder. There are no scenes of grief. To put it crassly, her dying is
upstaged by spectacle. Death is not entertaining.
For those ofus who did not come to this mm as voyeurs of black
gay subculture, it is Dorian Carey's mOving testimony throughout the
mm that makes Paris is Burning a memorable experience. Carey is
both historian and cultural critic in the mm. He explains how the balls
enabled marginalized black gay queens to empower both participants
and audience. It is Carey who talks about the Significance of the "star"
in the life ofgayblackmen who are queens. In a mannersimilarto critic
Richard Dyer in his work Heavenly Bodies, Carey tells viewers that the
desire for stardom is an expression of the longing to realize the dream
of autonomous stellar individualism. Reminding readers that the idea
of the individual continues to be a major image ofwhat it means to live
in a democratic world, Dyerwrites:
Capitalism justifies itself on the basis of the freedom (separate
ness) of anyone to make money, sell their labor how they will, to
be able to express opinions and get them heard (regardless of
wealth or social position). The openness ofsociety is assumed by
the waythat we are addressed as individuals-as consumers (each
freely choosing to buy, or watch, what we want), as legal subjects
(equally responsible before the law), as political subjects (able to
make up our minds who is to run society). Thus even while the
notion of the individual is assailed on all sides, it is a necessary
fiction for the reproduction ofthe kind ofsocietywe live in...Stars
articulate these ideas of personhood.
Thisis preciselythe notion ofstardomCareyarticulates. Heemphasizes
the way consumer capitalism undermines the subversive power ofthe
drag balls, subordinatingritual tospectacle, removingtllewill to display
unique imaginative costumes and the purchased image. Carey speaks
profoundly about the redemptive power of the imagination in black
life, that drag ballswere traditionallya placewhere the aesthetics ofthe
image in relation to black gay life could be explored with complexity
and grace.
Carey extols the Significance of fantasy even as he critiques the
use offantasy to escape reality. Analyzing the place offantasy in black
gaysubculture, he links that experience to the longing for stardom that
is so pervasive in this society. RefuSing to allow the "queen" to be
Othered, he conveys the message that in all of us resides that longing
to transcend the boundaries ofself, to be glorified. Speaking about the
82. 156 BLACK LOOKS
i!Dl'?rtance ofdrag queens in a recent interview in Afterimage, Marlon
Riggs suggests that the queen personifies the longing evetyone'has for
love and recognition. Seeing in drag queens "a desire, a vety visceral
need to be loved, as well as a sense of the abjectloneliness oflifewhere
nobody loves you," Riggs contends "this image is real for anybodywho
has been in the bottom spot where they've been rejected byevetybody
and loved by nobody." Echoing Carey, Riggs declares: ~What's real for
them is the realization that you have to learn to love yourself." Carey
stresses that one can only learn to love the self when one breaks
through illusion and faces reality, not by escaping into fantasy. Empha
sizing that the point is not to give us fantasy but to recognize its
limitations, he acknowledges that one must distinguish the place of
fantasy in ritualized play from the use offantasy as a means ofescape.
Unlike Pepper Labeija who constructs a mythic world to inhabIt,
making this his private reality, Carey encourages using the imagination
creativelytoenhanceone'scapacityto live morefully ina worldbeyond
fantasy.
Despite the profound impact he makes, what Riggs would call ~a
visual icon of the drag queen with a vety dignified humanity," Carey's
message, if often muted, is overshadowed by spectacle. It is hard for
viewers to really hear this message. By critiquing absorption in fantasy
and naming the myriad ways pain and suffering inform any process of
self-actualization, Carey's message mediates between the viewer who
longs to voyeuristicly escape into film, to vicariously inhabit that lived
space on the edge, by exposing the sham, by challenging all of us to
confront reality. James Baldwin makes the point in The Fire Next Time
that "people who cannot suffer can never grow up, can never discover
who they are." Withoutbeingsentimentalaboutsuffering, DorianCarey
urges all of us to break through denial, through the longing for an
illusoty star identity, so that we can confront and accept ourselves as
we really are--only then can fantasy, ritual, be a site of seduction,
passion, and play where the self is truly recognized, loved, and never
abandoned or betrayed.
Chapter 10
Madonna
Plantation Mistress or Soul Sister?
Subversion is contextuai, bistorlcal, andaboveallsocial. No matterbow
excitingtbe "destabtltztng"potentialo/texts, bodtlyorotberwise, wbetbertbose
textsaresubverstveorrecuperattve orbotb ornettbercannot be determtned by
abstracttonfrom actualsocialpractice.
-Susan Bordo
White women "stars" like Madonna, Sandra Bernhard, and many
others publicly name their interest in, and appropriation of, black
culture as yet another sign of their radical chic. Intimacy with that
"nasty" blackness good white girls stay away from is what they seek.
To white and other non-black consumers, this gives them a special
flavor, an added spice.Afterall itisa vety recent historical phenomenon
for any white girl to be able to get some mileage out of flaunting her
fascination and envy of blackness. The thing about envy is that it is
always ready to destroy, erase, take-over, and consume the desired
.object. That's exactly what Madonna attempts to do when she appro
priates and commodifies aspects of black culture. Needless to say this
kind offascination isa threat. It endangers. Perhaps that iswhyso many
ofthegrown blackwomen Ispokewith about Madonna had no interest
in her as a cultural icon and said things like, "Thebitch can't even sing."
It was only among young black females that I could find die-hard
Madonna fans. Though I often admire and, yes at times, even envy
Madonna becauseshe has created a culturalspacewhere she caninvent
157
83. 158 BLACK LOOKS
and reinvent herselfand receive publicaffIrmation and material reward,
I do not consider myself a Madonna fan.
Once I read an interview with Madonna where she talked about
her envy of black culture, where she stated that she wanted to be black
as a child. It is a sign of white privilege to be able to "see" blackness
and black culture from a standpoint where only the rich culture of
opposition black people have created in resistance marks and defines
us. Such a perspective enables one to ignore white supremacist domina
tion and the hurt it inflicts via oppression, exploitation, and everyday
wounds and pains. White folks who do not see black pain never really
understand the complexityof black pleasure. And it is no wonder then
that when they attempt to imitate the joy in livingwhich they see as the
"essence" of soul and blackness, their cultural productions may have
an air of sham and falseness that may titillate and even move white
audiences yet leave many black folks cold.
Needless to say, if Madonna had to depend on masses of black
women to maintain her status as cultural icon she would have been
dethroned some time ago. Many of the black women I spoke with
expressedintensedisgust and hatredofMadonna. Mostdid notrespond
to my cautious attempts to suggest that underlying those negative
feelings might lurk feelings of envy, and dare I say it, desire. No black
woman I talked to declared that she wanted to "be Madonna." Yet we
have only to look at the number of black women entertainers/stars
(Tina Turner, Aretha Franklin, Donna Summer, Vanessa Williams,
Yo-Yo, etc.) who gain greater cross-over recognition when they dem
onstrate that, like Madonna, they too, have a healthy dose of "blonde
ambition." Clearly their careers have been influenced by Madonna's
choices and strategies.
For masses of black women, the political reality that underlies
Madonna's and our recognition that this is a society where "blondes'"
not only "have more fun" but where they are more likely to succeed in
any endeavor is white supremacy and racism. We cannot see
Madonna's change in hair color as being merely a question ofaesthetic
choice. I agree with]ulieBurchill in her critical workGlrls on Film,
when she reminds us: "What does it sayabout racial purity that the best
blondes have all been brunettes (Harlow, Monroe, Bardot)?I think it
says that we are notas white as we think: I think it says that Pure is a
Bore." I also know that it is the expressed desire of the non-blonde
Other for those characteristics that are seen as the quintessential markers
of racial aesthetic superiority that perpetuate and uphold white
supremacy. In this sense Madonna has much in common with the
Madonna 159
masses of black women who suffer from internalized racism and are
forever terrorized by a standard of beauty they feel they can never
truly embody.
Like many black women who have stood outside the culture's
fascination with the blonde beauty and who have only been able to
reach it through imitation and artifice, Madonna often recalls that she
was a working-class white-girl who saw herself as ugly, as outside the
mainstream beauty standard. And indeed what-some of us like about
.her is the way she deconstructs the myth of.!'natural",white girl beauty
by exposing the.e.;:tentto.which,iCcan be·and is usually·artificially
constructedand maintained. She mocks the conventional racist defined
beauty ideal even as she rigorously strives to embody it. Given her
obsession with exposing the reality that the ideal female beauty in this
society can beattained byartifice andsocial constructionitshouldcome
as no surprise that many of her fans are gay men, and that the majority
ofnon-white men, particularlyblack men, are among thatgroup.Jennie
Livingston's film Paris Is Burning suggests that many black gay men,
especially queens/divas, are as equally driven as Madonna by "blonde
ambition." Madonna never lets her audience forget that whatever
"look" she acquires is attained by hard work-"it ain't natural.H And as
Burchill comments in her chapter "Homosexual Girls":
I have a friend who drives a cab and looks like a Marlboro Man
but at night is the second best Jean Harlow I have ever seen.
He summed up the kind of film star he adores, brutally and
brilliantly, when he said, "I like actresses who look as jfthey've
spent hours putting themselves together-and even then they
don't look right."
Certainly no one, not even die-hard Madonna fans, ever insists
that her beauty is not attained by skillful artifice. And indeed, a major
point of the documentary film Truth or Dare: In Bed With Madonna
was to demonstrate the amount ofwork that goes into the construction
(
of her image. Yet when the chips are down, the image Madonna most (
exploits is that ofthe quintessential "white girl." To maintain that image
she must always position herself as an outsider in relation to black
culture. It is that position of outsider that enables her to colonize and
appropriate black experience for her own opportunistic ends even as
she attempts to rr.a.sk her acts of radst aggression as affirmation. And
no other group sees that as clearly as black females in this society. For
we have always known that the sodally constructed image of innocent
white womanhood relies on the continued production of the racist/sexist
(
84. BLACK LOOKS
160
sexual myth that blackwomen are notinnocent and nevercanbe. Since
we are coded always as "fallen" women in the racist cultural iconography
we can never, as can Madonna, publicly "work" the image of ourselves
as innocent female daring to be bad. Mainstream culture always reads
the black female body as sign ofsexual experience. In part, many black
womenwho are disgustedbyMadonna'sflaunting ofsexualexperience
are enraged because the very image of sexual agency that she is able
to project and affirm with material gain has been the stick this society
hasused to justifyits continued beatingand assault on the blackfemale
body. The vast majority of black women in the United States, more
concerned with projecting images of respectability than with the idea
of female sexual agency and transgression, do not often feel we have
the "freedom" to act in rebellious ways in regards to sexuality
without being punished. We have only to contrast the life stofY of
Tina Turner with that of Madonna to see the different connotations
"wild" sexual agency has when it is asserted by a black female. Being
represented publicly as an active sexual being has only recently en
abled Turner to gain control over her life and career. For years the
public image of aggressive sexual agency Turner projected belied the
degree to which she was sexually abused and exploited privately. She
was also materially exploited. Madonna's career could not be all that it
is if there were no Tina Turner and yet, unlike her cohort Sandra
Bernhard, Madonna never articulates the cultural debt she owes
black females.
