These days, with the help of supportive family and willing friends, teenagers are pulling out all the stops for the prom. From staging elaborate entrances to creating customized gowns that make fashion-forward or political statements, prom has become a wonderfully garish display of creativity, stunts, and shows fit for social media virality.

There’s one trend, however, that has been cropping up of late that adds an air of gloom to the fun grandstanding we’ve come to enjoy seeing on social media during prom season: teenage girls posing in prom pictures with their shotgun-wielding fathers pointing their weapons at apprehensive-looking dates. Because apparently, when the patriarchy isn’t fastening purity rings to their daughters’ fingers via eerie formal ceremonies, they call themselves sending an intimidating message to potential male suitors in a mendacious attempt to protect their teenage daughters’ chastity; a stance that comes across as little more than chauvinist posturing considering many of them upheld (and still partake in, when not within eye-shot of their precocious daughters) the very lecherous, predatory, and toxic masculinity they’re trying to shield their daughters from before being slapped with the pangs of fathering girls.

Men try to absolve themselves of misogynist transgressions through the daughters they help conceive and then place on pedestals; a burden no young woman or girl should have to bear because men should naturally want to view all women and girls as human beings without there needing to be familial ties. But alas, this isn’t the way men are socialized. To a clear majority of them, all women and girls, excluding their own daughters and immediate female family members, are expendable and open to ridicule, violence, and cruelty. And fathers drill this message into their daughters’ heads to internalize and become apologists for the very misogyny they think they’re being protected from, because their fathers have taught them they’re somehow different than other women, and worthier of protection under daddy’s watchful eye while he reconciles having demeaned someone else’s beloved daughter and threatens their young son with violence.

In an atmosphere where so many Black teenage and little boys are already at risk, erroneously indicted because of harmful stereotypes, and are susceptible to state-sanctioned violence, it’s especially disheartening to see guns being pointed at them (particularly by men who look like them) during what should be a celebratory moment. While men are special snow-flaking their daughters, robbing them of agency, and encouraging them to develop cognitive dissonance toward other women in distress, what are they teaching other young men, including their own sons? To come-of-age under a shroud of toxic masculinity and to prey on and disregard the autonomy of other people’s daughters and women not related to them? To shirk accountability for how they treat and engage with their female peers?

Listen, no parent is all that enthusiastic about the prospect of their teenage daughter dating, and I have heard time and again that becoming a parent awakens a fierce inner-papa (or mama) bear, especially when fathers regard their own past misdeeds towards women. But let’s assume that not every other parent is teaching their son to be perpetual trash pandas and that they’ve raised their teenage boys to be respectful, sensitive, and conscientious young men. If I were the mother of a son, and as an aunt of two young nephews (one inching ever so closely to teen-hood), that’s exactly how I’d want my metaphorical son and very real-life nephews to navigate the world. And I’d blow a gasket if I saw a picture of someone’s father pointing a gun at him in a prom picture because dad is trying to exorcise his demons and projectile vomit them onto my figurative-son or either of my nephews.

And let’s be honest, the chest-thumping display shown in these prom pictures is less about fathers protecting their daughters and more about them assuaging their own misogynist behavior, denying their daughters bodily autonomy by trying to police their virginity, and absolving themselves from having to talk rationally to boys and other young men about consent, respecting a woman’s boundaries, and dating responsibly at a young age. Men would have to be equipped with a keen sense of self-awareness and sensitivity to women’s issues to do that.

Even while we currently have a contemptible President at the helm of this country who personifies the tenets of toxic masculinity and who, disturbingly, places his own complicit daughter on a pillar as he demeans and strips away the rights of other women, pointing guns at other people’s sons in prom pictures to show how much of a looming henge you are in your daughter’s life, does not an influential father make. Not to mention, it’s shitty. Helping your daughter thrive in her womanhood by teaching her that she has sovereignty over her own body and sexuality, that she has a voice and a choice and is more than a vitreous object or prop for patriarchy, seems like a more effective way to parent. Mentoring and teaching boys and young men of dating age to respect a woman’s bodily autonomy and to recognize what consent looks like is a far more courageous and honorable way to communicate than pointing a gun in his face.

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In case you missed it, a video clip of rapper, Lil Wayne, doing a very recent Nightline interview with ABC News correspondent, Linsey Davis, has been making the rounds. The lead-in to the segment lists Wayne’s musical accomplishment as one of the most successful rappers of all time; even eclipsing Elvis Presley for more appearances on the Billboard 100 Chart. With that kind of cultural impact and platform in mind, Davis decided to pick what’s left of Lil Wayne’s brain, and ask him about social justice issues and his proximity to them.
Specifically, Nightline wanted to know his thoughts on the Black Lives Matter movement. Furrowing his face in confusion, a seemingly disjointed Lil Wayne asked “What is it? What—what do you mean?”

When Linsey Davis (bless her heart) attempted to explain the movement and its reason for existing— (Oh, hi white supremacy, state violence, and systemic racism), Lil Wayne said he found the mere concept of Black lives mattering “weird.”

