Ms. Black Feminist Goes to the Country Club

I have a bad left knee. I moved earlier this week, and I didn’t want
my knee to look like a cauliflower, so I decided to use a
gym pass that
I had been saving for a rainy day.

I figured that a little yoga and a little steam room would help
old lefty feel better.


The gym facility was beautiful. A summer camp for adults in the
form of a gym.


This morning I was in the locker room, with affluent, older white
women to my left
and to my right and I don’t remember the last time
I felt so conscious of how Black I was. The browness of my skin.

The non blondess of my hair.


I couldn’t help but catch glances of other women’s bodies,
the
cellulite,
thighs, muscles, amazing six packs and I began to think
of my own self consciousness around
being about 7 or 8 pounds
lighter than my normal weight.
When I get stressed out, I stop eating.

The last two months things have been stressful, but they are
getting back to normal, thank God.
I noticed several things on
my country club field trip. The first thing
is that initially I felt
uncomfortable. I received slow glances from some
of the staff.
Then the longer I was there, and moved about the
facility
, I felt less like their glances mattered and I felt more like a member.

I also noticed the presence of entire families. During the week
in downtown Brooklyn and Manhattan it is common to see Spanish,
Caribbean and African American women with white children, on the train, on
the street in the parks. Today, it was such a sight to see so many white
men playing an active caregiving role with their
children. It dawned
on me that affluent white folks take their children to the gym with them.
I began to think about the message that it sends to young people.
I also thought about African American women, and our unwillingness
to exercise because we do not want water ANYWHERE near our
hair and the impact that this has on our health.

Finally, I was refreshed. Mascara check. Blush Check. Hat titled to the side
30 degrees, check. I prepared to leave. As I started walking out of the
facility I noticed a group of Black men in the lobby. There was a hum
in the room. My thought was “Oh there are some Cauuuties, ok, girls
look alive.” Then I thought to myself, hmm, why is there a high school
basketball team practicing here and dismissed it. Therefore, by eating a heart friendly diet and staying active, you might be able to ward off impotence. downtownsault.org levitra uk Age – Although type 1 diabetes can be detected at any age, it appears at two noticeable generic cialis buy peaks. Its organosulfur ingredients are under research for many years just to come up with the kamagra a cheapest pill to whacks the ED cialis generika downtownsault.org issue. This helps in the proper supply of blood to the penile organ which is mainly blocked with the strong functioning of the nervous system, improves mental capacity, and prevents atherosclerosis and myocardial infarction. pfizer viagra discount http://downtownsault.org/downtown/services/allure-dance-company/ Then, as I walked further and
gazed at a 6 ft 7 tall drink of water, he gazed back at me, and then
I saw the purple and gold warm up suits. I realized that it
was The Lakers.

A wave of adrenaline rushed through me.

I immediately and inconspicuously started looking for Kobe,
who I noticed was on the low, wearing a hood. I walked to
the coat check lady and said “Nikki, do you see who just walked in?”

So many things rushed through my head. I thought of the power
dynamic between athletes and the women they are attracted to.
I thought about what it must feel like to be a woman who receives
attention from a person who is catered to and revered by so many
people
. As the player walked past me, me with my duffel bag, lap top
bag and Shiny Black Girl handbag, it was electric. I was myself and
still getting the eye.

I felt simultaneously like a groupie, feminist, sociologist and a writer.
I thought of Kobe’s rape case and the emotional terrain
involved with hanging out and having sex with a professional
athlete. In our society, women are raised to think that “landing”
someone with Hollywood credentials is the ultimate success.
I thought about what it feels like to be a powerful man in a culture
that simultaneously resents you for your wealth and respects you
for your athletic ability. No one talks about the power dynamics
involved in dating such a person
. I thought of how historically
women who have been (allegedly) being raped by athletes and
famous men in general are typically blamed for the (alleged) rape
in the court of popular opinion.

Mike Tyson. R.Kelly. Kobe Bryant. Mystikal. 2Pac.

It is one thing to run into Hollywood folks out in the street, and something
completly different to encounter an entire basketball team comprised
mostly of Black men in a gym. Especially if it makes both me and the
team members the only Black non staff folk in the room.

Ms. Black feminist goes to the country club, gets a lesson, in class,
race, affluence and power.

Oh, and my knee feels better.

Have you felt your ethnicity, hard, recently?

Athletes, women and power, any thoughts?

