For Colored Girls Who Considered bell hooks When Kendrick and Drake was Enuf

Dedicated to the legacy of prof. bell hooks. Happy Mother’s Day.

This essay will be available in Black Girls Are From the Future VL II. Pre-order here.

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Last week I watched with curiosity as rap music discourse seemed to approach what I call the “All About Love” moment. The All About Love moment is when a person or a group of people confronts the staggering realization that love and abuse cannot exist in the same relationship. In All About Love prof. bell hooks (RIP) argues that someone cannot love you and abuse you at the same time. People tend to have a hard time with this concept for good reason.

People have a hard time with this because it forces you to either roll your eyes and ignore her OR confront the fact that someone who abuses you and claims to love you is running game on you.

So what is a colored girl to do?

There has always been a tension between how Black women have been treated in rap music, and Black women’s desires to be included and acknowledge in rap music and hip hop culture. We been here. There is no hip culture without us. Will always be here, the question is at what cost?

I honestly did not plan on saying anything about this, as I feel that it is up to the current generation to make sense of Black gender politics. I blogged about rap and feminism for years, and my stance has been it is now time for the younger generation. It is their time to figure out their questions, their answers.

BUT. I had too when I saw someone imply that “well rappers were youth” as if to explain away the misogynoir. Peace to Moya Bailey. Misogynoir is a choice, just like White Supremacy. Tighten up. When I saw that someone said “well rappers were youth” I asked does being young give an emcee the right to ignore violence against Black women? Being violent towards Black women is a rites of passage? Oh Word? Where they do that at?

If the issue was race rather than gender, there would be more of an honest engagement.

I was a Black girl reading bell hooks and The Source. I was young. I was there. I was outside. I also had no choice BUT to acknowledge the fact that I was a Black girl in the hood listening to rap music that called me one thousand b-words. Here is the uno reverse. It was also a music that recognized that I was Black from the hood, and that I mattered in a world that said I didn’t. So rap music said that I was Black and young and important despite being from East Oakland California.

The Black feminists said ahght, aght, aght, just because you are a Black girl, nobody got the right to abuse you, we don’t care who they are.

It was tricky.

The truth is that Black women are to be used and discarded in both rap music, rap music beefs AND in some Black community spaces. Some families. Some schools. Some churches. It can be hard to confront this as a baseline truth but WITL? Historically women and land have been considered the spoils of war, so in this way rap music is part of a broader historical global tradition, at what cost?

How can Black women make the culture and be despised in it at the same time. Ain’t that something? Yet, a whole litany of Black women gave us maps on how to navigate this.

So if Prof. Angela Davis was interviewing Ice Cube in 1992. If 2 Live Crew was fighting supreme court cases over lewd songs and free speech with. If bell hooks was interviewing Kim in 1997. If Joan Morgan was writing “When Chickenheads Come Home to Roost” in 2000. If Moya and the sisters at Spelman was challenging Nelly and Tip Drill in 2004. If the Crunk Feminist Collective was going toe to toe with rappers, academia and errybody from 2010-2013. If I was deep in my Thugs, Feminism and Boombap bag from 2008-2013. If prof. bell hooks was writing fifty-eleven books about Black people, Black masculinity, and love then it was possible to both listen to rap and interrogate how Black women were treated in it. This is settled fact.

In fact, not only did some Black women give us maps but some brothers did too. Kevin Powell was writing about his challenging how he saw sexism is own life in Essence Magazine in 96? 97? The title was “Reflections of a Recovering Misogynist.” The same Powell who wrote the Biggie and Pac covers for Vibe.

Yet, the conversation last week is evidence that some of us listened to the music, clocked the violence and continued to create the culture.

To say “Oh they were youth” is both ahistorical and disrespectful.

It is disrespectful to the legacy of all these Black women culture makers, artists, entertainment industry Black girls, and writers, and to some brothers,  to say “well they were young.”

Just say that you think that rappers have a right to disrespect the women around them and go. If somebody calling you a b-word and a h-word every five minutes, then they don’t see you as human. You are just being tolerated. The first step to dehumanizing someone is calling them something other than their name. This is why the All About Love moment is a moment of radioactive confrontation.

We acknowledge that Black women have always had something to say, we was always there and often getting abused on in the music and in our communities. And that’s it. That’s the All About Love moment. Can they love you and abuse you in the same time? Can they abuse you and can you belong in a community with them at the same time? To answer that question is to open the door to other various questions about love in our families and we have a hard time with that for good reason. Most ignore it in order to survive.

It is debilitating to come to the conclusion that someone in fact DID not love you.

Well, last week some Black women on social media were really close to get acknowledging the fact that they are often not only pawns in Black men’s rap wars,  but that many of us we live in a day to day culture that says that we are pawns in some Black men’s lives. Here to be traded, discussed, ranked, used and dismissed. Ya’ll see the young men “choose to marry a Black woman or get electrocuted” viral video?