“It’s not a name or it’s not whatever, whatever. It’s somebody got shot by a policeman for a f*cked up reason.”

That statement isn’t even the most misguided part of Lil Wayne’s statement and seeming state of confusion. He further mumbled,

“I am a young, Black rich motherf*cker. If that don’t let you know that America understand Black mother f*ckers matter these days, I don’t know what it is,” He said, throwing up his hands.

“That [cameraman] white; he filmin’ me. I’m a nigga. I don’t know what you mean, man. Don’t come at me with that dumb [indecipherable bleeped expletive], ma’am,” continued; highly agitated.

“My life matter. Especially to my bitches.”

Unperturbed (and perhaps Lololing and smdh on the inside), Linsey Davis attempted to give space for Lil Wayne to redeem himself (like Oprah offered to Raven-Symoné that time), asking him if he felt any sense of connection to the systemic issues Black people have been besieged by.

“I don’t feel connected to a damn thing that ain’t got nothin’ to do with me. If you do, you crazy as sh*t,” he insisted. “You. Not the camera, you.” He said, jabbing his finger at Davis.

“Feeling connected to something that ain’t got nothin’ to do with you? If it ain’t got nothin’ to do with me, I ain’t connected to it,”  Wayne continued, before pulling out a red scarf to pledge his allegiance to a gang and referring to himself as a gang-banger, then storming out angrily on the interview–(Bummer. He was much more affable and forthcoming with Katie Couric.)

And just like that, conservative and alt-right Deplorables convened on Twitter, like raccoons on a trash heap, to virtually high-five their new Coon-Cricket Supreme.

But alas, despite lending lyrics to Solange Knowles’s very, very socially conscious album A Seat at The Table, on the song “Mad” and encouraging the audience to chant “Black Lives Matter!” at his Weezyana Fest this past August, Lil Wayne’s views on racism is par for the course. I mean, one can’t expect any particularly compelling commentary or food for thought from someone who champions colorism and upholds white supremacist capitalist patriarchy.

Lil Wayne’s willfully (n)ignorant view of how racism functions and does impact his black ass life (contrary to what he believes), on anti-Blackness, on social justice, and on the institutional violence that precipitated the need for movements like Black Lives Matter, is shared by many Black celebrities, unfortunately; especially rappers and athletes, conservatives, and religious leaders who are ill-equipped to discuss the issues impacting the Black community but choose to anyway, and seem to relish adopting the tone-deafness of the white folks who sign their checks, validate their self-loathing, and have made them rich.

And nothing illustrates this more than the Black athletes who made it a point to publicly rebuke Colin Kaepernick’s silent protest and refusal to stand for the National Anthem, and those Black pastors who have opted to All Lives Matter their way through discussions instead of using their clout to address these issues with their congregation or work in-tandem with community activists.

Some Black folks seem to think that being let into the country club, moving into a posh neighborhood without incident, and being everyone’s favorite entertainer or athlete (if they stfu and don’t rock the proverbial boat), that racism suddenly ceases to exist (for them). They start believing in bullshit false equivalencies like “reverse racism” and “color-blindness” totally disregarding history or how power dynamics work.

Black rappers and athletes think shouting out their favorite racially ambiguous stripper in a song, having the biracial child of their dreams, or using their nouveau riches to accumulate white groupies cum WAGS, then spending millions of dollars on a gilded cage to be blissfully (n)ignorant in, somehow heals decades of institutional racism.
At this point, I think mass media only asks these folks about racism and Black Lives Matter because they know they’ll get a mealy-mouthed response that shills for white supremacy because, money.

I mean, what other reason could there be? Interviewing Black notables who can unpack this shit with nuance, who’d challenge the status quo and would rock ignoramuses to their core would require some folks (media included) to be accountable for their own biases. I mean, conservative media pundits are still trying get Beyoncé cancelled, to no avail. And all she did was release “Formation”, pay tribute to Black activists at Super Bowl 50, and show Black womanhood in its splendor with the release of Lemonade.

The Lil Waynes, the RZAs, the Jerry Rices, the Cam Newtons, et al. have shown no indication that they care or are willing to challenge the racism they’ve internalized or that they’re even aware of what’s going on outside of their own stupidity and sanctimoniousness. And that disconnect and brand of idiocy make media fap with glee.

On the other hand, perhaps Black journalists pick the brains of celebs, like Lil Wayne, about civil rights issues because they’re hoping to challenge them to think critically beyond the confines of the fame they’ve grown accustomed to and receive salient commentary from someone who may know what it’s like to come of age in a disenfranchised neighborhood, where the relationship with law enforcement and communities of color is tenuous.

Lil Wayne did offer a tepid apology following his bizarre comments, and blamed it on Linsey Davis questioning him about his propensity for calling women bitches and hoes and how it affects his daughter… Mmkay… That’s a whole other related can of worms—Hello, misogynoir.