In her most recent appropriations ofblackness, Madonna almost
always imitates phallic black masculinity. Although I read manyarticles
which talked about her appropriating male codes, no critic seems to
have noticed her emphasis on black male experience. In his Playboy
profile, "Playgirl of the Western World," Michael Kelly describes
Madonna's crotch grabbing as "an eloquent visual put-down of male
phallic pride." He points outthat sheworkedwith choreographerVince
Paterson to perfect the gesture. Even though Kelly tells readers that
Madonna was consciously imitating Michael Jackson, he does not
contextualize his interpretation of the gesture to include this act of
appropriation from black male culture. And in that specific context the
groin grabbing gesture is an assertion of pride and phallic domination
that usually takes place in an all male context. Madonna's imitation of
this gesture could just as easily be read as an expression of envy.
Throughout much of her autobiographical interviews runs a
thread of expressed desire to possess the power she perceives men
have. Madonna may hate the phallus, but she longs to possess its
{
Madonna 161
power. She is always first and foremost in competition with men to see
who has the biggest penis. She longs to assert phallic power, and like
every other group in this white supremacist society, she clearly sees
black men as embodying a quality of maleness that eludes white men.
Hence, they are often the group of men she most seeks to imitate,
taunting white males with her own version of "black masculinity."
Whenitcomes toentertainmentrivals, Madonna clearly perceivesblack
male stars like Prince and MichaeIJackson to be the standard against
which she must measure herself and that she ultimately hopes to
transcend.
Fascinated yet envious of black style, Madonna appropriates
black culture in ways that mock and underm,ine, making her presen
tation one that upstages. This is most evident in the video "Like a
Prayer." Though I read numerous articles that discussed public outrage
at this video, none focused on the issue of race. No article called
attention to the fact that Madonna flaunts hersexual agencyby suggesting
that she is breaking the ties that bind her as a white girl to white
patriarchy, and establishing ties with black men. She, however, and not
black men, does the chOOSing. The message is directed at white men.
It suggests that they only labeled black men rapists for fear that white
girls would choose black partners over them. Cultural critics comment
ing on the video did not seem at all interested in exploring the reasons
Madonna chooses a black cultural backdrop for this video, i.e., black
church and religious experience. Clearly, it was this backdrop that
added to the video's controversy.
In her commentary in the Washington Post, "Madonna: Yuppie
Goddess," Brooke Masters writes: "Most descriptions of the controver
sial video focus on its Catholic imagery: Madonna kisses a black saint,
and develops Christ-like markings on her hands. However, the video
is also a feminist fairy tale. Sleeping Beautyand SnowWhite waited for
their princes to come along, Madonna find.$ her own man and wakes
him up." Notice that this writer completely overlooks the issue of race
and gender. That Madonna's chosen prince was a black man is in part
what made the representation potentially shocking and provocative to
a white supremacistaudience. Yet her attempt to exploit and transgress
traditional racial taboos was rarely commented on. Instead critics
concentrated on whether or not she was violating taboos regarding
religion and representation.
In the United States, Catholidsm is most often seen as a religion
that has little or no black followers and Madonna's video certainly
perpetuates this stereotype with its juxtaposition of images of black
85. I
162 BLACK LOOKS
non-Catholic representations with the image of the black saint. Given
the importance ofreligious experience and liberation theologyin black
life, Madonna's use of this imagery seemed particularly offensive. For
she made blackcharactersact incomplicitywithheras she aggressively
flaunted her critique of Catholic manners, her attack on organized
religion. Yet, no black voices that I know of came forward in print
calling attention to the fact that the realm of the sacred that is mocked
in this film is black religious experience, or that this appropriative "use"
of that experience was offensive to many black folk. Looking at the
video with a group of students in my class on the politics of sexuality
where we critically analyze the way race and representations ofblack
ness are used to sell products, we discussed the way in which black
people in the video are caricatures reflecting stereotypes. They appear
grotesque. The only role black females have in this video is to catch
(Le., rescue) the "angelic" Madonna when she is "falling." This is just a
contemporary casting of the black female as Mammy. Made to serve as
supportive backdrop for Madonna's drama, black characters in Like a
Prayer remind one of those early Hollywood depictions of singing
blackslavesinthe greatplantationmoviesorthose ShirleyTemple films
where Bojangles was trotted out to dance with Miss Shirley and spice
up her act. Audiences were notsupposed to be enamored ofBojangles,
they were supposed to see justwhata special little oldwhite girl Shirley
really was. In her own way Madonna is a modem day Shirley Temple.
Certainlyher expressed affinity with black culture enhances hervalue.
Eager to see the documentaryTruth orDarebecause it promised
to focus on Madonna's transgressive sexual persona, which I find
interesting, I was angered by her visual representation of her domina
tion over not white men (certainly not over Warren Beatty or Alek
Keshishian), but people of color and white working-class women. I
was too angered by this to appreciate other aspects of the film I might
have enjoyed. In Truth or Dare Madonna clearly revealed that she
can only think ofexerting poweralong very tracUtional, white suprem
acist, capitalistic, patriarchal lines. That she made people who were
dependent on her for their immediate livelihood submit to herwill was
neither charming nor seductive to me or the other black folks that I
spoke with who saw the film. We thought it tragically ironic that
Madonna would choose as her dance partner a black male with dyed
blonde hair. Perhaps had he appeared less like a white-identified black
male consumed by "blonde ambition" he might have upstaged her.
Instead he was positioned as a mirror, into which Madonna and her
audience couldlookandseeonlya reflection ofherselfand theworship
Madonna 163
of "whiteness" she embocUes-that white supremacist culture wants
everyone to embody. Madonna used her power to ensure that he and
the other non-white women and men who worked for her, as well as
some of the white subordinates would all serve as the backdrop to her
white-girl-makes-good drama. Joking about the film with other black
folks, we commented that Madonna must have searched long and hard
to find a black female that was not a good dancer, one who would not
deflect attention away from her. And it is telling that when the film
directly reflects something other than a positive image ofMadonna, the
camera highlights the rage this black female dancer was suppressing.
It surfaces when the "subordinates" have time offand are "relaxing."
As with most Madonna videos, when critics talk about this fUm
they tend to ignore race. Yet no viewer can look at this film and not
think about race and representation without engaging in forms of
denial.·After choosing a cast ofcharacters from marginalized groups-
non-white folks, heterosexualand gay, and gaywhite folks--Madonna
publicly deScribes them as "emotional cripples." And of course in the
context of the film this description seems borne out by the way they
allow her to dominate, exploit, and humiliate them. Those Madonna
fans who are determined to see her as politically progressive might ask
themselveswhyitis she completelyendorses thoseracist!sexist!classist
stereotypes that almost always attempt to portray marginalized groups
as "defective." Let's face it, by doing this, Madonna is not breaking with
any white supremacist, patriarchal status quo; she is endorsing and
perpetuating it.
Some ofus do not find it hip or cute for Madonna to brag that she
has a "fascistic Side," a side well documented in the film. Well, we did
not see anyofher cute little faSCism in action when itwasWarren Beatty
calling her out in the film. No, there the image ofMadonnawas the little
woman who grins and bears it. No, her "somebody's got to be in charge
side," as she names it, was most expressed in herinteractionwith those
representatives from marginalized groups who are most often victimized
by the powerful. Why is it there is little or no cUscussion ofMadonna as
racist or sexist in her relation to other women? Would audiences be
charmed by some rich white male entertainer telling us he must "play
father" and oversee the actions ofthe less powerful, especiallywomen
and men of color? So why cUd so many people find it cute when
Madonna asserted that she dOminates the inter-racial casts of gay and
heterosexualfolks in herfilm because they are crippled and she "likefsl
to play mother."No, this was not a display offeminist power, this was
86. 164 BLACK LOOKS
the sameold phallic nonsensewithwhite pussyat the center. Andmany
ofus watching were not simply unmoved-we were.outraged.
Perhaps it is a sign of a collective feeling of powerlessness that
many black, non-white, and white viewers of this mm who were
disturbed by the display of racism, sexism, and heterosexism (yes, it's
possible to hire gay people, support AIDS projects, and still be biased
in the direction of phallic patriarchal heterosexuality) in Truth orDare
have said so little. Sometimes it is difficult to find words to make a
critique when we find ourselves attracted by some aspect of a
performer's act and disturbed by others, or when a performer shows
more interestin promoting progressivesocialcauses than is customary.
We may see that performer as above critique. Or we may feel our
critiquewill in no wayintervene on theworship ofthem as a cultural icon.
To say nothing, however, is to be complicit with the very forces
of domination that make "blonde ambition" necessary to Madonna's
success. Tragically, all that is transgressive and potentiallyempowering
to feminist women and men about Madonna's work may be under
mined by all that it contains that is reactionary and in no way uncon
ventional or new. It is often the conservative elements in her work
converging with the status quo that has the most powerful impact. For
example: Given the rampant homophobia in this society and the
concomitant heterosexist voyeuristic obsession with gay lifestyles, to
what extent does Madonna progressively seek to challenge this if she
insists on primarily representing gays as in some way emotionally
handicapped or defective? Or when Madonna responds to the critique
that she exploits gay men by cavalierly stating: "What does exploitation
mean? .. In a revolution, some people have to get hurt. To get people
to change, you have to tum the table over. Some dishes get broken."
I can only say this doesn't sound like liberation to me. Perhaps
when Madonna explores those memories of her white working-class
childhood in a troubled family in a way that enables her to understand
intimatelythe politics ofexploitation, domination, and submission, she
will have a deeper connection with oppositional black culture. If and
when this radical critical self-interrogation takes place, she will have
the power to create new and different cultural productions, work that
will be truly transgressive-acts ofresistance that transform rather than
simply seduce.
