I do research for quotes like this:

"...the people of the African Diaspora are a biogenetically diverse category of people who have an identity derived from common experiences of exploitation and racism. It is far more accurate and more fruitful to scholarship, and possibly to the future of humankind, to define African American people by their sense of community, consciousness, and commitment than by some mystical 'racial' essence. It is the Community into which they were born and reared, a Consciousness of the historical realities and shared experiences of their ancestors, and a Commitment to the perspectives of their 'blackness' and to the diminishing of racism that is critical to the identities of the Thurgood Marshalls and Hazel O'Learys of our society."

--Audrey Smedley, "'Race' and the Construction of Human Identity"

Am I My Brothers' (And Sisters') Keeper?

The principle for the third day of Kwanzaa is Ujima, or "collective work and responsibility". 

The metaphorical jury in my head is still out on whether any random Black person has some larger responsibility to Black peoples everywhere, to "give back" to communities s/he may or may not have been raised by, to represent "the race" in a "positive" light, or (and I struggle with this last bit) even to associate with the larger "community". A year ago, I would have unequivocally said yes to all of those statements, but since then my understandings of personal freedom, choice, and statements about what anyone "should" or "should not" be/do have grown immensely, and I'm no longer comfortable putting restrictions or regulations on anyone's sense of self and personal responsibility. Who am I to say what anyone else should do or be? I claim no authority over others.

So how can I talk about doing things collectively as a principle? How does this principle even sit with me? Well, firstly, doing work for and of Black peoples is important to me. Though I don't know if I HAVE to, I do feel a responsibility for talking about Blackness as a personal and a collective experience, which broadens into a feeling of responsibility for tackling issues pertaining to experiences of Blackness, person-of-color-ness, womanness, non-dominant-sexual-orientation-ness, and other minority experiences in this country. It would make me happy if everyone felt this need to tell their own stories and the stories of those who are often left out. To me, it seems that would be our collective responsibility as human beings, that all our brethren and all their struggles might be recognized as legitimate and significant. I'm not demanding selflessness, and maybe this is just a product of having been raised in a Judeo-Christian society, but I just can't see excessive greed as a productive means of life in modern society. I can't say that people of any certain race have a responsibility to other members of that same race, but I think it's pretty obvious that we as humans are responsible to humanity. Let's work on that.

Pi Nappa Kappa: A Sorority I'll Pledge

So I've been watching very quietly over the past few weeks as basically every single Black female blogger I read has talked about whether or not people should feel some kinda way about the new Pi Nappa Kappa, a Greek organization for Black women and men with natural hair. I've heard that it's pointless. I've heard that it makes a mockery of the extant Black sororities and fraternities. I've heard that it might be setting naturals up for exploitation or trying to scam people. I've heard people rail against the "Natural Hair Nazis" that obviously must be behind this group. I've heard women who "went natural before it was cool to go natural" talk about why we don't need groups like this. I've heard people talk about how we don't need more things to divide our people. I've heard people crack jokes about what their pledging process must be like. 

To make a long story short, I thought I'd heard it all. And as a person who generally supports Greek organizations (as long as they have their shit together), but had never really considered joining one, I thought I was perfectly content to read what lots of other people had to say about the organization without really weighing in. 

But today, Thank God I'm Natural did something none of the other blogs I'd read about the subject did: explained the sorority in its own words, rather than making assumptions, and posted the organization's pledge. 

"Anifowoshe’s sorority is different from traditional Pan-Hellenic sororities of fraternities in the sense, there isn’t a pledge process, a probate, and members won’t be performing at any step shows. All one has to do if they’re interested in becoming a member of the sorority is place their electronic signature on the organization’s pledge document, which reads:

As a member of the Pi Nappa Kappa Natural Hair Sorority, I pledge that:

1. I am a smart, special, valuable person!

2. I respect myself and I respect others.

3. My words and actions are kind and honest.

4. I will respect the dignity and essential worth of all individuals.

5.I will promote the diversity of opinions, ideas, hairstyles and backgrounds which is the lifeblood of the sorority.

6. I will promote a culture of respect throughout the natural hair community.

7. I will not tolerate bigotry, discrimination, violence, or intimidation of any kind.

8. I will practice personal integrity and expect it from others.

9. I will always be proud of my natural-born hair.

10. I accept only my best in all I do.

I am Proud to be ME!"

I'm pretty sure that pledge basically embodies my unwritten manifesto. Okay, maybe I wouldn't have put the virtues of naturalista-dom so highly if I was writing my own manifesto, but promoting diversity and respect for all things would have been there. There is nothing on this list that I don't try to already do in my daily life. 