Vibrate Higher


A dear friend sent me an e-mail this morning, inviting me
to his wedding and also commenting on my situation with Filthy.

I’m telling you this for a couple reasons. First, as my friend, I wanted to share this good news and my feelings with you. I hope you have some sense of how much I want this woman in my life and what I’m willing to do to create the most happiness that I can for her. Secondly, as my friend, I want you to have this understanding because I hope that you’ll accept no less for yourself.

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it really resonated with me, especially
since I was playing “She Lives
in My Lap
” at the time.

I am moving this week, so I just removed my cd’s from under my bed,
and popped Andre in. I haven’t seen my cd’s in 8 months and I miss them.
They are my old
friends. The D.O.C, Al Green and Fiona all are getting
bumped today.

I have learned a lot about myself in this last week.
Things that I don’t think I would have been prepared to
learn or address had I not been been for the love turbulence.
I’m grateful.

Have you learned anything about yourself recently?

About

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Spread Love its the Brooklyn Way

Streets to Suites is a film directed by Marquette Jones,
a dear friend of mine.
The first thing that I noticed when
watching this short
is that I felt that sense of anticipation
that typically occurs when I reading a good short story.

I love that “what is going to happen next” feeling.

She is currently working on her first feature titled,
“Round on Both Sides.” I look forward to seeing
it as well (hint, throat scratch, hint.)

Jonzey is big on subtext and it shows.
The film has the feel of a music video, but an eye for the small
details that make up everyday life.

In watching this I am reminded to how little we hear
of Black men, who grind everyday in our communities.

Salute.

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The above video Castaway Voters: Felons in Virgina
is by another friend of mine, Garland McLaurin,
who is a filmmaker as well. He currently produces short news
documentaries for American News Project. I was particularly
moved by this piece because of my interest in voter
disenfranchisement, and the right for felons to vote. I was also
great to hear directly from black men, “I want to be a part of society”,
that’s real talk.

Here are some more videos from Garland.
On the Road to the Inauguration
Eviction Day: Foreclosure Crisis.
Lincoln and Race

You watch anything good lately?
Any thoughts on the two videos?
What will it take to get a good distribution model
for GOOD BLACK CONTENT?

Barack Obama and Shirley Chisholm

On the evening of November 5th in Brooklyn, you would have thought
that Juneteenth and
the Fourth of July had occurred. Cars were
honking
bars were full, White Folks, Black Folks and Asian folks
were happy that their
candidate won. D-boys that I had never seen
on my block, who hustle
behind closed doors had their big red cups
out. They were
elated that a Black president had been elected.

I felt a little bit different, as I spent the evening reading Paula Giddings
phenomenal book “When and Where I Enter.”

Tracey Rose told me that, in Bed-Stuy a young Black man told her that he
felt
that he could do anything. She also mentioned how older Black
women were reaching out to her
and simply being more expressive
and emotionally available.
I didn’t think of anything of it at the time
because I connect with
people all the time when I am out and about.
I make it a point to.

However, when I thought of others, instead of focusing on myself,
I realized how important the collective mood can be when we are
focusing on the positive or for that matter, on the negative.

I have been reluctant to write about Obama’s election largely because
I haven’t wanted to steal anyone’s joy
.

However I realize that, as a writer and thinker, I am not doing anyone
any good but censoring myself.

The point that I am trying to get at is that I am skeptical about
The Change
and I am more concerned about “The Power.”
When I mention this to friends and colleagues, the responses range
from disagreement, to cynicism, to understanding.

I get the feeling that people, some middle class Black folks that I know
are more interested in doing some good, you know Wu Tang is for
the kids
and all, but ultimatly they want to get closer to “The Power
themselves.


I am not so concerned with President Obama’s ability to govern, as I think
he will be as clear thinking leader
of the free world in as much as we have
had previous leaders of the free world.


My issue is with our unwillingness to ask the hard questions of ourselves,
about the Economy, about Healthcare, about Education and how we
treat every day human beings based on “The Power” and “The Change.”

I mean, look at the consumption spurred by the campaign. We really
appear to be a people who think that we can buy our way to social justice. I wonder
if the discipline that is required to be the change and to analyze “The Power”
is within us. The next time you read the news paper and you see an article
on the economy, ask yourself whose interests are being served by
whatever topic is being discussed, ask yourself why its being discussed
at all. This is the way that I go about trying to analyze “The Power.”

Nationalizing Citibank? Bernie Maddoff is on house arrest?