Chapter 11
Representations ofWhiteness
in the Black Imagination
Although there has never been any official body of black people
in the United States who have gathered as anthropologists andlor
ethnographers to study whiteness, black folks have, from slavery on,
shared in conversations with one another "special" knowledge of
whiteness gleanedfromdose scrutinyofwhite people. Deemedspecial
because it was not a way of knowing that has been recorded fully in
written material, its purpose was to help black folks cope and survive
in a white supremacist society. For years, black domestic servants,
working in white homes, acting as informants, brought knowledge
back tosegregatedcommunitie5--4ietails,facts, observations,and psycho
analytic readings of the white Other.
Sharing the fascination with difference that white people have
collectively expressed openly (and at times vulgarly) as they have
traveled around the world in pursuit ofthe Other and Otherness, black
peOple, especially those living during the historical period of racial
apartheid and legal segregation, have similarly maintained steadfast
and ongoing curiosity about the "ghosts," "the barbarians," these
strange apparitions they were forced to serve. In the chapter on "Wild
ness" in Shamanism, Colonialism, and The WildMan, Michael Taussig
urges a stretching of our imagination and understanding of the Other
to include inscriptions "on the edge of official history." Naming his
critical project, identifying the passion he brings to the quest to know
more deeply you who are notourselves, Taussig explains:
165
87. 166
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BLACK LOOKS
I am trying to reproduce a mode of perception-a way ofseeing
through a way of talking-figuring the world through dialogue
that comes alive with sudden transformative force in the crannies
of everyday life's pauses and juxtapositions, as in the kitchens of
the Putumayoor inthe streetsaround the church inthe NifiaMaria.
It is always a way of representing the world in the roundabout
"speech" ofthe collage ofthings...It is a mode ofperception that
catches on the debris of history...
I, too, am in search of the debris of history. I am wiping the dust
offpast conversations to remember some ofwhat was shared in the old
days when black folks had little intimate contact with whites, when we
were much more open about the way we connected whiteness with
the mysterious, the strange, and the terrible. Of course, everything has
changed. Now many black people live in the "bush of ghosts" and do
not know themselves separate from whiteness. They do not know this
thing we call "difference.» Systems of domination, imperialism, colo
nialism, and racism actively coerce black folks to internalize negative
perceptions ofblackness, to be self-hating. Many ofus succumb to this.
Yet, blacks who imitate whites (adopting their values, speech, habits
of being, etc.) continue to regard whiteness with suspicion, fear, and
even hatred. This contradictory longing to possess the reality of the
Other, even though that reality is one that wounds and negates, is
expressive of the desire to understand the mystery, to know intimately
through imitation, as though such knowing worn like an amulet, a
mask, will ward away the evil, the terror.
Searching the critical work of post-colonial critics, I found much
writing that bespeaks the continued fascination with the way white
minds, particularly the colonialimperialist traveler, perceive blackness,
and very little expressed interest in representations ofwhiteness in the
black imagination. Black cultural and social critics allude to such
representations in their writing, yet only a few have dared to make
explicit those perceptions of whiteness that they think will discomfort
or antagonize readers. James Baldwin's collection ofessays, Notes ofA
Native Son, explores these issues with a clarity and frankness that is no
longer fashionable in a world where evocations of pluralism and
diversity act to obscure differences arbitrarily imposed and maintained
by white racist domination. AddreSSing the way in which whiteness
exists without knowledge of blackness even as it collectively asserts
control, Baldwin links issues ofrecognition to the practice ofimperialist
racial domination. Writing about being the first black person to visit a
Representations ofWhiteness
Swiss village with only white inhabitants in his essay "Stranger in the
Village,· Baldwin notes his response to the village's yearly ritual of
painting individuals black who were then positioned as slaves and
bOUght so that the villagers could celebrate their concern with converting
the souls of the "natives":
I thought of white men arriving for the first time in an African
village, strangers there, as I am a stranger here, and tried to
imagine the astounded populace touching their hair and mar
veling at the color of their skin. But there is a great difference
between being the first white man to be seen by Africans and
being the first black man to be seen by whites. The white man
takes the astonishment as tribute, for he arrives to conquer and
to convert the natives, whose inferiority in relation to himself
is not even to be questioned, whereas I, without a thought of
conquest, find myself among a people whose culture controls
me, has even, in a sense, created me, people who have cost me
more in anguish and rage than they will ever know, who yet
do not even know of my existence. The astonishment with
which I might have greeted them, should they have stumbled
into my AfrIcan vlllage a few hundred years ago, might have
rejoiced their hearts. But the astonishment with which they
greet me today can only poison mine.
My thinking about representations of whiteness in the black
imagination has been stimulated by classroom discussions about the
way in which the absence of recognition is a strategy that facilitates
making a group the Other. In these classrooms there have been heated
debates among students when white students respond with disbelief,
shock, and rage, as they listen to black students talk about whiteness,
when they are compelled to hear observations, stereotypes, etc., that
are offered as "data" gleaned from close scrutiny.and study. Usually,
white students respond with naive amazement that black people criti
cally assess white people from a standpOint where ''whiteness· is the
privileged signifier. Their amazement that black people watch white
people with a critical "ethnographic" gaze, is itself an expression of
racism. Often their rage erupts because they believe that all ways of
looking that highlight difference subvert the liberal beliefin a universal
subjectivity (we are all just people) that they think will make racism
disappear. They have a deep emotional investment in the myth of
"sameness," evenas their actions reflect the primacy ofwhiteness as a
sign informing who they are and how they think. Many of them are
shocked that black people think Critically about whiteness because
88. 168 169
BLACK LOOKS
racistthinking perpetuatesthe fantasy thatthe Otherwho is subjugated,
who is subhuman, lacks the ability to comprehend, to understand,·to
seethe working of the powerful. Even though the majority of these
students politicallyconsiderthemselvesliberalsand anti-racist, theytoo
unwittingly invest in the sense 6fwhiteness as mystery.
In white supremacist soCiety, white people can "safely" imagine
that they are invisible to black people since the power they have
historically asserted, and even now collectively assert over black people,
accorded them the right to control the black gaze. As fantastic as it may
seem, racist white people find it easy to imagine that black people
cannot see them if within their desire they do not want to be seen by
the dark Other. One mark of oppression was that black folks were
compelledto assume the mantle ofinvisibility, to erase all traces oftheir
subjectivityduring slaveryand the long years ofracial apartheid, so that
they could be better, less threatening servants. An effective strategy of
white supremacist terror and dehumanization during slavery centered
around white control of the black gaze. Black slaves, and later manu
mitted servants, could be brutally punished for looking, for appearing
to observe the whites they were serving, as onlya subject can observe,
or see. To be fully an object then was to lack the capacity to See or
recognize reality. These looking relations were reinforced as whites
cultivated the practice of denying the subjectivity of blacks (the better
to dehumanize and oppress), of relegating them to the realm of the
invisible. Growing up in a Kentucky household where black servants
lived in the same dwelling with the white family who employed them,
newspaper heiress Sallie Bingham recalls, in her autobiography Pas
sion and Prejudice, "Blacks, I realized, were simply invisible to most
white people, except as a pairofhands offering a drink on a silvertray."
Reduced to the machinery of bodily physical labor, black people
learned to appear beforewhites as though theywere zombies, cultivat
ing the habit ofcasting the gaze downward so as not to appear uppity.
To lookdirectlywasan assertionofsubjectivity, equality. Safetyresided
in the pretense of invisibility.
Even though legal racial apartheid no longer is a norm in the
United States, the habits that uphold and maintain institutionalized
white supremacy linger. Since most white people do not have to "see"
black people (constantly appearing on billboards, television, movies,
in magazines, etc.) and they do not need to be ever on guard nor to
observe black people to be safe, they can live as though black people
are invisible, and they can imagine that theyare also invisible to blacks.
Some white people may even imagine there is no·representation of
Representations ofWhiteness
whiteness in the black imagination, especially one that is based on
concrete observation or mythic conjecture. Theythink they are seen by
black folks only as they want to appear. Ideologically, the rhetoric of
white supremacy supplies a fantasy ofwhiteness. Described in Richard
Dyer's essay "White," this fantasy makes whiteness synonymous
with goodness:
Power in contemporary SOCiety habitually passes itself off as
embodied in the normal as opposed to the superior. This is
common to all forms of power, but it works in a peculiarly
seductive way with whiteness, because of the way it seems
rooted, in common-sense thought, in things other than ethnic
difference...Thus it is said (even in liberal textbooks) that there
are inevitable associations of white with light and therefore
safety, and black with dark and therefore danger, and that this
explains racism (whereas one mightwell argue about the sarety
of the cover of darkness, and the danger of exposure to the
light); again, and with more justice, people point to the Jewish
and Christian use of white and black to symbolize good and
evil, as carried still in such expressions as "a black mark,'
"white magic,' "to blacken the character" and so on. Socialized
to believe the fantasy, that whiteness represents goodness and
all that is benign and non-threatening, many white people
assume this is the way black people conceptualize whiteness.
They do not imagine that the way whiteness makes its presence
felt in black life, most often as tcyrrorizing imposition, a power
that wounds, hurts, tortures, is a reality that disrupts the fantasy
of whiteness as representing goodness.
Collectively black people remain rather silent about representa
tions ofwhiteness in the black imagination. As in the old days ofracial
segregation where black folks learned to "wear the mask," many of us
pretend to be comfortable in the face of whiteness only to tum our
backs and give expression to intense levels of discomfort. Especially
talked about is the representation of whiteness as terrorizing. Without
evoking a simplistic essentialist "us and them" dichotomy that suggests
black folks merely invert stereotypical racist interpretations so that
black becomes synonymous with goodness and white with evil, Iwant
to focus on that representation of whiteness that is not formed in
reaction to stereotypes but emerges as a response to the traumatic pain
and anguish that.remains a consequence ofwhite racist dOmination, a
psychic state that informs and shapes the way black folks "see" white
ness. Stereotypes black folks maintain about white folks are not the
only representations of whiteness in the black imagination. They
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BlACK LOOKS
emerge primarily as responses to white stereotypes of blackness. Lor
raine Hansberry argues that black stereotypes of whites emerge as a
trickle-down process ofwhite stereotypes ofblackness, where there is
the projectionontoan Otherall thatwe denyaboutourselves. In Young,
Gifted, and Black, she identifies particular stereotypes about white
people that are commonlycited in black communities and urges us not
to "celebrate this madness in any direction":
Is it not "known" in the ghetto that white people, as an entity, are
"dirty" (especialy white women-who never seem to do their
own deaning); inherently "cruel" (the cold, fierce roots ofEurope;
who else could put aU those people into ovens SCientifically);
"smart" (you really have to hand it to the mJ.'s), and anything but
cold and passionless (because look who has had to live with little
else than their passions in the guise of love and hatred all these
centuries)? And so on.