Black women need our communities in order to survive even if members of that community are abusive towards us. This is the heartbreaking and true situation I saw young people grappling with last week. They got close.

I don’t think that many old heads are ever going to admit, if they already don’t, that what is true in the music is also true in some of our homes, churches, and community spaces. But the young people will. They were well on their way to putting two and two together last week. I saw them grappling in real time.

I am proud of us. We have come far, and we have a long way to go. I will tell you this, ten years ago, this conversation would not even have happened on Twitter.

We have Michelle Wallace, bell hooks, Ntozake Shange, Dee Barnes, Drew Dixon, Joan Morgan, dream hampton, Tricia Rose, Moya Baily, The Crunk Feminist Collective, and myself to thank for maps towards love.

This essay will be available in Black Girls Are From the Future VL II. Pre-order here. Thank you for supporting me.

Questions:

Ya’ll think I am wrong? Lmk.

Can someone love you and abuse you?

What did you learn from reading this piece?

You ever had a bell hooks moment?

Am I over simplifying something that is really complicated?

Black Girls are From the Future Podcast and Book Club

BGFTF Book Club

I am so excited to announce that the #Blackgirlsarefromthefuture podcast and book club launches this week.

The first book that we will be reading will be “Their Eyes Were Watching God” by Ms. Zora Neal Hurston. I started rereading it on Friday evening and I was able to locate new connections that I have never seen before.

For the podcast I will be posting some questions that I am thinking about as I read the books, that can help you guide your reading as well. Below I have the page numbers for the books.

BGFTF PODCAST_MEME

Book Club Structure

Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neal Hurston

May 6th 1-115

May 20th 116-196

Drinking Coffee Elsewhere by ZZ Packer

June 3rd pages 1-116

June 17th 116-265

The Men We Reaped by Jesmyn Ward

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July 1st, 1-162

July 15th, 129-251

Third Girl from the Left by Martha Southgate

August 5th 1-124

August 19th, 125-268

For the podcasts we will read one half of each book, each month for the first podcast and then finish up the book for the second podcast. I have books selected for May, June, July and August, but there isn’t a selection for September yet.

I look forward to growing our community. I certainly look forward to hearing from you.

Wings up.

~R

What are you reading right now?

Who is your favorite Black women author who is underrated?

How many other book clubs are you a part of ?

On McLean Greaves and the Death of Young Black Geniuses

Black Genius and Black Death

This post is dedicated to Dr. Ruth Nicole Brown and the Black Girl Geniuses @ SOLHOT. I Love you all Very much for Seeing me and for Loving who you See. We Levitate Bandcamp. Poppin’.

My dissertation is about how Black women create in the face of death. Both historically and in the contemporary moment, so at any given moment during the day or night my mind wanders towards a Black woman artist, the choices that she makes, whether or not she can sustain herself, many of the women who have died early.

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I think this is also the reason why I am drawn to the lives of Black women athletes. While they may not die early per se, there is a way in which their lives, their work, their toiling often for long hours outside of the limelight only to appear  like an “overnight”  success is a process that I find myself identifying with.

Which brings me to two weeks ago. I was in a cab, on the way home and I saw a tweet citing one of my tweets saying McLean Greaves, RIP citing the essay that I wrote about him as a fitting tribute.

A writer

will

immortalize

you.

I was like “there is no way on God’s green earth that I am learning about his death in this fashion.” I was.

The cab driver heard by gasp and said “do you still want to go home”, I hesitated but I had work to do, so I continued home. But the life and death of Greaves has been on my mind for the last three weeks.

You see, Greaves was a Black man working on a start-up in Bed-Stuy nearly 20 years ago focused on Urban Black and Brown communities in Brooklyn. So looking at his life, and his work we can see how the current story about the intersection of venture capital, Black coding schools, coding schools for women, the leaky pipeline in Silicon Valley, and the lack of POC ownership of social media platforms is telling.

Here is an excerpt of what I wrote about him:

If you start with Greaves you get a different story.

The story that you get is that urban Black and Latino, and Afro Latino people have a long history of using the internet to find one another and they have ALWAYS been interested in ownership. Access to capital, and a team? Well, that is another question.

See Black Planet. See the history of Cafe Los Negros. See Peep.com.

Now, if you read the post, you will see that I learned about Greaves while writing my own book three years ago, which makes me wonder how many more folks are in the archives who have done similar work; folks we are unaware of.

His death.

He was young. I can’t help but think of how many young, creative Black men and women die early, when so much of their lives are bound up in giving life.

Live givers.

Early deaths.

There is a part of me that is coming to the conclusion that even when we ARE from the future we will be rendered invisible. I am so happy that I was able to find him, his work and that he read this before he transitioned a few weeks back.