Though we’ve grown to expect this kind of asininity from the cult of personality, and I get that some celebrities’ raison d’etre is to do what they love and get money without having to get political, it’s still somewhat jarring to hear pop-culture’s faves use their platforms precariously and awkwardly demonstrate how little they know about how anti-racism activism and systemic racism work; particularly since (for some Black entertainers) their money and fame doesn’t pluck them that far away from their prior struggles. Just ask Dr. Dre and Chris Brown.

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Most commonly recognized as the quintessential crossover darling and purveyor of catchy pop-music and dance routines, this year Beyoncé decided to extol the wonders of her Blackness by releasing a song and video, and performing a SB50 set, that’s undeniably Black without the burden of respectability, Single Lady-friendly hand gestures, or Flawless soundbites preferred by the mainstream; the better for them to thrust and sing to, or co-opt as part of their YouTube reenactments or cabaret acts. I mean, this go-round, Beyonce went balls to the wall, and described herself as a Texas bama who loves to hoard hot sauce in her handbag, and white folks are like, ‘Quoi? What does any of this even mean?’

I don’t want to make this solely about Formation—(more than enough essays have been cranked through the pipeline already)—as much as I mean for this to be about the push-back against Black self-love and representation, but the video and song are decidedly political (for Beyoncé); and much of the Melina Matsoukas-directed offering seems to be a love letter of sorts to New Orleans and the Black southern aesthetic often derided by the mainstream (when they aren’t pilfering style and music trends from it), featuring clips of New Orleans bounce culture; Beyoncé and her dancers (all Black women) strolling; the pop star singing about the love she has for her baby’s afro and Negro noses with ‘Jackson 5 nostrils’; voice-overs by New Orleans-born comic and rap artist Messy Mya (who was shot and killed in 2010) and ‘Queen of Bounce’ Big Freedia; Beyoncé draped atop a New Orleans police car submerging herself underwater over voice clips about Hurricane Katrina; graffiti that reads “Stop Shooting Us”; and a Black little boy in a hoodie, dancing in front of a white police squad while they stand with their hands up.

Couple the video’s anti-police violence stance with Beyoncé and her dancers coming out during the SB50 Halftime show dressed in Black, at attention in an X formation, in homage to Michael Jackson, the Black Panthers, and Malcolm X, and a deluge of White tears flowed forth like a torrential downpour. Beyoncé, who said her latest effort is meant to make people feel proud of and have love for themselves, was suddenly evading the White Gaze instead of performing for it. And now white people are pissed, don’t know what to do with this latest incarnation of Beyoncé, and so have called for her head on a platter.

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By now, you’ve probably heard the sordid and bewildering story of world class Decepticon, Rachel Dolezal, explode across your social media timelines. Each day since her cover was blown Rachel’s alternate reality shatters in a million little pieces, as more information is revealed about her real identity. In the event you’ve been luxuriating on a remote island, off the coast of I’ve Got Fancier Shit to Worry About, here’s the gist of the situation: Rachel Dolezal—a white woman, and (now former) president of Spokane Washington’s NAACP chapter—has been living a good chunk of her adult life masquerading (with the help of slightly darker makeup, box braid extensions and Afro-textured wigs) as a biracial woman with a Black father, and reaping the benefits of colorism’s complexion hierarchy.In an elaborate 21^st century minstrel tale that probably makes Vijay Chokalingam envious, Rachel was able to craft a highly derivative life, as if she’d taken her cues from the scripted pages of a psychological thriller.To note, while I acknowledge that racial passing—to include white-to-Black ‘passing‘— isn’t a new concept, and recognize that the politics of race may be a socially constructed idea, and that Black identity is multi-layered and, at times, complicated, it doesn’t negate the fact that race plays a huge part in structural inequality, in the way policies are enacted and resources are distributed, and  isn’t entirely irrelevant. Blackness as culture has merit and history in this country. It’s a thread that’s much more meaningful than a white person being able convincingly mimic a look or affectation. As much as we don’t want race to matter and prefer to write it off as a social construct, the reality is, institutionally and physically, it isn’t.As an obviously Black-American woman, born of two Black-American parents, and who is susceptible to systemic racism, microaggressions, and misogynoir, I believe the conversations and rationalizations swirling around Rachel Dolezal and Blackness have been insincere.
The commentary regarding the pliability of Blackness and accessibility to ‘Black cool’ always seem to be up for debate when it’s centered on a white person, because as usual, whiteness gets to dictate the rules when it comes to the Black lived experience, and always when it suits white people’s needs.
And living life in costume, performing as a biracial woman with a Black faux-parent seemed to suit Rachel Dolezal—a histrionic white woman estranged from her family—really well; because after graduating from Howard University (where she still identified as white and sued the school for anti-white discrimination), Rachel reinvented herself and accessed opportunities not made readily available to qualified Black women, especially those who are darker-skinned.
Before the proverbial 3C wig was snatched off of her head and she was publicly outed by the media,  and her actual parents (who confirmed her heritage as Czech, German and Swedish with faint traces of Native American ancestry) and adopted Black brother, she made a living taking up a lot of space, offering first-hand accounts about experiences that weren’t hers.