Stereotypes, however inaccurate, are one form ofrepresentation.
Like fictions, they are created to serve as substitutions, standing in for
what is real. They are there not to tell it like it is but to invite and
encourage pretense. They are a fantasy, a projection onto the Other
that makes them less threatening. Stereotypes abOund when there is
distance. They are an invention, a pretense that one knows when
the steps that would make real knowing possible cannot be taken'
or are not allowed.
. Looking past stereotypes to consider various representations of
whiteness in the black imagination, I appeal to memory, to my earliest
recollections of ways these issues were raised in black life. Returning
to memories ofgrowing up in the social circumstances created by racial
apartheid, to all blackspaceson the edges oftown, Ireinhabita location
where black folks associated whiteness with the terrible, the terrifying,
the terrorizing. White people were regarded as terrorists, especially
those who dared toenterthat segregated space ofblackness. As a child,
I did not know any white people. They were strangers, rarely seen in
our neighborhoods. The "official" white men who came across the
tracks were there to sell products, Bibles and insurance. They terrorized
by economic exploitation. What did I see in the gazes of those white
men who crossed our thresholds that made me afraid, that made black
children unable to speak? Did they understand at all how strange their
whiteness appeared in our living rooms, how threatening? Did they
joumey across the tracks with the same "adventurous" spirit that other
white men carried to Africa, Asia, to those mysterious places theywould
Representations ofWhiteness
one day call the "third world?" Did they come to our houses to meet
the Other face-to-face and enact the colonizer role, dominating us
on our own turf?
Their presence terrified me. Whatever their mission, they looked
too much like the unofficial white men who came to enact rituals of
terror and torture. As a child, I did not know how to tell them apart,
how to ask the "real white people to please stand up." The terror that
I felt is one black people have shared. Whites learn about it second
hand. Confessing in Soul Sister that she too began to feel this terror
after changing her skin to appear "black" and going to live in the south,
Grace Halsell described her altered sense ofwhiteness:
Caught in this climate of hate, I am totally terror-stricken, and I
search my mind to know why I am fearful ofmy own people. Yet
they no longer seem my people, but rather the "enemy" arrayed
in large numbers against me in some hostile territory...My wild
heartbeat is a secondhand kind of terror. I know that I cannot
possibly experience what tbey, the black people, experience...
Black folks raised in the North do not escape this sense of terror.
In her autobiography, Every Good-bye Ain't Gone, ltabari Njeri begins
the narrative of her northem childhood with a memory of southem
roots. Traveling south as an adult to investigate the murder of her
grandfather by white youth who were drag racing and ran him down
in the streets, Njeri recalls that for manyyears "the distantandaccidental
violence that took my grandfather'S life could not compete with the
psychological terror that had begun to engulfmy own." Ultimately, she
begins to link that terror with the history of black people in the United
States, seeing it as an imprint carried from the past to the present:
As I grew older, my grandfather assumed mythiC proportions in
my imagination. Even in absence, he filled my room like music
and watched overme when I was fearful. His fantasized presence
diverted thoughts of my father's drunken rages. With age, my
fantasizing ceased, the image of my grandfather faded. What
lingered was the memory of his caress, the pain of something
missing in my life, wrenched away by reckless white youths. I had
a growing sen~e beginning of an inevitable comprehen
sion--that this SOCiety deals blacks a disproportionate share of
pain and denial.
Njeri's journey takes her through the pain and terror of the past, only
the memories do not fade. They linger as does the pain and bittemess:
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BLACK LOOKS
"Against a backdrop of personal loss, against the evidence of history
that fills me with a knowledge of the hateful behavior ofwhites toward
blacks, Isee the people ofBainbridge. And I cannot trust them. I cannot
absolve them." If it is possible to conquer terror through ritual reenact
ment, that is what Njeri does. She goes back to the scene of the crime,
dares to face the enemy. It is this confrontation that forces the terror of
history to loosen its grip.
To name that whiteness in the black imagination is often a
representation of terror. One must face written histories that erase and
deny, that reinventthe pastto make the presentvision ofracialharmony
and pluralism more plausible. To bear the burden ofmemory one must
willingly journey to places long uninhabited, searching the debris of
history for traces ofthe unforgettable, all knowledge ofwhich has been
suppressed. Njeri laments that "nobody really knows us." She writes,
"So institutionalized is the ignorance of our history, our culture, our
everyday existence that, often, we do not even know ourselves."
Theorizing black experience, we seek to uncover, restore, as well as to
deconstruct, so that new paths, different journeys, are possible. Indeed,
Edward Said, in "Traveling Theory," argues that theory can "threaten
reification, as well as the entire bourgeois system on which reification
depends, with destruction." The call to theorize black experience is
constantly challenged and subverted by conservative voices reluctant
to move from flXed locations. Said reminds us:
Theory...is won as the result of a process that begins when
consciousness first experiences its own terrible ossification in the
general reification of all things under capitalism; then when con
sciousness generalizes (or classes) itselfas something opposed to
other objects, and feels itself as contradiction to (or crisis within)
objectification, there emerges a consciousness of change in the
status quo; fmally, moving toward freedom and fulflliment, con
sciousness looks ahead to complete self-realization, which is of
course the revolutionary process stretching forward in time,
perceivable now only as theory or projection.
Traveling, moving into the past, Njeri pieces together fragments.
Who does she see staring into the face of a southern white man who
was said to be the murderer? Does the terror in his face mirror the look
of the unsuspecting black man whose death history does not name or
record? Baldwin wrote that "people are trapped in history and history
is trapped in them." There is then only the fantasy of escape, or the
promise that what is lost will be found, rediscovered, and returned. For
Representations ofWhiteness
black folks, reconstructing an archaeology of memory makes return
possible, the journey to a place we can never call home even as we
reinhabit it to make sense ofpresent locations. Such journeying cannot
be fully encompassed by conventional notions of travel.
Spinning offfrom Said's essaY,]ames Clifford, in "Notes onTravel
and Theory,» celebrates the idea of journeying, asserting:
This sense ofworldly, "mapped" movement is also why it may be
worth holding on to the term "travel," despite its connotations of
middle class "literary" or recreational journeying, spatial practices
long associated with male experiences and virtues. "Travel" sug
gests, at least, profane activity, following public routes and beaten
tracks. How do different populations, classes and genders travel?
What kinds ofknowledges, stories, and theories do they produce?
A crucial research agenda opens up.
Reading this piece and listening to Clifford talk about theory and travel,
I appreciated his efforts to expand the travel/theoretical frontier so that
it might be more inclUSive, even as I considered that to answer the
questions he poses is to propose a deconstruction of the conventional
sense of travel, and put alongside it, or in its place, a theory of the
journey that would expose the extent to which holding on to the
conceptof"travel"as we know it is also a way to hold on to imperialism.
For some individuals, clinging to the conventional sense oftravel
allows them to remain fascinated with imperialism, to write about it,
seductively evoking what Renato Rosaldo aptly calls, in Culture and
Truth, "imperialist nostalgia." Significantly, he reminds readers that
"even politically progressive North American audiences have enjoyed
the elegance ofmanners governing relations ofdominance and subor
dination between the 'races.' " Theories of travel produced outside
conventional borders might want the Journey to become the rubric
within which travel, as a starting point for discourse, is associated with
different headings-rites ofpassage, immigration, enforced migration,
relocation, enslavement, and homelessness. Travel is not a word that
can be easilyevoked to talk about the Middle Passage, the TrailofTears,
the landing of Chinese immigrants, the forced relocation ofJapanese
Americans, orthe plightofthe homeless. Theorizingdiverse journeyirig
is crucial to our understanding of any politicS of location. As Clifford
asserts at the end of his essay:
Theory is always written from some ·where,» and that "where" is
less a place than itineraries: different, concrete histories ofdwell
ing, immigration, exile, migration. These include the migration of
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BLACK LOOKS
third world intellectuals into the metropolitan universities, to pass
throughorto remain, changed by theirtravel but marked by places
of origin, by peculiar allegiances and alienations.
Listening to Clifford "playfully" evoke a sense oftravel, I felt such
an evocation would always make it difficult for there to be recognition
ofan experience oftravel that is not about play but is an encounterwith
terrorism. And it is crucial that we recognize that the hegemony of one
experience of travel can make it impossible to articulate another
experience or for it to be heard. From certain standpOints, to travel is
to encounter the terrorizing force of white supremacy. To tell my
"travel" stories, I must name the movement from radally segregated
southern community, from rural black Baptist origin, to prestigious
white university settings. I must be able to speak about what it is like
to be leaving Italy after I have given a talk on racism and feminism,
hosted by the parliament, only to stand for hours while I am interro
gated by white officials who do not have to respond when I enquire as
to why the questions they ask me are different from those asked the
white people in line before me. Thinking only that I must endure this
public questioning, the stares of those around me, because my skin is
black, I am startled when I am asked if I speak Arabic, when I am told
that women like me receive presents from men without knowing what
those presents are. Reminded of another time when I was stripped
searched by French officials, who were stopping black people to make
sure we were not illegal immigrants and/or terrorists, I think that one
fantasy ofwhiteness is that the threatening Other is always a terrorist.
This projection enables many white people to imagine there is no
representation ofwhiteness as terror, as terrorizing. Yet it is this repre
sentation of whiteness in the black imagination, first learned in the
narrow confines ofpoor black rural community that is sustained by my
travels to many different locations.
To travel, I must always move through fear, confront terror. It
helps to be able to link this individual experience to the collective
journeying of black people, to the Middle Passage, to the mass migra
tion of southern black folks to northern cities in the early part of the
20th century. Michel Foucaultposits memory as a site of resistance. As
Jonathan Arac puts it in his introduction to Postmodemism andPolities,
the process ofremembering can bea practice which"transforms history
from a judgement on the past in the name of a present truth to a
'counter-memory' that combats our current modes of truth and justice,
helping us to understand and change the present by placing it in a new
relation to the past." It is useful, when theorizing black experience, to
Representations of Whiteness
examine the way the concept of "terror" is linked to representations of
whiteness.
