No, Seriously. Stop.

Aaand it’s time for another installment of What I Really Think. Not that my usual nonsense and the inane ramblings of delirium are any less me – DON’T YOU REDUCE ME, READER! – but here’s something that’s quite important to me.

Privilege. Oh, it’s so encompassing and blinding and crippling, really. And there’s more than one way to be privileged. In the context of this conversation, privilege does not refer only to the dominant default class (ie White American, and yes I sometimes or often capitalize social class identifiers and why not), it also refers to the default coupling (ie same-race-romance, whether White, Black, et cetera).

Here’s what happens: My sister, Jen-the-Twin, and I are watching old mash-up videos from Boy Meets World featuring Shawn and Angela.

Because who didn’t love Boy Meets World? No one, that’s who.

Privilege says something like: “You guys are obsessed with interracial couples.”

Excuse me?

Riiight. Here’s the deal, mon petit. Everyone who fits into the default gets the privilege of seeing themselves and their love story told and retold and retold and represented and repeatedly replayed on every station, in every movie, no matter the year. There’s nothing to think about. When you are not underrepresented, you don’t think about it, let alone “obsess” over it. You know no scarcity. (Now, the sociologist in me wants to g’head and point out that even if I’m not White/Black/whomever is constantly being portrayed – as long as I am in a homophenotypical relationship, I can relate to those couplings and it satisfies me. ::ahem:: And the same goes if we’re not the same race, but we don’t GET that we’re not the same race but no worries, I’m not going into Identity Crisisland today.)

The thing is – everyone wants to see themselves in love. That’s not the discussion. We all watch films and/or read literature and/or frequent the theatre and RARELY can you get taken in by a story that lacks all romance, subtle or not. So we can agree that the desire for a love story isn’t where my “obsession” comes into being, yes? Apparently, because it’s easy to come by, same-race romance doesn’t constitute an “obsession”, no matter how much you like it, watch it and are satisfied by its portrayal. No, no. You can only be “obsessed” with that which stands out*, I’ve found. So, my obsession is in enjoying what everyone enjoys – to have myself reflected in the story. O_o Hmm.

I write interracial, I watch interracial and neither of those do I do wholly discriminately. (If I only watched interracial, I’d have like three shows, you guys.) The point is, not only am I going to continue to be normal, I’m going to point out what’s ridiculous about being so privileged that you fail to hear the foolishness in what you’re implying.

[Insert entire thesis on related subjects - because I'm being really good right now and I need you to acknowledge the height of my self-restraint, people.]

*And before we start the discussion of oh-em-gee-there’s-a-million-interracial-couplings-now-a-days, let’s not. First of all, it’s comparative thinking and second of all, just in my lifetime, it was few and far between and always issue-oriented. Anybody remember the very special episodes of Moesha? (Was that really her name?!)

Point being, I love difference. This isn’t about saying we’re all the same. It’s about saying – before God and as far as Satan’s concerned – we’re all the same. So I’m gonna keep reading, writing, watching and loving what I do until people stop thinking it’s “cute” – i.e. until it’s no longer an issue. ::waves::

 

We Interrupt Our Program…

I was writing. But now I’ve stopped. Just for a moment, mind you, but maybe it’s more accurate to say I was stopped. Allow me to explain.

When dealing with history, one must report what actually happened. Whitewashing benefits no one. We all understand this. But I wanna talk about something I’m not sure the general populace – even of writers – understands to be an issue/concern/topic. Let us hope that I am able to articulate it without too much getting lost in translation. No guarantees though because it’s not like I ever claimed to be a wordsmith. (Er…)

My main characters (as in the MC in a story, not all the main characters of that story) tend to be Black. I feel like that requires no qualifying remark or explanation so bam. Done. The consideration with which I find myself faced, though, is that I have gotten rather fond of writing speculative fiction whose setting is shall we say, nostalgic. Steampunk is the easy one to place; I could say Alternate History as another, except that it’s (this book) not actually springing from a different outcome of a historical incident and so doesn’t really fit within that sub-genre, as I understand it. We’ll figure that out later. The point is. When you have characters of color in a time period in which things, well, sucked – so let’s say anything before the 1980s – there’s this sense that it would be a glaring omission to ignore it. Otherwise whatever you’re writing just went from science fiction to fairytale. But wait! I didn’t ask for all the baggage, yeah? Do I really have to go into ALL the ways one’s life was restricted and oppressed simply because I want my MC to have dark skin? Really?!

The easy answer is: Of course not.