So, to recap: they're not trying to be like traditional Greek organizations, there is no pledging process, they're promoting really good goals... The only strong counterarguments I see are the dividing-our-people/Natural Nazis arguments, and honestly, those things aren't new, people.  They certainly shouldn't be exacerbated, and I'd hate to see this become another #teamlightskin v. #teamdarkskin, because that shit is just the hottest of messes. But numbers 7 and 8 on the pledge lead me to hope it won't be, and I think there has to be a way for people who have something in common to celebrate that commonality without necessarily putting down people who don't have that in common. This is really just a subset of Black culture, when you think about it, and a lot of us can't go to our mommas to talk about ACV washes or the benefits of henna (don't worry if you don't know what I'm talking about); I don't think creating another space where we can do that is necessarily an affront to the rest of you. 

I'm going to sign the pledge.  

Black and Different Unite!

So y'all know that my blackness relationship to the dominant cultural narrative about what blackness is is something I struggle with. And while the Black Princetonian community definitely makes me feel less jarringly out of place than do/did most of the other interactions I've ever had with peoples of African descent--let it be known that I LOVE my fellow Black Princetonians, even when I don't feel like I mesh well with the group--I've never really totally been able to shake that puzzle-piece-that-got-wet-and-now-just-won't-fit-no-matter-how-hard-you-try feeling. (Something along the lines of I can stand strong with the group in a discussion forum like a BSU or PABW meeting, but Idgaf how popular the dance is, I will never portray any part of my body as "stanky". I can seek/give advice to fellow naturalistas on campus, but I don't believe in God. I feel like parts of me are both the thesis and the antithesis of the norms of our community, and so I've come to a happy medium with one foot in and one foot out.) So after getting internally frustrated trying to totally Black-ify my life for two years, I joined an eating club and Sustained Dialogue and have finally started to have the rainbow coalition of friends I'd always wanted. Again, nothing new here--I've talked about this before. 

What I really really love discovering, though, as I brought up yesterday in my post about Awkward Black Girl, is that out there in the interwebz world exist lots of other people who feel just as torn between their true selves and what the world wants their "Black" selves to be, people who want to change the narrative, people who get the vibe from other people, both Black and non-Black, that their racial validity is being questioned. Part of me wants to call this the rise of those who get called "Oreo," but I'm positive it's broader than that. [Side note: it wasn't until Sustained Dialogue this year that I heard the terms Banana and Apple (see definition six). Blew my mind. Also part of the reason I really don't want to limit my thesis about racial identity on campus to Black students--there are all kinds of tensions and derogatory in-group names I was entirely unaware of.] Some call us "awkward". Some call us "nerds". Some call us "bougie". Maybe we're all of those things. Maybe we're none. What we definitely are, though, is Black. And here, in large numbers. 

These two articles on the subject made me smile today:

Excerpt One (though I don't support other Black Americans trying to threaten my race card either--if anyone should recognize a broader interpretation of Blackness, it's us): 

"It's one thing when other African-Americans try to threaten my race card, but when people outside of my ethnicity have the audacity to question how "down" I am because of the bleak, stereotypical picture pop culture has painted for me, as a Black woman? Unacceptable."  -- Issa Rae (aka AWKWARD BLACK GIRL HERSELF), from The Huffington Post

Excerpt Two:

"My experience of surprising White folks has continued my whole life....the near-hostility from non-nerdy Black folks has been the most painful....So, I have tried to be Black in stereotypically recognizable ways....American people of all races have a hard time acknowledging the complicated ways that blackness exists...Some of us just want to be free to be our complicated Black selves and kick it however the wind blows." -- PhyllisRemastered

Another thing that made me smile: a black staff member here at Lewis, who I met at a Fields Center event and is leaving Princeton for Northwestern, called me "Sista" when he was saying his goodbyes. I love getting called Sista. Makes me feel like the person addressing me recognizes that I fit despite all the ways in which I am not normative.

A Celebration of All Things Curly!

So, sadness: I broke my string of publishing at least one post a day every day yesterday. I didn't really plan to start out doing that, but once I realized I was doing it I wanted to see how long I could go. 41 days isn't bad. ESPECIALLY because of WHYYYYY I didn't post yesterday. 

[Warning: the rest of this post contains sheer awesomeness. Be prepared.]