In the absence ofthe reality ofwhiteness, I learned as a child that
to be "safe," itwas important to recognize the powerofwhiteness, even
to fear it, and to avoid encounter. There was nothing terrifying about
the sharing of this knowledge as survival strategy, the terrorwas made
real only when I journeyed from the black side of town to a predom
inandywhite area near my grandmother's house. I had to pass through
this area to reach her place. Describing these journeys "across town" in
the essay "Homeplace: A Site of Resistance," I remembered:
It was a movement away from the segregated blackness of our
community into a poor white neighborhood. I remember the fear,
being scared to walk to Baba's, ourgrandmother'shouse, because
we would have to pass that terrifying whiteness--those white
faces on the porches staring us down with hate. Even whenempty
or vacant those porches seemed to say danger, you do not belong
here, you are not safe.
Ohl that feeling of safety, of arrival, of homecoming when we
finally reached the edges ofheryard, when we could see the soot black
face of our grandfather, Daddy Gus, sitting in his chair on the porch,
smell his cigar, and rest on hislap. Such a contrast, thatfeeling ofarrival,
ofhomeCOming-this sweetness and the bitterness ofthat journey, that
constant reminder of white power and control. Even though it was a
long time ago that I made this journey, associations of whiteness with
terrorand the terrOrizing remain. Even though I live and move inspaces
where I am surrounded by whiteness, there is no comfort that makes
the terrorism disappear. All black people in the United States, irrespec
tive of their class status or politics, live with the possibility that theywill
be terrorized by whiteness. .
This terror is most vividly described by black authors in fiction
wri'ting, particularly the recent novel by Toni Morrison, Beloved. Baby
Suggs, the black prophet, who is most vocal about representations of
whiteness, dies because she suffers an absence of color. Surrounded
by a lack, an empty space, taken over by whiteness, she remembers:
"Those white things have taken all I had or dreamed and broke my
heartstrings too. There is no bad luck in the world but white folks." If
the mask of whiteness, the pretense, represents it as always benign,
benevolent, then what this representation obscures is the representa
tion ofdanger, the senseofthreat. During the period ofracial apartheid,
still known by many folks as Jim Crow, it was more difficult for black
92. 176 177
BLA~KLOOKS
people to internalize this pretense, hard for us not to know that the
shapes under white sheets had a mission to threaten, to terrorize. That
representation ofwhiteness, and its associationwith innocence, which
engulfed and murdered EmmettTill was a sign; it was meant to torture
with the reminder of possible future terror. In Morrison's Beloved, the
memory ofterror is so deeply inscribed on the body ofSethe and in her
consciousness, and the associationofterrorwithwhiteness isso intense
that she~ kills her young so that they will never know the terror.
Explaining her actions to Paul D., she tells him that it is her job "to keep
them away from what I know is terrible." Of course Sethe's attempt to
end the historical anguish of black people only reproduces it in a
different form. She conquers the terror through perverse reenactment,
through resistance, using violence as a means offleeing from a history
that is a burden too great to bear. "Ii.
It is the telling of our history that enables political self-recovery.
In contemporary SOciety, white and black people alike believe that
racism no longer exists. This erasure, however mythic, diffuses the
representation ofwhiteness as terror in the black imagination. Itallows
for assimilation and forgetfulness. The eagerness with which contem
porary society does away with racism, replacing this recognition with
evocations of pluralism and diversity that further mask reality, is a
response to the terror. It has also become a way to perpetuatethe terror
by prOViding a cover, a hiding place. Black people still feel the terror,
still associate it with whiteness, but are rarely able to articulate the
varied ways we are terrorized because it is easy to silence by accusa
tions ofreverse racism or by suggesting that black folks who talk about
the ways we are terrorized by whites are merely evoking victimization
to demand special treatment.
I was reminded of the way in which the discourse of race is
increasingly divorced from any recognition of the politics of racism
when I attended a recent conference on Cultural Studies. Attending the
conference because I was confident that I would be in the company of
like-minded, "aware," progressive intellectuals, I was disturbed when
the usual arrangements ofwhite supremacist hierarchy were mirrored
both in terms of who was speaking, of how bodies were arranged on
the stage, ofwho was in the audience. All ofthisrevealed theunderlying
assumptions of what voices were deemed worthy to speak and be
heard. As the conference progressed, I began to feel afraid. If these
progressive people, most ofwhom were white, could so blindly repro
duce a version of the status quo and not "see" it, the thought of how
racial politics would be played out "outside" this arena was horrifying.
Representations ofWhiteness
That feeling of terror that I had known so intimately in my childhood
surfaced. Without even considering whether the audience was able to
shift from the prevailing standpoint and hear another perspective, 1
talked openly about that sense of terror. Later, I heard stories of white
women joking about how ludicrous it was for me (in their eyes I
suppose 1represent the "bad" tough black woman) to say I felt terror
ized. Their inability to conceive that my terror, like that of Sethe's, is a
response to the legacy of white domination and the contemporary
expressions of white supremacy is an indication of how little this
culture really understands the profound psychological impact of
white racist domination.
At this same conference, I bonded with a progressive black
woman and her companion, a white man. Like me, theywere troubled
by the extent to which folks chose to ignore the way white supremacy
was informing the structure of the conference. Talking with,the black
woman, I asked her: "What do you do, when you are tired ofconfronting
white racism, tired of the day-to-day incidental acts of racial terrorism?
I mean, how do you deal with cOming home to a white person?"
Laughing she said, "Oh, you mean when I am suffering from White
People Fatigue Syndrome? He gets that more than 1do." Afterwe ftnish
our laughter, we talk about the way white people who shift locations,
as her companion has done, begin to see the world differently. Under
standing how racism works, he can see the way in which whiteness
acts to terrorize without seeing himself as bad, or all white people as
bad, and all black people as good Repudiating us-and-them dichotomies
does not mean that we should never speak of the ways observing the
world·from the standpoint of "whiteness" may indeed distort percep
tion, impede understanding of the way racism works both in the larger
world as well as in the world of our intimate interactions.
In The Post-Colonial Critic, Gayatri Spivak calls for a shift in
locations, clarifying the radical possibilities that surface when posi
tionality is problematized. She explains that "whatwe are asking for is
that the hegemonic discourses, and the holders of hegemonic dis
course, should dehegemonize their position and themselves learn how
to occupy the subject position of the other." Generally, this process of
repositioning has the power to deconstruct practices of racism and
make possible the disassociation of whiteness with terror in the black
imagination. As critical intervention it allows for the recognition that
progressive white people who are anti-racist might be able to under
stand theway inwhich theircultural practice reinscribes white supremacy
without promoting paralyzing gUilt or denial. Without the capacity to
93. 178 BLACK LOOKS
inspire terror, whiteness no longer signifies the right to dominate. It
truly becomes a benevolent absence. Baldwin ends his essay "Stranger
in the Village" with the declaration: "This world is white no longer, and
it will never be white again." Critically examining the association of
whiteness as terror in the black imagination, deconstructing it, we both
name racism's impact and help to break its hold. We decolonize our
minds and our imaginations.
Chapter 12
Revolutionary '~enegades"
Native Americans, African Americans,
and Black Indians
We are drawn by our ortgins as well as our destiny in tbis country to
seek out some real communion with you, our oldest ancestors on tbis land,
Native Amertcans, Indians, the People...ypu are unique among us, partly
because ofthe millennia ofyour tenure here, the power ofyour teacbing in
words and deeds, tbe ancient wisdom which assists our own search, and
because ofyour trutb wbicb reminds us tbat "ourfirst teacher is our own
heart"... We pause witb you before ending, before beginning, simply because
our integrity allows nothing else... We dare to seekforgivenessfromyou, from
ourselves, for tbe greed and madness wbicb led (and still leads) to our
participation in decimation and imprisonment ofyour ancestors, our ances
tors...whosenamesare now rememberedonlyby the winds(but thatisa mighty
remembering)... You are close to ourbearts. Wepause to thankyou, rejoin you
in hope and solidarity. Wepromise to standwitbyou in yourcontinuing quest
forjustice. As we rebuildtbis nation, as weseekto begin again, weneedyou... to
be teachers and vtsion seekers with us.
-Vincent Harding
Hope and History
The Africans who came before Columbus to these Americas that
we now call home did not come as strangers. According to historian
Ivan Van Sertima in They Came Before Columbus, these Africans
brought with them ways of knowing akin to that of Native American
179
94. 180 181
BLACK LOOKS
people--a reverence for nature, for life, for ancestors. Pace to face with
their difference, African and Native American eagerly communicated
all that was common, shared, and familiar. To share habits of being,
ways of living in the world, was a way to establish kinship, not ties of
blood but bonds of affmity-Ionglasting and sustained. Let us remem
ber the words attributed to Chinook leader Chief Seattle disavowing
commonality with whites: "We are two distinct races with separate
origins and separate destinies. There is little in common between us."
Even before the Africans journeyed to the "new world," their destiny
was linked to that of Native Americans. Red and black people shared
a common way. Not just because, as Jose Marti had written, "the same
blow that paralyzes the Indian, cripples us," but because similar onto
logical understandings of the world united the two groups. Aware
always that ancestor acknowledgment was vital to the sustaining of
culture and community, "new world" Africans and Native Americans
shared beliefsystems.
In the old days, Native Americans, Africans, and African Americans
believed that the dead stay among us so that we will not forget.
Explaining to whites as late as 1853 their different understanding of the
dead, Chief Seattle shared this vision:
To us the ashes of our ancestors are sacred and their resting
place is hallowed ground. You wander far from the graves of
your ancestors and seemingly without regret. Your religion was
written upon tablets of stone by the iron finger of your God so
that you could not forget. The Red Man could never compre
hend nor remember it. Our religion is the traditions of our
ancestors--the dreams of our old men, given them in solemn
hours of night by the Great Spirit; and the visions of our
sachems; and it is written in the hearts ofour people. Yourdead
cease to love you and the land of their nativity as soon as they
pass the portals ofthe tomb and wanderbeyond the stars. They
soon are forgotten and never return. Our dead never forget the
beautiful world that gave them being.
The dead call us to remember. Some of us have not forsaken these
teachings. We hear the voice ofourAfrican past urging us to remember
that "a people without ancestors are like a tree without roots." Let us
remember, then, that in the beginning of their meeting, Native Americans
and Africans were different, but One, among the same world family.
We know this.