1. Have you ever thought about the irony of escaping the hood only to die young or early as a creative?

2. Is being creative overrated, in a culture where much of the social media noise is focused on consuming celebrity low points/grief?

3. Would the conversation around coding schools change if we started with Greaves, and his desire to create a start-up nearly twenty years ago? What if the focus were ownership schools rather than coding schools? We’d be talking about a lot more money? No?

Black Women, Creativity and Death: Rethinking My Old Ideas

A few years ago I wrote a post about Ms. Kathleen Collins, and how Black women who run from their genius may make themselves sick.

I don’t think that I agree with that anymore.

In fact I have become more invested in thinking about and working my way through how Black women create in the face of sickness, illness and death.

Right now, three Black women I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE are catching health hell. Like in the hospital, chemotherapy, in the house recovering from surgery, invitro hell.

And I am terrified because I know we die early.

Kathleen Collins.

June Jordan.

Audre Lorde.

Toni Cade Bambara.

Stephanie Camp.

Karyn Washington.

Titi Branch.
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Thea St. Omer.

And on, and on and fucking on.

So everyday I am thinking about the best way to be a sister friend to them, to check on them, to see where their head is at, to see how they are functioning, to offer what I have the bandwidth to offer that day and be cool with it.

You see, if you know me afk, you know that I will talk over you and interrupt you 20 times in a conversation. But, I am also a healer, and maybe one of the best listeners you will ever meet. I pay attention to myself, which gives me space to pay attention to others.

With that being said, I am not sure if running from our genius makes us sick. I think that being Black, and girl, in a culture that is premised on the hatred of both Black people and women may be what makes us sick.

Now, do I think that there is a consequence for running away from that creative spark?

Always.

But power maps onto the bodies of Black women in very clear ways. In ways that kill us, and folks will be asking “Oh what happened to so and so, she just up and died?” As if it weren’t a pattern.

I think I am coming to the conclusion that in life,  death is always just right there, and it is the work to figure out HOW to do the work despite that dark lurker.

Do you think about the conditions under which Black women create art?

Who is your current favorite Black woman artist and why?

 

On My New Book

I am always writing.

I always have new book ideas.

Right now I have three in outline form that I have been working on since 2013 and 2014 respectively.

However, and one will be a mainstream hit BECAUSE of the problem it solves. But something has been nagging at me.

Because I am TEACHING Black history now as a Black feminist, because people are USED to buying digital books and because I reminded myself that Zane sold 108K copies at 22K a piece, and because of my LOVE of fancy bathroom back splashes and a desire to move my father closer to me, I have been thinking what can I write that:

  • 1. Feels authentic, because you know I ain’t gonna lie Craig.
  • 2. Stacks my chips, because, I want my Dad closer, OR I need to be able to see him regularly without it being  a financial burden.
  • 3. I need to grow bigger than the LOVELY, BEAUTIFUL audience that I have built.
  • 4. I work hard, and hard work is dignifying. But you know what gina, I am not put her to grind my Black ass to dust working. I am not. Other people may have that voice in their spirit that says that. But I don’t.
  • I need to be able to demonstrate to myself that I can stack my coins, write what feels authentic to me, center Black people, acknowledge and mark White people who have access to economic and cultural institutional levers,  be ready to receive mainstream media attention, and not lose my fucking mind.

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I mean, look at this shit:

I need to be able to demonstrate to myself that I can stack my coins, write what feels authentic to me, center Black people, acknowledge and mark White people who have access to economic and cultural institutional levers,  be ready to receive mainstream media attention, and not lose my fucking mind.

How Sway, how?

So, today I woke up and the idea hit me. And holy shit is it a doozy. It allows me to have contemporary conversations, it allows me bring in some essays that I am writing for another project, and it allows me to assert my voice into contemporary conversations about race, social justice, Black women, #BlackGirlDeath etc. And because I am mastering academic media marketing and distribution I am going to be writing it with an eye toward broadening my purchasing community to include, OFF THE BACK, Black book clubs, and colleges, universities and libraries. But doing so in a way that feels authentic to me.

I am a Black feminist who Loves to stack my chips. Why?

Life has shown me over and over again, that my willingness to do so means that I can manage my life and my life’s emergencies better AND I can be there for my family and their lives too. And if I don’t help for emergencies…I can do things that are like sugar on top.

I can see the cover of the book ya’ll and it will be a force in national converstion’s on race in 2016.

God would not have put it on my heart if I wasn’t ready. And honestly I may not need to get ready. I may just need to know that God will help me no matter what happens.

 

Girl.

Are you writing anything?

If you were reading a book about being black right now in 2015, what would you want it to address in order for it to feel whole to you?

I.

LOVE.

Ya’ll. Without you, I wouldn’t believe that any of this is possible.

~ R