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Connecticut native, private school teacher, community volunteer, and education reform and literacy advocate Ebony Murphy-Root, filed paperwork in anticipation of getting onto the ballot this upcoming November, as a candidate for Lieutenant Governor, reportedly as a running mate with advocate and blogger, Jonathan Pelto. When Connecticut media outlets read the tagline of Murphy-Root’s inactive blog, they immediately honed in on the fact that she jokingly self-identified as an ‘Uppity Negress’. Though Ebony, who is black, hasn’t filled the blog with any content, the ‘About’ section is pretty comprehensive and lists her academic accomplishments, teaching credentials, and all the community outreach and volunteer work she’s done in Hartford. Ebony’s tagline also lists the fact that she’s a ‘Teamster’s kid’, a ‘Literacy Visionary,’ and a ‘Big sister’, but ‘Uppity Negress’ is what local media chose to focus on and clutch their pearls over.

To my discerning black woman eyes, I was immediately able to glean that Ebony was punching up and meant ‘uppity Negress’ in a very satirical, tongue-in-cheek way. In fact, in my personal Twitter bio, I list myself as  ‘unapologetically uppity’, as a way to also be sardonic. For my fellow Southern New Englanders not in the know, uppity — first used in the 1880s in the Uncle Remus stories and songs — is a word that, when ascribed to black people, was used as a cudgel in the late 19^th and 20^th centuries (by white southerners) to keep black people  in line whenever there was perceived arrogance or any inclination towards social mobility. It was a way to remind black people just where we stood on the racial and socioeconomic hierarchy.

‘Uppity Negroism’ put black lives at risk and was considered an act of open defiance against Jim Crow laws. Not addressing white people by an honorific title or daring to look any of them in the eye were considered signs of arrogance and insolence. Pursuing an education or learning how to read? Definite symptoms of uppity-ism.

In today’s cult of personality, people have underhandedly figured out ways to get away with using racially-charged words of yore, without having to say the actual term. Thug has become synonymous with the N-word and arrogant or elitist have become code for uppity; and if there are any glaring examples of noted black people erroneously being called ‘arrogant’, it’s the Obamas and the Williams sisters, Venus and Serena. In 2008, a Georgia GOP congressman described the Obamas as being members of “an elitist class individual that thinks they’re uppity.”

And judging from a few of the comments of this CTPost.com article, there appears to be some folks here in Connecticut who think Ebony’s political aspirations, ideas on education reform, and credentials make her too ‘uppity’ for her own good, as well; and exercising autonomy over our opinions and trying to offer something productive to the political landscape as a black woman often comes with a lot of backlash, skepticism, and derailment from core issues. When I asked Ebony for her thoughts on people’s reactions to her using ‘Uppity Negress’ on her blog she said,

“I wonder if I had described myself as an East Coast WASP or a California blond, if there would have been the same pearl-clutching. Folk should be allowed to self-identify in jest, no? Even in terms the establishment finds eyebrow-raising. Let’s get back to discussing issues like Common Core, student loan debt, and teacher morale and all the quality of life issues affecting us Nutmeggers.”

Look, black Americans aren’t a monolith, but there’s a specific kind of sarcasm and humor we engage in, as a way to broach discourse about our lived experiences – See #BlackTwitter. Ebony Murphy-Root is a woman navigating the intersections of race, gender, and class as well as racial microaggressions and reflected that via an antiquated word; and I feel comfortable offering that assessment, because I navigate those same intersections and immediately pick up on the ‘Uppity Negress/Negro’ joke when I see it. I interpret a black female political hopeful, satirically referring to herself as an ‘Uppity Negress’ as her upending the lens from which people may view her ambitions and opinions. It really doesn’t merit being the cause célèbre of hot-button local media, nor does it warrant any unpacking or collective outrage.

Tsk tsking at ‘uppity Negress’ being used ironically is merely a distraction and not germane to Ebony Murphy-Root’s and Jonathan Pelto’s political platform. And so far, both seem to have an outpouring of support from Connecticut folks ready for a change.

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Janelle Ambrosia went right for the gusto when she assailed a man identified in the news as Narvel Benning (IAMOYAB on YouTube) with a flurry of cacophonous ‘Nigger, Nigger, Dirty Nigger!’ epithets, worthy of a hatecore song, as he sat in his car recording her. And because Janelle probably wanted to give all those hifalutin soccer moms a run for their money, she made sure to dial up the hate for her children, as they stood close by witnessing their mother’s meltdown in the parking lot of a shopping plaza in Cheektowaga, NY.
According to Benning (who reportedly recorded the video last week and posted it to YouTube on Tuesday), Ambrosia and her children had been walking in front of his truck when he started it up to leave. The ‘vroom’ noise apparently startled her children, sending Janelle into a tailspin… nostrils flaring.

In the video, Narvel can be heard saying, “I have her on tape calling me racist comments, calling me a nigger in front of her children.”

“He scared my children!” Janelle countered,  cell phone clutched to her ear (apparently she was on the phone to her children’s father). At one point, Janelle’s young son could be heard in the background, bragging about how tough his father is. “He sure is,” Janelle agreed. “He don’t like black people either.”