The Africans who journeyed to the "newworld" beforeColumbus
recognized their common destiny with the Native peoples who gave
Revolutionary "Renegades"
them shelter and a place to rest. They did not come to command, to
take over, to dominate, or to colonize. They were not eager to sever
their ties with memory; they had not forgotten their ancestors. These
African explorers returned home peaceablyafter a time ofcommunion
withNative Americans. Contraryto colonialwhiteimperialistinsistence
that it was "natural" for groups who are different to engage in conflict
and powerstruggle, the first meetings ofAfricans and Native Americans
offer a counter-perspective, a vision of cross-cultural contact where
reciproCity and recognition of the primacy ofcommunity are affirmed,
where the will to conquer and dominate was not seen as the only way
to confront the Other who is not ourselves. This same generosity of
spirit laterinformedcontactbetween free orenslaved black peopleand
Native Americans. Explaining the way this sense ofcommunity shaped
contact between the black slave and the Native in his essay "The
Caribbean Writers and Exile,"Jan Carew writes:
When the African arrived in the New World, he knew that the
colonizer who had brought him there was a usurper who had
seized the land ofthe Indians, desecrated the graves and the altars
of their ancestors, and sent countless of the ones who welcomed
them to the Forest of the Long Night. It was clear to the slave from
Africa, that in order to escape the terrible retribution that was
certain to overtake their masters, they had to make peace with
both the living and dead in this new land...The African had to
recreate his vision ofhimselfin the universe often being Violently
uprooted...to have seen himself only through his master's eyes
and to have even appeared to be an accomplice in his obnoxious
deeds, would have left him with a permanent heritage ofself-ha
tred, distorted self-images and gUilt. In order to reconstruct his
ontological system, the African was compelled by the logic of his
own cultural past, to establish relations with his Indian host
independent of the white man.
In keeping with the spirit of ancestor acknowledgment, the memory
of earlier communion between African and Native American lay the
groundwork of an interaction based in mutual respect and reciprocity.
Even though Carew only emphasizes relations among men in his text,
African women and Native American women were of course active
agents in the effort to establish and maintain affinity between the
two groups.
Over time, white supremacist constructions of history have
effectively erased from public collective cultural memory the recognition
of solidarity and communion among Native Americans, Africans, and
95. 182 183
BLACK LOOKS
AfricanAmericans. Even though books likeJack Forbes' BlackAfricans
and Native Americans and William Katz' Black Indians document
interactions between the two groups, they do not emphasize shared
sensibility or shared vision. Yet, it is this bond that most intimately
connected the two groups. Shared sensibility made other more prag
matic bondings (marriage, joining together to struggle against white
enemies, the sharing of medicinal knowledge, etc.) possible. When
white armies sought to destroy the Seminole nation they found that
blacks and Native Americans were "identified in interests and feelings,"
that black leaders mapped out strategies for their red comrades and
influenced decisionmaking. As Katz documents in BlackIndians, Afri
can Americans who lived among Native peoples, when given options,
preferred to stay with these communities. Katz reports that a group of
Black Cherokees, petitioning for equal rights in 1879, adamantly de
clared their solidarity and kinship with Native peoples: "The Cherokee
nation is our country; there we were born and reared; there are our
homes made by the SVfeat of our brows; there are our wives and
children, whom we love as dearly as though we were born with red,
instead of black, skin." EchOing these sentiments in 1884, black mem
bers of the Chickasaw nation declared, "As natives, we are attached to
the people among whom we have been born and bred."
Disturbed by political solidarity and bonds of affinity between
blacks and Native Americans, racist white people both then and now
strategicallywork toseparate the twp groups. Animportantstrategyhas
been their historical erasure and suppression of documents and infor
mation affirming the depth of these ties or their perverse rewriting of
history from the colonizing standpoint. Ward Churchill emphasizes in
his recent study Fantasies oftbe Master Race:
It is a given in any colonial situation that the colonizing power
presumes that its culture is inherently superior to that of the
colonized. Hence it assumes the right...to explain this to its
subjects, rendering the colonized ever more accommodating to
.the "material condition" oftheir domination by the colonial master,
ever more compliant to the inevitability of material exploitation
by the colonizer. This has been the clear purpose, historically, of
the Interpretation of indigenous cultures by their conquerors.
True for both Native and African Americans, it has been hard for the
two groups to recover from this colOnizing process·and assert full
agency in documenting and interpreting their reality, their mutual
bond. Identifying this problem in SPirit Woman, Bonita Wa Wa
Revolutionary "Renegades"
Calachaw laments: "Few American authors have ever written a true
insight into the Life of the American Indian...I have become skeptical
of many ofthe White Man's tales. Their historical writings ofMy people
werewrittenby mad-Minded MenandWomenwhose Hates so warped
them that I think they were suffering from some type of psychic
determinism..." Even though progressive contemporary scholars are
working to uncover facts about ties between African Americans and
Native Americans, to gather extensive documentation, their work ·is
often presented solely as a corrective about the past and in no way
seeks to affirm a continuum of affinity between African Americans
and Native Americans.
In truth, sacred bonds between blacks and Native Americans,
bonds of blood and metaphysical kinship, cannot be documented
solely by factual evidence confirming extensive interaction and
intermingling-they are also matters of the heart. These ties are best
addressed by those who are not simply concerned with the cold data
of history, but who have "history written in the hearts of our people"
who then feel for history, not just because it offers facts but because it
awakens and sustains connections, renews and nourishes current rela
tions. Before the history that is in our hearts can be spoken, remem
bered with passion and love, we must discuss the myriad ways white
supremacy works to impose forgetfulness, creating estrangement be
tween red and black peoples, who though different lived as One.
Even the most progressive scholarship by white people on the
subject of blacks and Native Americans usually refiects, to a greater or
lesser degree, a white supremacist standpoint. This contradiction is
evident in William Katz' BlackIndians. On the one hand, he makes the
progressive gesture of uncovering buried history about blacks and
Native Americans even as he addresses that work to an audience
presumed to be either white or white-identified. In his introduction to
BlackIndians, Katz begins:
Black Indians? The very words make most people shake their
heads in disbelief or smile at what appears to be a joke, a play on
words. No one remembers any such person in a school text,
history book, or westem novel. None ever appeared.
Who are the "most people" he is talking about? Certainly not Native
American blacks or African Americans with Native ancestry. Why is it
that his introductibn includes no words, no welcoming invitation, for
those who hold in their heart-memory the history of Native American
blacks, whose contemporary loved ones are "black Indians,n who look
96. 184 185
BLACK LOOKS
in mirrorS daily and bearwitness to the legacy ofthis great connection?
Clearly, this opening paragraph illustrates how a white supremacist
sensibility (the belief that all that is white is superior, more "civilized,"
more intelligent, and destined to dominate) may be.shared by non
white people, hence increasing the destructive power of the habits of
thought and being perpetuated by white supremacistideology.
Speaking primarily to those folks who have always denied the
many truths of U.S. history that tell of imperialist expansion, cultural
genocide, and racism, Katz makes it seem that it is most important to
convince this audience that "black Indians" ever even existed. This
deSire, as well as a refusal to take an overtly political stand against
racism, may explain why Katz does not critically examine the ways
white supremacy, as it is advanced by whites and by all groups who
internalize racism, strategically orchestrates this ignorance. '"
Institutionalized white supremacy puts in place structures for the
dissemination ofknowledge, whetherelementaryschools, universities,
or the mass media, whereby all connections between African and
Native Americans are erased and the knowledge of our shared
history is suppressed.
In a different context, Winona laDuke of the Anishinabe nation
reminds contemporary critical'thinkers that we must "relearn" ways of
thinking basedon a sharedsensibility. In her essay"Naturalto Synthetic
and Back Again," laDuke reminds us that "we are in this together, we
must rebuild, redevelop, and reclaim an understanding/analysis which
is uniquely ours." Her words ring true in a context where we must
reconceptualize and change the way most people think about' the
identity of Native Americans and all black people irrespective of our
ethnic groups. Qust as there are Native American black people, there
are Asian black people, etc.) For Native Americans, especially those
who are black, and for African Americans, it is a gesture of resistance
to the dominant culture's ways of thinking about history,identity, and
community for us to decolonize our minds, reclaim the word that is our
history as itwas told to us byourancestors, not as ithas beeninterpreted
by the colonizer.
In the old days, black elders (even those who were not raised in
Native American communities) rememberedtheirties to the ftrst culture
(that we now call Native Americans). When they spoke history, they
identifted these ties, called their ancestors red and black by name. My
grandmother told me "they were the people of the ftrst snow." I
explained to her thatat schoolwe learned that theyshould justbe called
Indians. Proud that she had been taken out ofschool because her labor
Revolutionary "Renegades"
was needed to work the land, she told me "you go to school to learn
the white man's ways--we have our own way.» I was reminded of her
words when Iftrstread about the 1890 reawakening ofNative religious
ritual centered around the ghost dance-the way whites interpreted it
as a sign ofmadness. Wovoka, a member ofthe Paiutes, had spread the
message that the deadwould come ifcalledbydancing spirits, bringing
with them the buffalo, and all that was lost would be recovered. When
the Sioux began to dance in 1890, white government agents responded
with hysteria, telegraphing distraught messages to the commissionerof
IndianAffairs: "Indians are dancing in the snowand arewild and crazy,
I have fully informed you that employees and government property at
this agency have no protection and are at the mercy of these dancers."
It must have been trulyshockingto racistwhites that, afterexperiencing
grave genocidal attack, distinct cultural rituals could be used to awaken
a resisting spirit in a ravaged and devastated people. Even when so
much was lost, Native Americans, like their African American counter
parts, held to redemptive life-sustaining visions.
To understand fully how bonds with ancestors are broken, how
our visions are lost, it is necessary that we name without shame or
fear the way white imperialist racist domination and its ideological
base, white supremacy, strategicallyworked to sever bonds between
Africans, African Americans, and Native Americans. Two historical
moments, both shaped by white imperialism, greatly affected the ties
that had been established between red and black people: the forced
relocation of Native Americans into camps (reservations) and the later
mass migration of black people from rural areas to northern cities. In
both cases, ties with the land were, to a large extent, broken. Black
people in cities, no longer farmiQ.g, began to lose their reverence for
nature. Southern rural ways of sharing oral testimony about the past
lost ground. Sadly, since racist white people often ridiculed and
mocked black people who gave oral testimony documenting Native
American ancestry, black folks learned to "hold their tongue" on such
matters. When colonized black people also began to suggest that black
folks who claimed Native American ancestrywere self-hating, wanting
to deny blackness, it became a stigma to speak of this past. Concur
rently, Native Americans who internalized racism also sought to disas
sociate themselves from blackness (the racial colorcastesystems which
became a norm in black communities also were established in many
Native communities and darker-skinned groups were seen as inferior,
ugly, etc.). Even black-skinned Native Americans, whose hair was a
97. 186 187
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mixture of straight and coarse, like many of the Lumbee, did not want
to be seen as "black."
