The martian is back, sorry for the delay. I've been experiencing what I would call "blogger's block" (really I've been drinking entirely too much in the past week to say anything intelligent, shout outs to Alpha Ball '09). What I really needed was some inspiration and I found it chilling with one of my boys last night, sipping on a couple of Olde English forties. In our drunken stupor we actually managed to have an incredibly deep conversation about the tension between African immigrants and African Americans. While trying to explain to him my passion for the word African-American and my disdain for the connotation "Black", he began an impassioned rant into why he feels the exact opposite way. The insight he injected into the argument was so eloquent and profound that it made me stop and think, "I've never really heard it put that way." - and I couldn't help but to somewhat agree with him. What I am going to do is provide ya'll with the gist of the conversation, so listen up while I drop some knowledge.
"Akata"
- a word derived from the Yoruba people of West Africa and it simply means "fox". It is widely used loosely by African immigrants to the United States to describe African-Americans and their descendants, and over time it has come to have derogatory connotations due to tensions between Africans and African-Americans. (I love wikipedia)
This word defines what many young Africans, like my friend, are taught to think of their African-American counterparts.. and if you look at the simple meaning of it, "fox", you can see where the derogatory connotation of the word comes from. Used as a verb "fox" literally means to deceive or trick. So essentially Africans are taught not to trust us, to look down on us. My boy, as an immigrant to the U.S., explained to me why he learned quickly to feel this way and only as an adult did he finally begin to quit being so naive. Growing up in the city, African-Americans did nothing but disparage Africans. They called them stupid names like "African booty scratcher", and wouldn't associate with them. The tension would oftentimes lead to all-out fistfights. In an effort to make an excuse for my people, I blamed it on ignorance; the media's unsound portrayal of Africa.. simply, most of us just don't know any better. They made my boy feel like I used to, like a fucking Martian.
Your probably wondering how all this relates to the "Black" vs. "African-American" argument, so here it goes. Frankly, I hate the usage of the word "black". To me, all it represents is nothing more than a color (if you ask a scientist though, he'll probably tell you black isn't a color), and I represent so much more than that. I have African blood, I am of African origin, I love African culture, I have African ties.. Why would I dare let you insult me by calling me something as mundane and trite as "black"?! We are descendants of a beautiful race of people, and our description should symbolize that; we should be proud to call ourselves "African-American". Therein lies the problem however, and this is what my friend brought to my attention - see, most of us, aren't proud at all. We don't give a flying fuck about Africa. We think they are nothing more than "African booty scratchers", tribesman, savages, weirdos... What gives us the right to use the term "African-American"? We are so ignorant that we do not devote the time to even learn about where we came from, in fact we disgrace it and disrespect it.
In my friend's opinion, we aren't deserving of the term. Growing up all he met were African-Americans who wanted nothing to do with Africa, who felt they were better than Africans - and you know he is 100% right. So fuck it, I can't even be mad at the term "black" until we all learn to embrace our roots; our heritage. Black is a perfect term - it's simplicity exemplifies our feeble minds - we want to be nothing more than that; nothing more than a color.
Think about it.
The Martian.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Confessions of a Martian, Part. I
This is the first part of what will probably be an endless series of my reflections on issues dealing with race, social stigmas, politics, and whatever happens to be on my mind. It's entitled "Confessions of a Martian" because you would think I was a fucking alien the way people look at me sometimes. . and this leads to the point of this post.. What defines being "black"?
It's a question that is often discussed among the African-American community, and we are quite distinct in that regard. We are the only ethnicity that places so much value on the authenticity of its members - in order to be recognized as genuinely "black", we must fully represent our "blackness"... and this "blackness" is something that we have quantified. Simply put, we must not act "white".
What defines acting "white"?
The way we tend to see it, it's speaking proper, sounding intelligent and educated. Authentic black folks don't do this; they speak in a sort of street jargon that is characterized by the frequent use of vulgarities and the word "nigga". It can be defined as being a Republican, because authentic black folks are Democrats (this will probably be examined in more detail in a future post). Hell, if your a Republican and a proud one, you can pretty much guarantee that a couple of your peers have labeled you an "Uncle Tom"... and boy you sure don't want to be labeled an "Uncle Tom" because you transcend from acting "white" to "kissing the white man's ass". The cross-eyed Republican strategist Ron Christie, who is always on some news channel, has probably been called an "Uncle Tom" more than any black man in the history of America. All of the words, expressions, and phrases we use to label an individual's "blackness" symbolize one thing - ignorance. It's crazy how we see ourselves as just as bad as a racist would see us.. but we make it a good thing. Why as a community have we placed so much bearing on ignorance? Is ignorance truly bliss? It can't be.