And things only disintegrated from there …

“Talk to this fucking nigger, right now!” Janelle yelled into the phone, as she charged at Narvel Benning’s vehicle – an onlooker, another black man, paused just outside a Dollar Store entryway to witness the altercation, before shaking his head (knowingly?) and heading into the store. It was an inconsequential detail to Janelle though; she was adamant about showing her target who’s boss as she continued to scream ‘Nigger!’ at Narvel’s car window… this time, shivering with white hot rage (no pun), making sure to beef up the epithet with attributive words, before bragging about how many cops she’s busted it open for, “Oh, he knows the cops?!” she spat into the phone to her husband, “How many cops have I stripped for?!”

Janelle could barely contain herself at this point. She was gesticulating wildly and resorting to threats,

“Tell him dude, you will fucking kill him! I will fucking yank his ass out of the car!”

… And oxymoronic insults,

“ … [H]e wants to put it on YouTube and try to act hard ‘cause I called him a racist, ‘cause he’s a RACIST, IGNORANT NIGGER!” She said that last bit pointedly into the car before storming away, for dramatic effect… I think.

But Janelle wasn’t done. She whirled around and threatened that her husband was on his way, and demanded to know where her cup of coffee was. Ah, there it is. Resting patiently on top of Janelle’s home away from home… a trash can. Janelle screamed… her face beet red … and she ranted some more… And then she threatened to throw that same cup of coffee at Narvel Benning; who had the frame of mind to hurriedly roll his window up and auto-lock his doors, muffling Janelle’s hate-filled tirade, and ruefully concluding, “Racism is alive and well… but this is exactly where we live, and what goes on.”

Cheektowaga  is a large, predominantly white suburb of Buffalo (NY); and judging from Narvel’s video commentary, antiblackness seems par for the course; actually the slew of recorded incidents suddenly cropping up in the news are; because none of this is new. More amplified thanks to social media? Yes. But not new.

“I’ve been called the N-word growing up,” Benning told the Buffalo press, “I went to school in south Buffalo, but it was never confrontational. I’m kind of sick and tired, you know, of racism being swept under the rug and nobody knows about it. I mean, it happens here.”

Most annoying are the stupefied reactions of white people who believe being ‘colorblind’ isn’t equally as problematic, and who move through the world as if racial hierarchy (both flagrant and institutional) is no longer a thing, because… post-racial. Most black people and non-black people of color don’t want to hear white people gasping and saying how ‘shocked’ and ‘appalled’ they are when these issues surface. Black folks and non-black people of color want white people to stop pretending these incidents are rare, just because they have the luxury of burying their heads in the sand, and poking it out only when it affects them personally and whenever they’re looking for cookies for treating black and brown folks like human beings.

Even more annoying? The patronizing comments about how ‘calm’ and ‘level-headed’ Narvel remained. Because, once again, black people are saddled with the burden of ‘being the bigger person’ when they’ve been besieged by hate and abuse. Even in the face of racially driven violence and hostility, ‘blackness’ is still under heavy scrutiny; and since black folks had to, by law, act in deference to ‘white authority’ and remain impassive while under duress, there’s still this unspoken expectation for us do so now.

Janelle Ambrosia spat, cursed, and flailed herself into a racist tizzy re-enacting some psychotic Mama Bear role, but some folks insisted on centralizing Narvel’s behavior … what he did and/or didn’t do … instead of fully unpacking Ambrosia’s rage.

Janelle reportedly deleted all of her social media accounts and all that remains is a ‘parody’ Twitter feed. During an odd interview on a local radio show, Janelle vacillated between being sorry (not sorry), claiming not to be racist, saying she’s bipolar, blaming Narvel for ruining her life (because now her ex-husband wants sole custody of two of her kids… she has four) , and trying to offer a distinction between ‘different blacks’ and Niggers.

But alas, now that Janelle Ambrosia’s Twitter account is gone, I can’t peruse her tweets for answers or glean anymore insight about her stripping for the fuzz. Janelle could have made this so much easier to parse, had she just gone to a black church.

The post Janelle Ambrosia: Racist Stripper Loses It in a Public Parking Lot appeared first on Madness & Reality.

While the big bad bogeyracists get to stomp around and hate on ‘the Negro‘ all footloose and fancy-free, other people (whose livelihoods depend on treading lightly… at least in public) tend to reserve their intolerant conversations for kitchen table talk. But even though some folks have painstakingly conducted themselves as upstanding pillars of society, they inevitably slip-up, because there’s only so many years a person can put on a charade, and their folly becomes fodder for the public to dissect. Social media has made it babytown frolics to expose racism from seemingly unlikely (but not particularly surprising) people. All it takes is for one wily sugar baby or aggrieved party to pull the curtain back, and once it’s been signal boosted online or reported by TMZ, it’s a wrap; and as you can imagine, it doesn’t bode well for a well-orchestrated image and when millions of dollars are at stake. Fumbling towards an apology when a person’s deeply-rooted ignominy is exposed isn’t easy, because unpacking years of entitlement and smug authority is excruciating work… Ask Paula Deen and Michael Richards.