Mass media representations of Native Americans have been a
major "colonizing" force. On television and in movies, Native Americans
are depicted as fair-skinned with dark straight hair. This look conveys
an accurate image of many Native Americans, but it is only one type.
Like all other groups, there are diverse skin-colors and features that
characterize Native Americans. No one hasyet done extensive scholarly
work on the extent to which representations of Native Americans have
been influenced by white perceptions ofwhat an "Indian" should look
like. Both African and Native Americans have been deeply affected by
the degrading representations ofred and black people that continue to
be the dominant images prOjected by movies and television. Portrayed
as cowardly, cannibalistic, uncivilized, the images of "Indians" mirror
screen images ofAfricans. When most people watch degrading images
of red and black people daily on television, they do not think about the
ways these images cause pain and grief.
During the heyday ofwesterns on U.S. television, anyone watching
saw spectacle after spectacle of white men destroying hundreds of
Native Americans. No psychoanalytic studies have been done exploring
the psychological impact on individuals (especially Native Americans)
who have suffered holocaust and genocidal attack only to live in a
culture where the major medium of mass communication reenacts this
tragedy for "entertainment." Yet this has always been the case with
Native Americans. When westerns were regularly shown on television,
one could daily witness the slaughter of nations by white people.
Children naturally mimic this genocidal drama and play cowboys and
Indians. Even the contemporary Hollywood film MississipPi Masala,
directed by SouthAsian filmmaker Mira Nair, reproduces the childhood
fascination with the narrative of cowboys and Indians. In the film,
viewers see South Asian children living in the southern United States
"playing"cowboys and Indians.
When I was a child, my grandmother taught me to identify with
"the people of the ftrst snow"-to recognize our shared destiny. Thus,
in my cowgirl fantasies, I knew that my frontier mission was to protect
Indians from the enemy white man. However, this decolonized stand
point made it impossible for me to watch passively, without anguish or
grief, images of Native peoples in Westerns. Although it was presented
as an "alternative" to Hollywood's traditional slaughter of Native peo
ples, the movie Dances with Wolves was also painful to watch. Any
Revolutionary "Renegades"
viewerwho recognizes that this slaughteris an ongoing tragedy, though
it now takes different forms, cannot be entertained by these images.
Globally, survivors of holocaust (whether it be theJapanese who
suffered nuclear attack, Jews and Gypsies in the Nazi concentration
camps, or African slaves in the Middle Passage) found it difficult, if not
downright impossible, to speak about the horrors they had experi
enced. While there is current interest in the way children of Jewish
survivors are affected by the torture and persecution oftheir ancestors,
there have been few attempts to understand how the horrors ofslavery
and the genocidal assault on Native Americans has affected the children
ofsurvivors. Since much racialized genocidal assaultagainst both these
groups continues in less aggressive forms than all-out massacre, it is
easy for everyone in this society to act as though red and black people
do not suffer ongoing trauma. No one speaks of how the pain that our
ancestors endured is carried in our hearts and psyches, shaping our
contemporary worldview and social behavior. In the United States it is
rare for anyone to publicly acknowledge that African Americans and
Native Americans are the survivors of holocaust, of genOcidal warfare
waged against red and black people by white imperialist racism. Often
it is only in the realm of ftction that this reality can be acknowledged,
that the unspeakable can be named. Toni Morrison's novel Beloved
seeks to acknowledge the trauma of slavery holocaust, the pain that
lingers, wounds, and perverts the psyche ofits victims, leaving its mark
on the body forever.
White scholars writing about the Native American past rarely
acknowledge the ongoing experience of psychic trauma that afflicts
survivors, their children, and their children's children. Specific mo
ments in forced relocation, for example "The Trail of Tears," are
acknowledged to have been terrible, horrifiC, yet they are seen as
exceptional race events. All American history, as it is shaped by racist
whites, seeks to erase the horrors perpetrated against red people.
Ravaged by genocidal attack and invasion, by white imperialist
colonization, all Native American nations and surviving communities
suffered. When retelling the past, the colonizer invariably minimizes
this suffering.
Theodora Kroeber's work Isht: In Two Worlds is a perfect example
of this tendency. Subtitled "a biography of the last wild Indian," the
front coverofthe ftrst paperbackedition is illustratedwitha photograph
of a Native man, clear-eyed, no emotion on his face, framed against a
light background, wearing a suit and tie. The back cover shows Ishi as
he was when he was first "captured" by white people. This photo is
98. 188
189
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placed against a dark~ckground. He is shownwith no visible clothing
and an anguished look on his face. His eyes are nearly closed and his
hair is unkempt. This dark-skinned Native man was the only survivor
of the white world's genocidal attack on the Yahi tribe in California.
Witnessing the tragiC death of kin and loved ones, Ishi's presence was
a living reminder of "the world before the coming of the white man.»,
The visual text presented on the cover of Kroeber's book does not
convey this tragedy; the story it presents is a contrast between Ishi as
"civilized" and Ishi as "wild man.» When he was first imprisoned after
wandering into a white town, he was called "the wild man ofOroville."
This cover affirmswhite conquest and domination of the "wild man"
and his people even as it laments via imperialist nostalgia all that was
lost. Though the book tells ofholocaust, the backcover announces that
it is a work that "combines the ghastly atrocity of the-extermination of"':
the Yahis with the touching and melancholy comedy of Ishi in San
Francisco.» Ishi's tragedy is reinscribed as an entertaining spectacle for
the colonizing white imagination.
Though Kroeber acknowledges that the trauma Ishi had experi
enced was damaging, she makes no connection between his survival
ofholocaust and the fears that tormented himinhis new life. Attempting
to describe Ishi's worldview, Kroeber writes:
His aloneness was not that oftemperament but ofcultural chance,
and one early evidence of his sophisticated intelligence was his
awareness of this. He felt himself so different, so distinct, that to
regard himself or to have others regard him as ·one ofthem" was
not to be thought. "J am one; you are others; this is in the inevitable
nature of things," is an English approximation ofhis judgment on
himself. Itwas a harsh judgment, arousing inhisfriends compassion,
then respect. He was fearful and timid atfirst, butneverunobservant,
nor did his fear paralyze his thinking as it paralyzed his gesturing.
He faced the areas of his total ignorance, ofthe disparity between
Yahiculture and white, and the knowledge that he could notbegin
from so far behind and come abreast.
Reflecting the racist mindset ofher times, Kroeber never acknowledges
that the SanFranciscoworld Ishi inhabitedwas not all white--that there
might have been groups of people with habits ofbeing and values that
might not have seemed so strange and other as the white world.
Kept as a "living specimen" in the San Francisco Museum of
Anthropology, Ishi did not speak of his past. His silence was always
interpreted by whites as culturally-based (Indians,- afterall, do not
openly express their feelings). It was never interpreted as a response
Revolutionary "Renegades"
to horrible trauma or as profound psychic suppression in the interest
of survival. Had Ishi maintained the memories of the extermination of
the Yahi communitybywhite people by giving constant oral testimony,
he might have been unable to live among whites with goodwill. It is
not that Ishi did not remember. He never forgot himself or his history.
He simply refused to share it. Such sharing would have mocked the
intensity of his pain, would have made him complicit with his oppres
sors. Forwith whatwords can one describe to the white colonizer how
they have ravaged and destroyed one's belovedcommunity, one's most
intimate kin? Ishi chose to "hold his tongue" refusing even to share his
Yahi name. Reflecting on this refusal, Kroeber explains: "He never
revealed his own, private, Yahi name. It was as though it had been
consumed in the funeral pyre of the last of his loved ones." One could
interpret the withholding of his name as a gesture of resistance,
whereby Ishi kept separate the world of his ancestors from this new
world he inhabited.
Imperialist nostalgia, which expresses itself as yearning on the
partofthe colonizer for the ways oflife they have destroyed or altered,
best describes the attitude ofwhites towards Ishi. In Culture and Truth,
Renato Rosaldo suggests that imperialist nostalgia "revolves around a
paradox":
A person kills somebody, and then mourns the victim. In more
attenuated form, someone deliberately alters a form of life, and
then regrets that things have not remained as they were prior to
the intervention. At one more remove, people destroy their envi
ronment, and then they worship nature. In any of its versions,
imperialist nostalgia uses a pose of "innocent yearning" both to
capture people's imaginations and to conceal its complicity with
often brutal domination.
Perhaps mor(;! intensely than at any other time in the history of the
United States, imperialist nostalgia informs contemporary thinking
about Native Americans. While white people are more inclined to give
expression to this nostalgia, other groups of people, including African
Americans, who have no knowledge of Native American history and
struggle also indulge insimplisticnostalgic romanticization. Theyknow
only what the representations that appear in mass media show them.
Before mass migration to the urban north, before racial integration,
much African American history, particularly family history (ancestor
acknowledgment), was shared through oral testimony and storytelling
by ~lders who often could not read orwrite. These elders kept alive the
99. 190 191
BLACK LOOKS
memories ofbonds and ties with Native American cultures. They were
proud of those connections. Even though that pride was at times
evoked to maskshame felt about Mrican heritage, about blackness, this
contradiction does notalterthe realitythatthe two groups intermingled.
Living in Oberlin, Ohio and teaching at the college where Wildflre,
a.k.a. Edmonia Lewis, studied has been an inspiration for me to write
this piece as she grappled with an insensitive white environment that
was not able tofullyrespectherartistic ambitions orherdesire to remain
in touch with the Chippewa world of her mother and the African
American world of her father.
Few contemporary black people speak publicly about the need
for political solidarity between Native Americans and African Ameri
cans that would emerge from an understanding ofa shared history and
destiny. Instead, the two groups are often perceived by whites, and
perceive themselves, as having no common interests or basis forshared
cultural bonding. When Iwas agirl, mygrandmothertalked to me about
Native American culture, taught me to respect that there was much to
learn in the way of wisdom from Indian people. Raised in Kentucky
where Shawnee, Cherokee, and at times Chickasaw communities
dwelled, the elders rememberedtimeswhenred andblack peoplelived .
and worked together. My grandmother told me that her mother, my
ancestor Bell Blair Hooks, whose memory I keep alive by taking her
name as my writing name, had left her Native community to marry my
grandfatherwho "looked like a white man but was a nigga."Telling me
stories about the way Bell Hooks fused her ways ofliving in the world
with black traditions, my grandmother talked to me about the spirits
that reside in all living things and the need to respect those spirits.