Yesterday I went on a NYC adventure! [Fact: it is impossible to meet someone at Penn Station if only one of you has a cell phone. Kids, don't try this at home.] With the help of a payphone and a helpful boyfriend [on her part obviously], my friend C and I finally found each other and made our way through the heat back to her apartment. We hung out for a little while while I shared the sad news of Amy Winehouse's passing, checked out her apartment, and changed into my bathing suit. Then we left to walk to a park to get lunch, and then it was off to the subway to go to the main event of the day:

Curly Pool Party 2011--Curls and Water do mix:

presented by NaturalSelection and NaturallyCurly 

C and I heard about this event about a month ago and were super-excited. We bought our tickets three weeks ago and have been tittering with excitement ever since! We knew we were in the right place when we opened the front doors of the Grace Hotel to see women of all shades rocking their curls waiting in a long line to get through the checking of IDs and registration numbers. [Tell me why Mr. Big Black ID Checker Man called me back to double-check my ID. I have been 21 for SIX MONTHS thank you very much. Makin' me feel all young and shit. Anyway.] Then we were bequeathed awesome gift bags containing products from all four brands that were represented at the event: Ouidad [whose leave-in conditioner I got from Sephora a couple weeks ago and fell in love with, if you all recall], Shea Moisture [whose products I've heard very good reviews about and have been wanting to try], Jane Carter Solutions [similar to Shea Moisture, but they're MAD EXPENSIVE which is the reason I haven't tried them; Jane Carter and her family were there!], and Hair Rules [which I hadn't heard of before, but hey, that just goes to show I'm less of a product junkie than I used to be].

Then I grabbed a strawberry from a table full of hors d'oeuvres as we made our way up from the first level (the bar) to the second level (the pool) on our way to the third level (where the action was). We stashed our stuff on a chair behind a huge sign and almost instantly were approached by a woman who asked if she could take our picture. We said sure, just give us a second to put my flower back in (I had taken out my hair accessories due to the impending swimming) and she said to take our time and come back to her whenever we were ready. Then she was busy when we got out of the bathroom, so we started wandering around from table to table, talking with women and stylists and company representatives. Begin the never-ending string of "GIRL I LOVE YOUR HAIR!!" "What do you put in it/What products do you use/How do you get it like that??" here. Another woman with a fancy camera wanted to take our picture, so we did, and then eventually before getting in the water we found the original lady who had asked to take our picture. She took a few shots of us together, then each of us separately, then sat us down at a table and took shots that focused on just our hair. [She complimented me on my flower. Lots of people did.] Then she revealed that she writes NaturalSelection and WORKS FOR ESSENCE MAGAZINE and had us sign release forms to be entered into consideration for publication in the "Street Style" section of the magazine!!!! A) This confirms it, we're gorgeous, and B) WE BOUT TO BE FAMOUS Y'ALLLLLLL!!!!!! She was so nice too!

So after that ego-boost, we decided we were too hot to handle and had to go cool off in the pool. I took my clothes off upstairs and then walked downstairs to the pool in just my bikini (and got some appreciative stares) but C wore her dress down. The water was fantasticccc (she was cold) but I wish the pool had been bigger. It was hard to do any actual swimming. [That doesn't mean I didn't take FULL advantage of the limited space. C was all I don't wanna get my hair wet so didn't go under, but I certainly did.] I even intentionally had a couple Baywatch-esque rising-from-the-water-and-slicking-my-wet-hair-back moments, one of which was appreciated with a smile and a thumbs up by a rather attractive and very (too, in my opinion) built Black man with dreads. [I have a not-so-secret weakness for men with well-kempt dreadlocks. It just makes me go Mmmm! When I get older I may rock grey dreads like BTD.] We met some cool ladies in the pool and then I eventually got cold (as C got acclimated to the water, haha), and we decided to go downstairs and check out the cocktails at the bar. 

They were SIXTEEN DOLLARS (wtf world?) so you know we didn't get anything. Then we went back upstairs and bumped into a guy wearing this awesome shirt, which he told us was for sale, so I bought one! 