High-profile offenders will often have their PR machine working overtime, crafting together a canned statement for them to power through; halfheartedly outlining their colorblindness and how their exposed racism has suddenly taught them how to respect ‘the blacks’. If they follow the Idiot’s Guide… script to the letter, they’ll dig up the ubiquitous black friend (usually a bodyguard) and pay goad them into some awkward public declaration about how ‘very not racist’ their employer embattled friend is; and it’s often pure comedy fit for a Chappelle Show sketch.

Some accidental racists will attend a closed-door meeting with a self-appointed Emperor of Black People; who’ll usually try to place the onus of compassion and ‘getting over it’ on the black community instead of challenging the offending party and the insidiousness of their behavior.

And if the transgressor  is a particularly noxious brand of repugnant or your run-of-the mill colossal (but rich) piece of hate-mongering shit, they’ll con some gullible black pastor into inviting him into his church to disingenuously mingle among the bewildered, predominantly black congregants, to thin-lip smile uncomfortably in people’s faces, give them limp-noodle handshakes, and sit amid them as if he’s part of a twisted ‘One of These Things’ guessing game … which is what happened this past Sunday, when former L.A. Clippers owner and billionaire slumlord extraordinaire Donald Tokowitz Sterling ambled into the Praises of Zion Missionary Baptist Church in South L.A., as if it was the most natural thing for him to do… Actually, it didn’t look natural at all. It was gauche and his dead-fish eyes looked on vacantly (probably low-key flitting towards the exit) as he sat, flanked by his bodyguards.

If pictures could talk, they’d probably tell a rather interesting story not unlike that of one church going family, who wisely paid the stunt-and-show dust and walked out. Other skeptical looking churchgoers were photographed casting leery side-glares at Sterling as he feigned a show of solidarity. According to NY Magazine one member of the congregation said, “I feel sorry for him because, first of all he’s a slumlord. And second of all, I don’t think he really cares for people as he should.”

Ditto…

Because it was only mere weeks ago, when Sterling and his spray-on hair squinted and squawked his way through a bizarre Anderson Cooper interview where he accused Cooper of being the ‘bigger racist’ and of having “more of a plantation mentality” than he does, and insisted that black folks should forgive him for his recorded ‘mistake’, yet could barely keep himself from puking out the bigotry the public has come to expect from him, during an erratic ‘I’m so jelly!’ tirade against NBA Hall of Famer and businessman Magic Johnson; who he erroneously accused of not doing anything for the black community and during which he also made disparaging remarks about Johnson’s HIV status, and the lack of commitment black folks have to their own communities compared to wealthy Jewish Americans to theirs.

But Sterling insists that he isn’t racist, and black folks are just supposed to erase his documented history of race-related lawsuits, churlish antiblack, anti-Asian, and anti-Latino ideology, affinity for trying to run his NBA acquisition like a modern-day southern plantation, discriminatory workplace practices,  housing discrimination, and a recent suit by another alleged mistress claiming racio-misogyny because he faked the funk inside of a black church that, undoubtedly, accepted a large financial bribe gift from him for a photo-op. I get that many Christians (especially black Christians) are big on forgiveness and eschewing the desire  to hold a grudge, but I find it insulting to my person-hood when marginalized groups (again, read: black Americans)  are constantly burdened with the task of coddling, negotiating with, and extending hospitality to unrepentant racists who wouldn’t courtesy-pee on a black person if any of us got stung by a jellyfish, and who have no real desire to unpack their privilege and rehab their behavior.

I’m also disappointed that the pastor of Praises of Zion Missionary Baptist Church didn’t remember the first rule of thumb when dealing with a vampire: you do NOT, under any circumstances, invite them into your home or safe spaces, duh. Break out the sage.

The post Donald Sterling Finds Jesus: An Idiot’s Guide to Race Relations appeared first on Madness & Reality.

When Maya penned her 1969 autobiography, she was one of the first black women to relay an authentic and frank account of the black female lived experience (coming-of-age in the Jim Crow south, no less), to acclaim. So often, even today, black women are discouraged from sharing our personal stories – whether they are rife with triumph or trauma – and are often fed a daily diet of caricaturish, one-dimensional versions of ourselves, concocted by people who can’t even begin to imagine what it’s like to navigate life in a black, female body. So the indelible mark Dr. Angelou has left is worthy of note… make no mistake about it.

To be a black writer or woman and not give credence to Dr. Angelou’s impact is to be ignorant of literary history. Maya Angelou let us know that our lived experiences matter, and that our stories are relevant to the overall human narrative. I Know Why the Caged Birds Sing was a life changer and saver for many black women and young black girls who felt like they didn’t have a voice, identity, or any allies in the face of trauma, structural inequality, and despair. Maya lived so many lives and worked a series of jobs to survive and look after her son – fry cook, dancer, actress, prostitute and madam, educator, poet – she essentially taught women… people… to forgive and love themselves and not let their pasts hold them hostage, and to do better once they learn how to discerning in their life choices.