She talked about hunting and planting, about quiltmaking, about the
respect we owe the dead.
I learned early not to repeat these stories, not to come home with
my head "full of nonsense" for fear that our visits would be limited. In
her special room there was a framed reproduction of a Native man
sitting on his horse at the top ofa mountain, his arms spreadouttowards
the sky, his head uplifted. This image conveyed harmony, a oneness
with nature and the power that comes to us when we stretch out our
hands in supplication. The Native presence is a part of Nature u1. the
picture. It is a scene oftrue communion. No one knowswhat happened
to this picture when she died. These days when I ask about the "truth"
of her words, no one says anything, no one remembers. They want to
forget this past.
Revolutionary "Renegades"
Within white supremadst capitalist patriarchy, forgetfulness is
encouraged. Whenpeople ofcolorrememberourselves, rememberthe
myriadways ourcultures and communities have been ravagedbywhite
domination, we are often told by white peers that we are "too bitter,"
that we are "full of hate.» Memory sustains a spirit of resistance. Too
many red and black people live in a state of forgetfulness, embracing
a colonized mind so that they can betterassimilate into the white world.
In such a state, cultivating solidarity with one another is no longer
valued. Competitionforthe attention ofwhites,formaterial reparations,
has led some Native Americans to believe that their cause is best
addressed if it is not linked to the liberation struggles of other people
ofcolor, particularly black people. Concurrently, many black people
make no effort to understand and support the polities of Native
American struggle.
Sadly, for Native Americans this means thattheyare oftenvictimized
by a racialized color caste systemwithin Native culture that has its roots
in internalized racism. White people who can trace and document
Native ancestry may be more readily accepted than black folks whose
lineage is more direct, who may evenhavespenttheirentire liveswithin
a Native community. In the preface to the most recent edition of Black
Indians, Katz shares that the title "stirred controversy among people
with Mrican ancestors who had long accepted themselves as Indians."
Again, this insistence on "ethnic purity" is an inheritance of white
supremacy, the refusal to acknowledge mixture and kinship. Native
American blacks I know are often eager to deny any connection to
black people because blackness is still considered a mark 9f shame.
Katz also states that the work "raisedconcerns amongNativeAmericans
still battling a government that traditionally seizes any excuse (e.g.,
mixture with Africans) to viplate treaties, land claims, and human
rights." Katz does not identify this government as white supremacist or
link the proscriptions it seeks to place on Native Americans to
institutionalizedracism. (One example ofthis ongoing racist repression
is the outlawing of many Native American religiOUS rituals, which has
been particularly enforced during the Reagan and Bush administrations.)
Yet, the U.S. government puts in place a bargaining structure that
demands that Native people do not demonstrate allegiance, solidarity,
and kinship with other non-whites.
Despite dvil rights movement and changes in the nature of racial
apartheid in the United States, white supremacist thinking continues to
inform and shape the way most people think about race, ethnicity, skin
color, and identity. Why did so many critics respond with hostility and
100. 192 193
BLACK LOOKS
rage when BlackIndiansfirst aPil-eared?What stake does the collective
culture have in the continued denial of connections between red and
black people?Why do people doubt that Native American black people
exist, that many African Americans have similar ancestry?
Apparently most people can accept that black "buffalo soldiers"
existed and fought alongside of the U.S. government against Native
Americans, even ifsuch soldiers were a very small group. Just as there
were Native Americans who owned black slaves, who were complicit
with maintaining white imperialism, the buffalo soldiers aided the
extermination of diverse Native American communities. The fact that
Bob Marley's song "Buffalo Soldier" could have a transnational popu~
larity indicates public acceptance of this reality. Marley's lyrics declare:
"Ifyou know your history, you will know where Iam comingfrom and
you would not have to ask me, who the hell I think I am. I'm just a <f.
buffalo soldier in the war for America." What is unthinkable is that the
very Native people who bestowed the title "buffalo soldier" on black
men who fought agairist them were very possibly, given Native Amer
ican reverence and respect for the Buffalo, according their black
opponents a recognition and respect not given their white enemies.
This would suggest a historic sense of solidarity between African and
Native Americans.
Just as we should not celebrate slave-owning Native Americans,
even though they were likely to be less harsh than white owners, we
should not celebrate the buffalo soldier even as we acknowledge the
forces that drove African Americans to participate in white imperialist
wars of extermination. My complaint is simply that these acts tendto
be focused on more than the gestures of solidarity between red and
black people because they not onlydeny ourconnections butimplicitly
justify white domination by making racist explOitation appear as a
universal human behavior. When black buffalo soldiers slaughtered
Native Americans, they were slaughtering a part of themselves. This
history is important to remember, for it reminds us of how easy it is for
the colonized to be co-opted, to compromise in the interests ofmaterial
survival, to forget themselves. The red and black history which shows
both groups acting in complicity with white domination is often far
more widely known than any facts documenting solidarity.
When solidarity between red and black is declared, when we
celebrate shared history we are most often asked to "prove" that such
connections exist. There will never be enough proof,enough docu
mentation, since so much data has been lost that can never be recovered
The need for "proof" must be interrogated, however. Often it is the
Revolutionary "Renegades"
voice of the biased and prejudiced who demand proof. What really
changeswhen racist minds read BlackIndiansand find documentation
of bonds between Native Americans and African Americans? Saundra
Sharp's short film Picking Tribesdepicts the confusion and anguish of
a young black girl who longs to identifywith both her Native American
and African American ancestry. When she tells a group of little black
girls atschool thather ancestors are also NativeAmerican, theydemand
that she prove it. The burden of proof weighs heavily on the hearts of
those who do not have written documentation, who rely on oral
testimony passed from generation to generation. Within a white
supremacist culture, to be without documentation is to be without a
legitimate history. In the culture offorgetfulness, memory alone has no
meaning.
As red and black people decolonize our minds we cease to place
value solelyon thewritten document. We giveourselves back memory.
We acknowledge that the ancestors speak to us in a place beyond
written history. Poeticallyevoking the insurrection ofthese subjugated
knowledges in her most recent novel The Temple ofMy Familiar, Alice
Walker uses fiction to create awareness of the ties between red and
black people. When a black woman character is asked why she loves
Native Americans, she responds:
They open doors inside me. It·s as if they're keys. To rooms inside
myself. I find a door inside and it's as if I hear a humming from
behind it, and then I get inside somehow, with the key the old
ones give me, and as I stumble about in the darkness ofthe room,
I begin to feel the stirring in myself, the humming of the room,
and my heart starts to expand with the absolute feeling ofbravery,
or love, or audacity, or commitment. It becomes a light, and that
light enters me, by osmosis, and a part of me that was not clear
before is clarified.
Walker evokes a process of remembering that is essential for the
political self-recovery of colonized and oppressed peoples.
Nostalgia for a lost past is useless if it paralyzes and keeps us so
trapped in the memoryofgriefthatwe cannotengageinactivestruggle.
To allow our ancestors to dwell among us and to invite their wisdom
to enter us is powerful. We are nurtured by their presence. This truth
has been passed through generations. Given the grave crises facing us
in modem society, we need more than ever to draw on oppositional
resources. Though supposedly speaking to white people, ChiefSeattle
calls all of us to remember our ancestors, to cherish their presence and
101. 194 BLACK LOOKS
their power. Agreeing to forced relocation, he requests that the right to
visitat the tombs ofancestors be respected. Sharing the knowledge that
the ancestors dwell among us, he made this proclamation:
Every part of this soU is sacred In the estimation of my people.
Every hUlside, every valley, every plain and grove has been
hallowed by some sad or happy event In dayslong vanished...the
very dust upon which you now stand responds more lovingly to
theirfootsteps than to yours, because it is rich with the dust ofour
ancestors and our bare feet are conscious of the sympathetic
touch...even the little children who lived here and rejoiced here
for a brief season, still love these somber solitudes and at even
time they grow wary of returning spirits. And when the last Red
Man shall have perished, the memory of my tribe shall have
become a myth among the white man, these shores will swarm
with the invisible dead of my tribe...the dead are not powerless.
Dead-I say? There is no death, only a change ofworlds.
Within changing worlds, black and red people look once again
to the spiritofourancestors, recovering worldviews and life-sustaining
values that renew our spirit and restore in us the will to resist domina
tion. Though certainly not a perfect work, Black Indians, like all the
other scholarship that seeks to recover buried history, can aid this
process. Stressing the need for such work in his preface, Katz states:
Clearly the 1920's estimate that a third ofAfrican Americans have
Indian blood requires new research. Today just about every
African American family tree has an Indian branch. While Euro
peans forcefully entered the African blood stream, Native Ameri
cans and Africans merged by choice, invitation and love. This
profound difference cannot be understated-and it explains why
families who share this bi-racial inheritance feel so much solace
and pride.
Celebration of shared history between African American and Native
American will have lasting impact only if it is linked to efforts to
construct and maintain ongoing political solidarity. We afflrm the ties
of the past, the bonds of the present, when we relearn our history,
nurture the shared sensibility that has been retained in the present,
linking these gestures to resistance struggle, to liberation movement
that seeks to eradicate domination and transform sodety.
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'1
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105. About South End Press
South End Press is a nonprofit, collectively run book publisher
with over 175 titles in print. Since our founding in 1977, we have tried
to meet the needs of readers who are exploring, or are already commit
ted to, the politics of radical social change.
Our goal is to publish books that encourage critical thinking and
constructive action on the key political, cultural, social, economic, and
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If you would like a free catalog of South End Press books or
information about our membership program-which offers two free
books and a 40010 discount on all titles-please write us at South End
, Press, 116 Saint Botolph Street, Boston, MA 02115.
Other titles of interest from South End Press:
Breaking Bread: Insurgent Black InteUectual Life
bell hooks and Cornel West
Yearning: Race, Gender, and Cultural Politics
bell hooks
Feminist Tbeory:from margin to center
bell hooks
Talking Back: Thinking Feminist, Thinking Black
bell hooks
Ain't I a Woman: black women andfeminism
bell hooks
Pipe Dream Blues: Racism and the War on Drugs
Clarence Lusane
The State ofNative America: Genocide, ColonIzation & Resistance
edited by M. AnnetteJaimes