Showing posts with label Who's Afraid of Post-Blackness: What It Means to Be Black Now. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Who's Afraid of Post-Blackness: What It Means to Be Black Now. Show all posts

Tuesday, January 17, 2012

The first season of Akward Black Girl is over

and rather than lay in bed mourning, I decided to rewatch the entire season and write a paper about two of my favorite projects surrounding Black identity that exist right now: The Misadventures of Awkward Black Girl and Toure's Who's Afraid of Post-Blackness? What It Means to be Black Now. I feel so validated by the versatility of the fields of Sociology and African-American studies, both of which consistently remind me that that which is interesting to me personally is worthy of legitimate academic exploration and discussion. 

Anyway, I thought you all might be interested in my thoughts on combining the two works. But don't go stealin my shit, okay?





"Through directly addressing the themes of race, gender, sexuality, class, beauty, love, power, social acceptance, and of course, awkwardness, through the particular lens of one individual Black female’s experiences working at an average job and leading an average life, Awkward Black Girl shatters cultural expectations of Black femininity by honestly exploring the way individual Blackness is lived in contemporary society. Though the normative cultural gazes, stereotypes, tropes, and racist incidents that plague marginalized populations manifest themselves within every webisode and affect J’s daily life in small but not insignificant ways, viewers never lose the perception that they are witnessing J’s Blackness as a deeply individualized personal characteristic, rather than solely as an imposed social category. J’s character is thoroughly ordinary in a way that has not existed in television or film in years, since what some would call the death of the Black family sitcom in the late 90s and early 2000s, and thus Awkward Black Girl’s most profound points may lie simply in having re-carved a social space for such ordinary conceptualizations of Black American characters and presenting such characters as shared cultural objects, persons in whom everyone can be interested in, knowledgeable about, and can draw from in the future.[1] Drawing from many well-known images of Black femininity but fully representing no established trope, J demonstrates a deep cultural knowledge of many variations of Blackness in conjunction with a wealth of cross-cultural capital, and never seems to struggle with her racial identity. She does not view her awkwardness, her penchant for sushi, or her appreciation for both “hoodrat love songs” and 90s pop-rock as antithetical to Blackness, and the specific way in which J narrates her experiences, rather than simply letting viewers follow them, demands that the public share this viewpoint at least temporarily.
            Touré quotes the artist William Pope.L as saying that “Blackness is limited only by the courage to imagine it differently,”[2] and by engendering a fanbase dedicated enough to create an “Awkward Nation” hashtag on Twitter, Issa Rae has given social validity to a different understanding of Blackness. The series’ tagline, “I’m awkward…and Black” suggests that Blackness is not the primary lens through which J understands her life, which Hollywood again does not discuss often; like post-Black visual artists, her work is “‘steeped, in fact deeply interested, in redefining complex notions of Blackness’”[3] while it works very actively to not limit her to depicting Blackness and Blackness alone. Having come of age in an era where slices of Black culture have become mainstream, J’s character seems secure enough in her Black identity to experiment with it, to recognize as Roland Martin has recognized that “what is real and authentic Blackness is solely based on your experience. How you grew up, how you were raised, what you saw, and what you went through,”[4] and to not concern herself with bending to fit pre-made societal molds of Black femininity. But in disregarding the limitations society attempts to place on Black femininity as constricting her existence, she continues to have those limited understandings thrown her way throughout the course of her daily life, demonstrating the fact that ever-expanding definitions and understandings of Blackness do not negate the effects of racism and white supremacy. By letting viewers experience her world entirely from her point of view, the character of J demands that the rest of America grant her the same freedom of identity she gives herself and recognize the ways in which race and gender still profoundly shape daily existence for marginalized populations; one cannot watch Awkward Black Girl without being forced to dismiss the idea that race no longer matters in America, and experiencing Blackness as J demands a recognition of Blackness as multifaceted and enormously inclusive, placing ABG in the category of post-Black art."


[1] Touré, Who’s Afraid of Post-Blackness? What It Means to Be Black Now. 49.
[2] Touré, Who’s Afraid of Post-Blackness? What It Means to Be Black Now. 7.
[3] Thelma Golden. Cited in Touré, Who’s Afraid of Post-Blackness? What It Means to Be Black Now. 32.
[4] Roland Martin. Cited in Touré, Who’s Afraid of Post-Blackness? What It Means to Be Black Now. 154.

Wednesday, January 11, 2012

I'm finally reading Toure's "Who's Afraid of Post-Blackness"

partially for pleasure and partially for a paper I'm writing about Awkward Black Girl, because let's be real, I don't have time to read for pleasure until April 14th.

And I'm following him on Twitter and have to fight myself hard not to tweet everything I find profound and tag him in every single tweet. I'm considering it an exercise in self-control.

But I have to share this, his writings on another Black student telling him he wasn't Black:
"Why was I working to reject being defined by the white gaze but not also working to reject definition by the Black gaze?...Who gave him the right to determine what is and is not Blackness for me? Who made him the judge of Blackness? To say I'm not Black is to accuse me of apostasy as if Blackness were a religion that could be escaped. But we cannot abandon Blackness even if we commit treason against it. It's permanent. Even an Uncle Tom must suffer beneath the boot of white supremacy. And I'm not a Tom just because you don't understand me. I may be a work in progress but I will always be Black. The only things in life that I am obligated to do are pay taxes, be Black, and die." 
--Toure, Who's Afraid of Post-Blackness? What It Means to Be Black Now, pg. 97

Monday, August 29, 2011

So I'm Taking this Class Called Diversity in Black America

And any of you who has been paying attention knows that recognizing and celebrating diversity within the nebulous group of peoples labeled "Black" in this country is a matter of utmost importance to me. We come from different places (or kind of from nowhere/everywhere), different socioeconomic backgrounds, we have different cultures, we have myriad interests and tastes--we're just as multifarious as any other groups of people. ["Multifarious": adj. meaning "having many different parts, forms, elements, etc. Studying for the GRE is a bitch.] Monolithic representations of our peoples are so last season, you know? 


So when I saw that Imani Perry, who is kind of my academic idol (young, hip, studies fabulously interesting things, gorgeous, fashionable, curly-hair-wearing, social-networking-like-a-boss), was teacing a class this semester called "Diversity in Black America," you know I signed up for that with a quickness expeditiously. I'm more excited by this class than I have been by a class in a long time, and I'm hoping I'm not let down by it. 

I really really wish we were reading this, but as it doesn't come out until two days before the semester starts, I doubt we will be. Whatever, I'm going to read it. Yes, I've become one of those people that reads scholarly works for/by/about Black people out of pure interest/for the fun of it. bell hooks is up next on my reading list, and this will be after that: 


 “If there are thirty-five million Black Americans then there are thirty-five million ways to be Black. There are ten billion cultural artifacts of Blackness and if you add them up and put them in a pot and stew it, that’s what Black culture is. Not one of those things is more authentic than the other.” ~ Touré, Who’s Afraid of Post-Blackness: What It Means to Be Black Now  

"Post-Black" as a term doesn't sit well with me, but from that tiny glimpse it seems as though he's referring to Post-narrow-conceptions-of-what-it-means-to-be-Black, which I plan to spend every day of the rest of my life fighting for. And Michael Eric Dyson is an incredible orator, very orotund and impetuous (loud, clear, and passionate), as I learned at Yale's 2010 Black Solidarity Conference. Maybe I'll love it, maybe I'll get pissed the fuck off become livid, but either way I'm excited to read this.