Her words are transformative and enable/d black women to become self-aware and recount our narratives the way they need to be told — with authenticity and directness. Maya Angelou set the standard for it being okay for black women to shamelessly celebrate and luxuriate in our allure while eschewing assumed norms of womanhood. She has left us the literary tools to espouse what Phenomenal Women we are and have bestowed upon us, words of wisdom that continue to serve as nourishment for our mental and physical well-being.

So, having shared what a profound impact Maya’s work has had on me as a writer and black woman who came-of-age – a voracious reader trying to find bass in my voice, if you’re just discovering her literary canon, it’d be impolitic to reduce her to nothing more than a series of quotable platitudes found on BrainyQuotes, to misinterpret the cathartic wisdom she left us with, or to erase and discount her experiences as a black woman who lived a storied life that included having to navigate racism, Jim Crow laws, and other oppressions, before settling into life as the embodiment of (black) American literature and Poet Laureate we’ve come to know her as. While it’s important to note that Dr. Angelou’s work resonated universally, erasing the totality of her experiences to placate a myopic ‘color-blind’ agenda sans any nuance or genuine understanding or to peddle hostile #TCOT rhetoric to cudgel black folks and anti-racists with, does her legacy a great disservice and undermines her personal narrative.

Dr. Angelou lived a fruitful life! But I, admittedly, got a bit misty eyed about her passing because, in my head, she was like a great aunt, who offered the foresight and gentle prodding needed to stand, speak, and write in truth. And I’m indebted to her for the body of work she left behind.

The post Thank You Dr. Maya Angelou: Respecting a Literary Heroine’s Legacy appeared first on Madness & Reality.

So when I read about the backlash from comedienne (and one of two new black female staff writers – hired under mounting pressure) Leslie Jones’ recent Saturday Night Live: Weekend Update skit, I wasn’t in the mood to be roiled and chose to willfully ignore it; plus I haven’t watched SNL in years. In fact, the last time I watched with any regularity, Sally O’Malley was still yelling about being limber at 50-years-old.  I told myself I wouldn’t crank out anything for the think-piece machine, although I feel strongly about issues concerning the well-being of black women and girls, particularly since we have to navigate the intersections of race, gender, rigid beauty standards, and class. But I read this piece by Rippa, here on the Intersection of Madness & Reality, and it prompted me to head on over to Leslie Jones’ Twitter feed to peruse her responses, where I also saw folks in her mentions, going-in on her… then I finally watched the infamous clip. Leslie starts off by congratulating Lupita Nyong’o for snagging the cover of People magazine’s annual 50 Most Beautiful People issue, then things, admittedly, got a bit dark.

Leslie Jones used slavery (which always tends to be a bad idea if a comedian employs it haphazardly) as a vehicle to joke about an issue that’s all too real for black women who don’t inhabit the right complexion or balletic facial and/or body structure; and I concede that it was awkward to watch, but only because I sensed an undercurrent of genuine dismay from Leslie. I wasn’t incensed or offended, though. Jones asked her white male Weekend Update co-host who he’d choose  if he saw she and Lupita standing at a bar, to which Jones quickly determined he’d make a beeline for Lupita, before noting how much black beauty standards have changed and joking that she would have undoubtedly been a viable choice during slavery.  And I think this is where most black people… namely women… checked out.

A joke about black female subjugation during chattel slavery, told on a sketch comedy show produced by a white man who, for years, hadn’t found any value in hiring visibly black women until now, in front of a predominantly white studio audience, on a white-owned network, I get that black women are not here for it, particularly since we can’t ever be great without being put through the ringer; but I do think the opportunity to further dismantle the issue(s) Leslie broached, is being missed.  As a brown-skinned and full figured black woman whose body is often considered too fleshy to be palatable to those adhering to rigid standards or objectified under the scrutiny of the white gaze and intra-racial beauty standards, and whose self-acceptance doesn’t get heralded the way plus-size white (or even non-black women of color) do lest I straddle the ‘Mammy’ line … ‘Cause black, dark-skinned AND fat is a no-no… I commiserate with Leslie Jones’ lived experience and think she had the right to use her art-form to tell her story as a dark-skinned black woman, living in a large body not even desirable by black male standards. And it’s not unusual for women who’re invisible or erased, to use self-deprecation as a way to navigate their experiences and as a way to seemingly apologize for not living up to someone else’s personal aesthetic; Leslie’s lament was palpable, but she shouldn’t have to apologize for the way Euro beauty standards influence how black men see dark-skinned black women, because… colorism.

While I wish Leslie’s skit was more astute (I realize you can only do so much in a short segment), I actually agree with Don Lemon’s defense of her, and her commentary wasn’t without merit especially since, amid the combative tweets that riled people up even more, she offered insight into the experiences that prompted it,

“… I’m a comic and it is my job to take things and make them funny, to make you think. Especially the painful things. This joke was written from the pain that one night I realized that black men don’t really fuck with me and why I’m single. … I wouldn’t be able to make a joke like that if I didn’t know my history or proud of where I came from and who I am.”