Is it the rappers' fault? Yeah they probably deserve some of the blame. I mean they did make it cool to murder, rob, and sell narcotics.
Is it an issue of parenting? Yeah, single parent homes and no good "baby daddys" couldn't be beneficial.
And no, I am not about to go all Bill Cosby on you. In my eyes, it is more an issue of two things: education, and history. Education is the vehicle to advance the mind; problem is, a great education costs money.. and with about 25 percent of all African-Americans living in poverty.. you see where I am going with this. A quarter of us live below the poverty line and the public education system in poverty stricken areas can be described in one word - despicable, just take a look at the D.C. school system. Combined with a history of oppression by the white race, you can see why it is so taboo to "act white". (the last officially recorded lynching was only 41 years ago folks, long time.. but not that long)
Here's my dilemma.. all my life the white people who haven't met me, are intimidated by me, because I am big, black, and I guess scary looking at times (if they only knew I was softer than a cupcake). The black folks question my authenticity - "He sounds white", or "He thinks he is better than us", or my favorite, "Oh, you got books, fuck you doin' readin' nigga?". Eventually I just gave up - I mean what can I do? I am big, black, scary looking to some, intelligent, well-spoken, different - hell I listen to the Red Hot Chilli Peppers as much I listen to Jay-Z. Coming back to the U.S. was such a culture shock to me, I was always disliked by somebody. Only recently have I grown comfortable in my own skin - I could give a fuck how you feel about me now.
See my "blackness" isn't defined by ignorance - it is defined by my thirst for knowledge, my respect for my heritage, my awareness of the progress we have made as a race - and the progress that we still must make; my love of Africa.. shit, in my eyes, that's as "black" as it gets. Being "black" isn't acting a certain way, it is a state of mind - knowing your history, knowing that because of it you have to work that much harder than the next man, knowing that there will always be someone who looks down on you because of the color of your skin. Shit, "act white"! That is how we should be representing ourselves. This is why I am such a huge fan of the Barack Obamas and the Kanye Wests - they are making it cool to be African-American, intelligent, and different. We need that balance, to give young black children something else to aspire to be. Obama has changed the perception of what a black person can become and we desperately needed that. Even if you hated every one of his policies, you cannot deny his importance to us as a race (and you can't tell me that Obama isn't swaggerific).
Times are changing, but we still pigeon-hole ourselves into these off the wall definitions of "blackness". It has to stop - and hopefully we are in the beginning of a revolution to change the conception of what it means to be black. What do you think?
Alright, I'm sick of writing, and my stomach is begging me to feed it. Until next time readers. I'm logging out.
The Martian
It's a question that is often discussed among the African-American community, and we are quite distinct in that regard. We are the only ethnicity that places so much value on the authenticity of its members - in order to be recognized as genuinely "black", we must fully represent our "blackness"... and this "blackness" is something that we have quantified. Simply put, we must not act "white".
What defines acting "white"?
The way we tend to see it, it's speaking proper, sounding intelligent and educated. Authentic black folks don't do this; they speak in a sort of street jargon that is characterized by the frequent use of vulgarities and the word "nigga". It can be defined as being a Republican, because authentic black folks are Democrats (this will probably be examined in more detail in a future post). Hell, if your a Republican and a proud one, you can pretty much guarantee that a couple of your peers have labeled you an "Uncle Tom"... and boy you sure don't want to be labeled an "Uncle Tom" because you transcend from acting "white" to "kissing the white man's ass". The cross-eyed Republican strategist Ron Christie, who is always on some news channel, has probably been called an "Uncle Tom" more than any black man in the history of America. All of the words, expressions, and phrases we use to label an individual's "blackness" symbolize one thing - ignorance. It's crazy how we see ourselves as just as bad as a racist would see us.. but we make it a good thing. Why as a community have we placed so much bearing on ignorance? Is ignorance truly bliss? It can't be.
Is it the rappers' fault? Yeah they probably deserve some of the blame. I mean they did make it cool to murder, rob, and sell narcotics.
Is it an issue of parenting? Yeah, single parent homes and no good "baby daddys" couldn't be beneficial.
And no, I am not about to go all Bill Cosby on you. In my eyes, it is more an issue of two things: education, and history. Education is the vehicle to advance the mind; problem is, a great education costs money.. and with about 25 percent of all African-Americans living in poverty.. you see where I am going with this. A quarter of us live below the poverty line and the public education system in poverty stricken areas can be described in one word - despicable, just take a look at the D.C. school system. Combined with a history of oppression by the white race, you can see why it is so taboo to "act white". (the last officially recorded lynching was only 41 years ago folks, long time.. but not that long)
Here's my dilemma.. all my life the white people who haven't met me, are intimidated by me, because I am big, black, and I guess scary looking at times (if they only knew I was softer than a cupcake). The black folks question my authenticity - "He sounds white", or "He thinks he is better than us", or my favorite, "Oh, you got books, fuck you doin' readin' nigga?". Eventually I just gave up - I mean what can I do? I am big, black, scary looking to some, intelligent, well-spoken, different - hell I listen to the Red Hot Chilli Peppers as much I listen to Jay-Z. Coming back to the U.S. was such a culture shock to me, I was always disliked by somebody. Only recently have I grown comfortable in my own skin - I could give a fuck how you feel about me now.