And while I was putting my shirt in my bag, a woman from NaturallyCurly asked C if she could interview us for the website! We would up doing about a five-minute interview on camera [in just our bikini tops and towels, oops] answering such questions about what we thought of the event, what our hair regimens were, whether we were skeptical about the pool aspect, etc. AGAIN, WE GON BE FAMOUS Y'ALLLLLLLLLL!!!! After that we meandered over to the Ouidad and Jane Carter stations to "test" some products on our wet hair and ashy-cuz-we-just-got-out-of-the-water-skin and starting talking to one of the stylists from Ouidad, who leaned in to whisper to us that we should take any product we want when we leave. DIDN'T HAVE TO TELL ME TWICE--C and I FOUGHT over that leave-in, haha. I won this fight, though, and she got some gel because she uses gel sometimes, and two things from their kids' line for her 3-yr-old niece. Then we met some more really cool people and exchanged tips and tricks, and got our pictures taken again! This time by regular event-attenders like ourselves; one liked my new shirt, which I was wearing by then, and the other just thought we were cute doing model shots in front of the Ouidad backdrop.

Then at the very end, right before Mr. Big Black ID Checker Man came around to tell us the event was over and we needed to leave, C got the honor of being bestowed with a giant jar of Jane Carter Solution Curl Defining Cream, and I was am INSANELY JEALOUS because I've been wanting to try that for MONTHS but it's $32 plus shipping. :( She tried to say we're even because I got the Ouidad leave-in, but she got stuff from them too and I already HAD that, I WANTED this. Oh well. I got a little sample jar in my goody bag. And we bugged Jane Carter's husband until he gave us sample jars of Nourish & Shine, a product that can be used as a body butter or a twist/loc butter. 

Then we walked back to her place, discussing what we liked and didn't like about the event. C liked the free products, the pool, and seeing so many black women exuding confidence about their hair and their bodies and overall reveling in their natural beauty. I appreciated all of those things too, but I wished this event had been more interactive and less demonstration-driven. Also, there weren't vendors here like at the BGLH Meetup I went to in Chicago last summer, which was somewhat lame but also meant I didn't spend my money as freely, so that was nice, haha. She really didn't like that multiple people asked her and/or I about our "nationality" or straight up "what we were mixed with"; this led to a discussion about whether or not we are mixed individuals a-la-my-post-from-a-week-and-a-half-ago. She answered the question for both of us most of the time, saying we were just Black, but I'm on the fence about how I feel about that as an answer...I know that I'm somewhere between 18 and 30% non-African, probably more, but none of it is any more recent than my great-grandparents. Those are both significant enough percentages that they probably deserve addressing...it's complicated. But she raises a good point about how when someone asks about your racial/ethnic background in conjunction with comments/questions about your hair/skin color, they may very well be implying that the part(s) of you that did not descend from Africa [that they assume must exist, which she has a problem with, but I mean, look at me--I would never get mistaken for an African. Ever.] are inherently of more value than those that did. Le sigh. 
All in all though, it was a fantastic event. It just felt really good to openly appreciate the lifestyle choice we have made and to openly be appreciated for it. It's great to feel the vibrancy of the natural hair community, which can be felt on blogs but is brought to LIFE at events like this. There was no sense of what-kind-of-Black-person-do-I-have-to-try-to-be-in-this-room-full-of-Black-people; I could just be me. It was great. Here are some pics, including one of all the free stuff I got!

There were MORE BLACK WOMEN than White women in this ad, and 3/4 of them had natural hair! It was SHOCKING.

       

Habari gani? Umoja!

Umoja means Unity, and it is the principle for the first day of Kwanzaa. Our families and communities need unity in order for them to be productive and to survive. On this day, we pledge to strive for and to maintain unity in the family, in the community, in the nation that we have helped to build, and with our PEOPLE.

 Unity is a concept I've been on a bit of a roller-coaster struggle with this year. I went to the Black Solidarity Conference at Yale in February, and it was the first time I witnessed and took part in what seemed like a real movement of any sort--a large group of people coming together around some issue, trying to be solutionaries (to steal a word from the Umoja Student Development Corporation, where I worked this past summer). That experience was so enriching and inspiring that I really thought we could recreate the feelings it gave us on campus, but over time I learned that it seems that three people simply aren't enough to change a community climate. As time has gone on, I've begun to doubt whether "community" is really even a truly applicable word to describe the population of persons of African descent on Princeton's campus--or anywhere for that matter. Community implies some measure of overall togetherness of thought and action, to my best understanding of the word anyway, which I don't believe we have on any grand level; additionally, it must be asked whether the streamlining process inherent in "strengthening" any community engenders gross generalizations--would an attempt to make the "community" more cohesive be nothing more than self-generalization? How do you reconcile a supposedly encompassing community with the population it so clearly does not represent? What is a community without unity, and with so many factions and interests coexisting [somewhat] peacefully within the population, is true unity even a legitimate possibility? How can intersectionality and unity coexist productively? 

I have questions but no answers.