A black woman’s truth is often a jagged pill for most to swallow, even when offered in a distilled way: some of us write, some of us paint, some of us perform poetry or dance… and Leslie used comedy. And I suspect the bulk of the outrage (not discounting the obvious: black female pain, slavery and slave breeding as comedy fodder just isn’t generally funny to most people) is because Leslie’s unfiltered joke was performed in front of white people; but alas, the scenario could have been much worse.  Speaking of which, while white folks are chuckling and cheering Leslie on, I find much of the, ‘It’s just a joke, get over it! I’m white, and I thought it was funny!’ commentary problematic and think this is a conversation many of you need to sit out… particularly when a) this isn’t about sating white people’s amusement and b) white people benefit the most from the structural inequality and colorism chattel slavery wrought, even when it comes to something as basic as dating and being chosen as desirable partners.

Yes, Leslie Jones’ delivery, timing, and placement may have been too crude for most people’s tastes (and I’d be willing to wager that some of same black folks put-off by Leslie’s SNL sketch laughed when Mike Epps’ quipped  that his darker-skinned older daughter was ‘half-James Brown’), but I don’t think it’s fair to completely dismiss her as a ‘coon’ or to discount her commentary; because in the grand scheme of the painful narratives black women sometimes weave, her experiences matter too.

The post SNL, Leslie Jones, & A Black Woman’s Truth appeared first on Madness & Reality.

While several of the girls managed to escape, the nation, traumatized school peers, and anguished parents struggle to understand why the Nigerian government has failed to act with any sense of urgency, to help find and rescue those who remain captive. Last week, the girls’ fathers launched an independent search in a remote forest to look for their daughters and have pleaded with the government to help rescue them. While Chibok officials had initially reported that nearly all of the girls had escaped and “regained their freedom,” official statements have proved to be premature and unreliable; and the kidnappings seem to underscore how ineffective the military is at protecting those civilians living in the midst of Boko Haram’s upheaval, since innocent citizens are the ones being targeted, as opposed to the government and security forces Boko Haram is railing against.

This story has resonated with many folks on a global level and people are left trying to parse how something like this could happen and why the media (read: U.S. media platforms) hasn’t done enough to, at the very least, help signal boost the story.  And since certain folk seem to think they have all the answers to solving social justice ills committed against Black people, perhaps they can help shed some insight and brainstorm ways to help raise awareness?

Blatant editorial shade aside…

Reports allege that some of the girls may have been trafficked across the border into certain parts of Chad and Cameroon,  sold for 2,000 naira each ($12.50), and forced to marry insurgents; which brings little comfort to frustrated parents.

According to The Guardian …

“On Sunday, the searchers were told that the students had been divided into at least three groups, according to farmers and villagers who had seen truckloads of girls moving around the area. One farmer, who spoke on condition of anonymity, said the insurgents had paid leaders dowries and fired celebratory gunshots for several minutes after conducting mass wedding ceremonies on Saturday and Sunday.

 

‘It’s unbearable. Our wives have grown bitter and cry all day. The abduction of our children and the news of them being married off is like hearing of the return of the slave trade,’ said Yakubu Ubalala, whose 17- and 18-year-old daughters Kulu and Maimuna are among the disappeared.”

That the girls dared to get an education, may have been what prompted Boko Haram’s motives; particularly considering their beliefs are rooted in anti-education and any other social or political activity ascribed to Western culture. The group’s presence emerged in Northern Nigeria in the early 2000’s and is responsible for a spate of bombings and mass murders across Nigeria and was founded by a 30-year-old Muslim sect leader named Muhammad Yusuf — who was killed in 2009 by Nigerian security forces — and is currently being led by Abubakar Muhammad Shekau.

Wednesday, hundreds of women gathered in Abuja for a ‘million woman march’ protest  to help press the release of the school girls and to prompt action by the government. During an emergency meeting, The First Lady of Borno Hajiyah Nana, urged leaders and their wives to put their religious and ethnic differences aside to galvanize and come up with solutions to bring the girls home to their parents.

The Nigerian government has come under fire for their ineptitude, lack of response, and refusal to divulge what their plan of action would be. While authorities claim that the girls’ safety is a priority, they reportedly called off three separate rescue attempts, claiming looming threats of being ambushed and of the girls being killed. ‘Million woman’ protest organizer Hadiza Bala Usman, told the BBC that women wanted to know why military forces seem ill-equipped to find the girls and that the delay, coupled with the mass abduction, would dissuade girls from pursuing an education. Usman also said,

“It is not clear why the rescue operation is not making headway considering the fact that there’s a clear idea of the perimeter area where these kids were taken in the first week – to the Sambisa forest. And the camps of the insurgents are within the Sambisa forest. Information is coming out that our own soldiers are not well-equipped; that they do not have the ammunition required to do this. How come our soldiers are having some of these challenges in the field?”

The mass kidnappings have prompted hashtag campaigns on Twitter: #BringBackOurGirls and #BringBackOurDaughters as well as a Change.org petition, to help increase awareness and spur the government to proactivity.

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