See my "blackness" isn't defined by ignorance - it is defined by my thirst for knowledge, my respect for my heritage, my awareness of the progress we have made as a race - and the progress that we still must make; my love of Africa.. shit, in my eyes, that's as "black" as it gets. Being "black" isn't acting a certain way, it is a state of mind - knowing your history, knowing that because of it you have to work that much harder than the next man, knowing that there will always be someone who looks down on you because of the color of your skin. Shit, "act white"! That is how we should be representing ourselves. This is why I am such a huge fan of the Barack Obamas and the Kanye Wests - they are making it cool to be African-American, intelligent, and different. We need that balance, to give young black children something else to aspire to be. Obama has changed the perception of what a black person can become and we desperately needed that. Even if you hated every one of his policies, you cannot deny his importance to us as a race (and you can't tell me that Obama isn't swaggerific).
Times are changing, but we still pigeon-hole ourselves into these off the wall definitions of "blackness". It has to stop - and hopefully we are in the beginning of a revolution to change the conception of what it means to be black. What do you think?
Alright, I'm sick of writing, and my stomach is begging me to feed it. Until next time readers. I'm logging out.
The Martian
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
The Conception - An Ode to My Hero.
"words and hugs
were not my daddy's tools
life was about work
hands were made to think
he communicated like his father
silently erecting monuments of
pauses
even his gestures had commas
in his private workshop
behind a wall of resurrected TV sets
and engine parts
collected from the side of the road
he spent his spare time
polishing granddaddy's old saws
chisels and hammers
reconstructing junk and found objects into miniature antique furniture
and scale models of his dreams
just piddlin', he'd say
deflecting accusations
of creating something beautiful
no one ever called this man
an artist
no book spine whispers his name
yet everytime I open my mouth
I can hear him sing"
Frank X. Walker
It is amazing how much I resemble my father. His mannerisms, loner attitude, and bipolar outbursts have all become apart of my personality. Growing up I never realized the similarity. I didn't want to be like him, matter of fact I wasn't even sure if I liked him. He was nothing more than an authoritarian figure, and one who's authority I didn't respect. Everyone would always say, "Deuce you look so much like your father", and I would scoff at the notion. I wanted to create my own path, my own identity, show him that I didn't need to be like him. I was young, rebellious, and a champion of my own destiny. He was so consumed by work, I never understood why he couldn't just relax, kick his feet up a little bit, smoke a cigar, live the good life. The trips he made me take to North Carolina, working all summer or on my spring breaks - fixing up houses, cleaning the family cemetery - I saw it as his way of just making me do bullshit work, to keep me from partying it up like everyone else.
As much as I tried to lessen his influence on me, I ultimately failed - it was inevitable - it is innate in every son to want to please their father. The more time we spent together - the more I began to respect him. The more I heard people talk about him - the more I admired him. The more trips to bumblefuck North Carolina - the more I began to appreciate hard work and peace of mind. The more graves I cleaned - the more I began to appreciate my family history. There is a reason why Michael Jordan's sons play basketball or Archie Manning's sons are great quarterbacks. My father is no superstar athlete though, he's a hard-working man from a small town in North Carolina, who has earned all the good fortune that his come his way. He's a true rag-to-riches story, someone who was so poor yet wouldn't let that hinder him. He was driven to succeed like a mad man. Despite possessing no college degree, he can put a computer together from scratch. In fact he is one of the most intelligent people I know. He has never forgotten where he came from, always looking to help those who are less fortunate. He loves his family making sure to do whatever he can for his 107 year old grandmother. He loves his wife, quietly playing a secondary role, supporting her as her career has climbed to incredible heights. Everyone who has ever worked with him praises him. He doesn't possess a selfish bone in his body. His best qualities are diligence, empathy, compassion - How could I not have admired this man? How could I have been so blind?
As a kid I was so caught up in the fact that my father wasn't your prototypical "great dad". He was moody, unapproachable at times - it was difficult for him to express his emotions. I don't even know if he told me loved me until I was an adult. It distracted me from seeing his more endearing qualities - while not the greatest dad, he was a great person. I know he feels as if he failed me as a father sometimes, that perhaps I would've turned out differently if he had been able to develop a better relationship with me. The fact is though he was the best father a son could have. Why?