When I say, easy, of course, I mean…it takes a while to get there. I have a real world setting, a real epoch. A world of difference [INSERT ME TELLING YOU ALL ABOUT THIS STORY BECAUSE HOMERDROOL]… but all that is racialicious would have no place. It would mean that every story involving a Black person (in particular) would have to be about being Black. From where I’m sitting in time, one’s life would be ruled well enough by it that it would reduce one to it. I mean, isn’t that why James Baldwin wrote Giovanni’s Room? So he didn’t have to talk about RACE, for Lord’s sake? But then it’s just the writer who’s oppressed. Forced to leave himself out. (Note: I haven’t really researched whether or not that’s why he wrote it, but it makes sense to me.) My point is: every historical Black story would be a slave, servant or otherwise oppressed story, no matter what their triumphs. And to leave that aspect out, even of a story about a world famous talent, for instance, would be insulting because it’s something they endured.

I guess the question isn’t just to myself and my muse. It’s to the readers. If I write a story set in (some version of) 1925, will your brain insist that this protagonist wouldn’t be the protagonist, couldn’t be the protagonist? (Of course, that would be to put aside all the other pieces of the story that could not have been!)  I am dealing with a period in history, there are references to the reality of that time period in the work and yet, the novel itself is not a historical piece. I choose to cut out what I don’t care for. Not as a student of history, but as an artist. It has no place in this book. Believe me, I couldn’t whitewash history without rewriting my own parents’ lives and it’s not something I’d care to do. But when I’m working? I reserve the right to reject it.

 

UPDATE: Tumblr Length

Update: Italian Vogue has – since yesterday – edited the entry. They are now called Ethnic Earrings and the mention of slavery has been completely removed. Carry on.

Jewellery has always flirted with circular shapes, especially for use in making earrings. The most classic models are the slave and creole styles in gold hoops.

If the name brings to the mind the decorative traditions of the women of colour who were brought to the southern Unites States during the slave trade, the latest interpretation is pure freedom. Colored stones, symbolic pendants and multiple spheres. And the evolution goes on.

Anna Bassi, Vogue Gioiello n. 109, March 2010

You’re welcome. And also, make of that what you will.I tried to write out/decide on my own reaction to it and couldn’t get anywhere, so I’m sticking with simply gobsmacked, neutral as far as good or bad. (NOTE: The bold and italics are not mine, btw. That’s the way it’s published if you follow the link to Italian Vogue.)

 

Mother’s Day and Mother of Mercy

My 1st grader was very excited for Mother’s Day this year. He came home the week before and wished me a Happy Mother’s Day. To which I  >.> and <.< … and then said “thanks”.  In the days that followed, he continuously explained how excited I was (yes, me, not him – methinks my little boy was projecting un peu mais c’est encore mignon) and how well I should be! He had three presents prepared for me. The wait. She was indeed cruel. But finally, the Friday before the big day arrived and after closing my eyes, my son (who may have been jumping up and down by this point) gave me my gifts!

I didn’t videotape or take pictures. (Elena. I have failed you.) But! I can still show you the loveliness! (There’s an annoying sound in the back…is it just me?)

Pweshus.

And now for the Mother of Mercy part. (It’s an exasperation, fyi.) In other news, I am on a writing schedule for my wip, tentatively called Cait After Exile (gasp! applause!) – and I’m in LARVE with it. It’s pretty much the exact same way I felt last July when I was writing Avrilis. I love it. There’s a world that has to be created so there’s definite planning and plotting going on but the best thing is ALWAYS when you meet characters you didn’t know would exist, then those characters end up revealing the story or you mention something in the course of writing a scene whose purpose you knew but then the thing you mention reveals the next step. It’s gorgeous. I love it. (I know, we’ve talked about My Favorite Moments In Writing before, but it never stops being delicious.)

As I said last time, this book and the one before it are both YA. As you know, everything else I’ve written in the last 10 years has been adult, literary and most of it heavy because it deals with a lot of social commentary. Writing these two YA has been SUCH an exhilirating experience because for sci-fi/fantasy/dystopian (which doesn’t appeal to me in adult fiction quite as much) you are rewriting the world. Anything is possible. And writing about real life, for which I have a passion especially when it comes to the Black American predicament, is not always fun intense. It’s real life intense. Vitriol and argument can and shockingly do ensue, denial and accusation. Our entire worth has been assigned to this identity and we don’t all agree on what it entails or how empowerment and success is defined. Some of us are just trying to say, THAT PROVES MY POINT.