I sometimes get the sense that in our desire to get rich or die trying we
are willing to overlook the way in which power works in our society

because of our sincerest hope that we may one day benefit from it.

Power is the ability to right a wrong and make yourself whole
after you have suffered a setback. Power is the ability to find another job
after you have been laid off. Power is the ability appeal and win a
dismissal from your University, Power is the ability to make the same
amount of money that your colleague of a different gender or race
earns for the same job, Power is the ability to tell the police that
they WILL NOT search you on your own block.
Power is the ability
for a Black mother to keep her son from
being put in Special Ed in the
first grade.

On November 5th, as I sat reading “When and Where I Enter”, I was
reminded of several things, one was the history of the law
as it pertains to human beings and the other Shirly Chisholm’s campaign

and the Black male response to her campaign.

In 1972, Chisholm became the first major-party black candidate for President
of the United States and the first woman to run for the Democratic
presidential nomination.

“When and Where I Enter” sets forth the argument that the first
African Americans who arrived here were indentured servants,
not chattel slaves. Meaning that that their enslavement was NOT
based on their race. It was purely based on labor needs.

It wasn’t until the slave owners and the law makers decided that
they needed to make as much as possible from the labor of Black
and white indentured servants that that race based

slavery arose. The laws changed to reflect this need. Think
about it, in a Patriarchal society, the identity of the child
is tied to his or her father. This is why we take on the fathers
last name, for heir reasons. The law changed so that the mothers
status dictacted the status of the child. An Enslaved mother and a Free
or Enslave father created an enslaved child. This is the way that
the law changed to reflect the new needs.

White women were sold into slavery as well for having sexual
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With regard to Chisholm, Black male politicians responded
to her decision to run for for president with cynicism and benign
hatred. Giddings writes,

Chisolm’s candidacy would suffer even more at the hands of
Black leaders, who by the early seventies were almost exclusively
men. Black politicos explored several options in 1972. On was to run
favorite sons in several states; another was to throw support behind
McGovern; and a third to support a single Black candidate. None, however,
it seemed to include Shirley Chisholm. She became vividly aware of this
after hearing the results of a Black strategy meeting that took place
outside of Chicago which included Julian Bond, Imamu Amiri Baraka,
Percy Sutton, Richard Hatcher, Jesse Jackson, Roy Innis, Willie Brown,
Basil Patterson and Clarence Mitchell III.

What was really bothering the Black males at the meeting was…more directly
hinted at by a Washington Post reporter (anonymously): “In this first serious
effort of Blacks for high politcal office, it would be better if it were a man.”

“From the beginning….her campaign was plagued- by charges that
she was captive of the women’s movement. In 1972 association with an
organization like NOW was enough to dampen the kind of Black grass
roots enthusiasm needed to transcend the other obstacles in her campaign.”

In Black Macho and the Myth of the Super Woman, Michelle Wallace
goes on to describe the ways in which Black male politicians viewed
Shirley Chisolms presidential candidacy in 1972. Wallace writes,

Around the time that Shirley Chisholm was running for President in 1972,
Redd Foxx….made a joke about her. He said that he would prefer Raquel
Welch to Shirley Chisholm any day. The joke was widely publicized in the
Black community, and thought quite funny. There was something about
it that made black men pay attention to it and savor it.

Every since then it really baffled me to hear black men say that
black women had no time for feminism because being black came first.
For them, when it came to Shirley Chisholm, being black no longer came first
at all. It turned out what they really meant all along was that the black man
came before the black woman. And not only did he come before her, he came before her to her own detriment. The proof is that, as Shirley Chisholm
announced her intention to run, black men pulled out their big guns and aimed
them at her. They made every attempt to humiliate her, not only as a politcal
being but also as a sexual being.

That Aunt Ester and Chisholm have a resemblance isn’t
lost on me. The fact that Red Foxx both insulted
Aunt Ester on the regular and made a joke about Chisholm as
well isn’t lost on me either.

That being said, given the way Black male politicians responded
to Chisholm, and the history of how the laws have been used to structure
society to ensure that labor needs have been met and to keep those who have
The Power with The Power, I wasn’t surprised by the passage of Prop 8.

If a country can simultaneously enslave millions of African people, while
it stages a fight against
it’s own oppression (ie. The American Revolution),
then why was it so inconceivable that Californians could vote against gay
marriage and for a Black president?

The Change or The Power?
Any Thoughts?