Because I want to emulate him. The great qualities he has, are all qualities I hope people see in me. Too many young black men have no quality father figures to look up to - I did, and I consider myself fortunate. I figured the best way for me to start this blog off would be to give you a little bit of insight into who I am and who I plan to be. I am Lafayette Masteen Greenfield II, and I plan to be just like who I'm named after. I am moody, unapproachable at times - but deep down a kindhearted person. I look down upon no one, and I will never forget where my family came from. I will clean up that cemetery until the day that I am no longer physically able to do so. I plan to work hard and value everything that is given to me. I am driven to succeed, failure is not an option. I love the country, there is no better place to achieve serenity of the mind - I may move out there someday. I want to be defined as diligent, empathetic, compassionate - just like him.
My Hero.
were not my daddy's tools
life was about work
hands were made to think
he communicated like his father
silently erecting monuments of
pauses
even his gestures had commas
in his private workshop
behind a wall of resurrected TV sets
and engine parts
collected from the side of the road
he spent his spare time
polishing granddaddy's old saws
chisels and hammers
reconstructing junk and found objects into miniature antique furniture
and scale models of his dreams
just piddlin', he'd say
deflecting accusations
of creating something beautiful
no one ever called this man
an artist
no book spine whispers his name
yet everytime I open my mouth
I can hear him sing"
Frank X. Walker
It is amazing how much I resemble my father. His mannerisms, loner attitude, and bipolar outbursts have all become apart of my personality. Growing up I never realized the similarity. I didn't want to be like him, matter of fact I wasn't even sure if I liked him. He was nothing more than an authoritarian figure, and one who's authority I didn't respect. Everyone would always say, "Deuce you look so much like your father", and I would scoff at the notion. I wanted to create my own path, my own identity, show him that I didn't need to be like him. I was young, rebellious, and a champion of my own destiny. He was so consumed by work, I never understood why he couldn't just relax, kick his feet up a little bit, smoke a cigar, live the good life. The trips he made me take to North Carolina, working all summer or on my spring breaks - fixing up houses, cleaning the family cemetery - I saw it as his way of just making me do bullshit work, to keep me from partying it up like everyone else.
As much as I tried to lessen his influence on me, I ultimately failed - it was inevitable - it is innate in every son to want to please their father. The more time we spent together - the more I began to respect him. The more I heard people talk about him - the more I admired him. The more trips to bumblefuck North Carolina - the more I began to appreciate hard work and peace of mind. The more graves I cleaned - the more I began to appreciate my family history. There is a reason why Michael Jordan's sons play basketball or Archie Manning's sons are great quarterbacks. My father is no superstar athlete though, he's a hard-working man from a small town in North Carolina, who has earned all the good fortune that his come his way. He's a true rag-to-riches story, someone who was so poor yet wouldn't let that hinder him. He was driven to succeed like a mad man. Despite possessing no college degree, he can put a computer together from scratch. In fact he is one of the most intelligent people I know. He has never forgotten where he came from, always looking to help those who are less fortunate. He loves his family making sure to do whatever he can for his 107 year old grandmother. He loves his wife, quietly playing a secondary role, supporting her as her career has climbed to incredible heights. Everyone who has ever worked with him praises him. He doesn't possess a selfish bone in his body. His best qualities are diligence, empathy, compassion - How could I not have admired this man? How could I have been so blind?
As a kid I was so caught up in the fact that my father wasn't your prototypical "great dad". He was moody, unapproachable at times - it was difficult for him to express his emotions. I don't even know if he told me loved me until I was an adult. It distracted me from seeing his more endearing qualities - while not the greatest dad, he was a great person. I know he feels as if he failed me as a father sometimes, that perhaps I would've turned out differently if he had been able to develop a better relationship with me. The fact is though he was the best father a son could have. Why?
Because I want to emulate him. The great qualities he has, are all qualities I hope people see in me. Too many young black men have no quality father figures to look up to - I did, and I consider myself fortunate. I figured the best way for me to start this blog off would be to give you a little bit of insight into who I am and who I plan to be. I am Lafayette Masteen Greenfield II, and I plan to be just like who I'm named after. I am moody, unapproachable at times - but deep down a kindhearted person. I look down upon no one, and I will never forget where my family came from. I will clean up that cemetery until the day that I am no longer physically able to do so. I plan to work hard and value everything that is given to me. I am driven to succeed, failure is not an option. I love the country, there is no better place to achieve serenity of the mind - I may move out there someday. I want to be defined as diligent, empathetic, compassionate - just like him.
My Hero.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