Le sigh.

The point is: Ezra makes the world better.

And that, I am rejuvenated and – after this wip – can’t wait to reread TMLA aka The White Whale!

 

Check Yourself Before You Wreck Yourself.

You know what’s distracting? White kids in The Last Airbender. See, the Hubs and I got pretty into the Nickelodeon series, which was remarkably easy to do. It was pretty sweet. So, I was immediately confused by the actors. And yes, I was already aware of the controversy that fell when the movie was first coming out. (And at this point can I mention without giving details but yes it’s totally related and if you already follow his twitter you’ll know what I’m talking about – *inhale* – Gabe of Penny Arcade is hilarious.) I just…had no idea how t-o’d I would be within mere MOMENTS of the movie beginning. First of all, it looked like crap. And I do mean LOOKED, as in the actual visuals were IMMEDIATELY disappointing. Did M. Night Shamalamadingdong even WATCH the show before he raped it of its bonnie-ness? Because WOW. You can’t make this stuff up.

And yeah, full disclosure? I haven’t resumed watching it yet but the horrible dialogue, visuals, white kids – oh wait, except for the Fire Nation peeps…why’s that, mon frere – and M.Night-ness have got me pretty convinced that this is going nowhere good.

Which brings us to the next potential victim of white-washing which can we just take a minute and look at the calendar and the 2011-ness of it all and ask ourselves why this is still happening?! The Hunger Games. Yes. Jezebel summed it up and honestly I hadn’t even blinked at the blonde girl they want to cast. I’m apparently complacent and too accustomed to Hollywood.  From Jezebel:

Collins’ world includes several more key characters who are either explicitly non-white or whose ethnic background is left more ambiguous, including love-interest Gale, mentor-figure Haymitch and a young black girl named Rue, Katniss’s closest and the star of some of the novel’s most gripping action scenes.

Because honestly, Suzanne Collins is apparently being punished for not making stereotypical and offensive references to REALLY ensure everyone gets who’s not white in her book. Subtly? Not ready for that, Ms. Collins, we want racial slurs, if possible.

And finally? The Book of Eli did not disappoint me. What is it with me and post-apocalyptic, dusty, depressing books/movies? Love ‘em. And guess what? This. ‘Cause the music did it for me. If I were still a dancer, you best believe I’d be all over this soundtrack. I have a feeling my sister Ana’ll hear me on this one.

P.S.? I’m pretty sure M.Night hates himself.

 

Moravia, You Slay Me

Josh found books yesterday.

Aside from a book in Polish, a few outdated commentaries that aren’t even interesting enough for a lark and a few that were simply too desperate to repair (a book by Martin Luther King and a Max Weber collection – EEEEEEEEEEEEE!), there were a couple that I just have to share with you before we give them a traditional viking funeral.

First up is “a brilliant gathering of a world-famous psychiatrist’s most important writings”. Which. Are entitled, Of Love and Lust. Because I want to know what a psychiatrist thinks of romantic emotions…wait, no I don’t. Particularly one who begins explaining himself through the use of words like “definitively”….

So, Dr. Something-or-other takes on Christ’s commandment to love thy neighbor. And for all of you who don’t have degrees in the field of psychiatry, he explains what that’s really all about. “The secret meaning of the injunction…is to love them to their shame, to their destruction…One can love them by humiliating oneself, by being humble and thus proving how superior one is.” He concludes that Christ was ingenious in deciding to degrade someone by loving them. O_O The saddest proof that man can’t be cured of his preoccupation with the God in whom he doesn’t want to believe. If only he weren’t so sure of himself.

Next – the thing de resistance – is a book by Alberto Moravia. It’s a collection of stories entitled The Wayward Wife. Of course, I was instantly intrigued. (No. I wasn’t.) But that was only before I read the list of his other books: The Two of Us, Paradise, Command and I Will Obey You, Roman Tales, The Lie, The Fetish, Conjugal Love (what?!), and The Time of Indifference. I can see he tried to sneak in a misleading title at the end. He was a clever minx.

After reading the rather uninspired back cover copy – below which there is a quote from The Observer boasting that Moravia is “One of the greatest literary craftsmen of our time” – I wasn’t horribly interested in even skimming the book. I checked the era, copyright 1952, and out of the corner of my eye saw the short story title, “The Negro and the Old Man with the Bill-Hook” (1948).

Should I? Darest I?!

So, the story is about a man taking a walk along the beach with a girl he prays will be easy. (Yep.) She’s Italian – perhaps they both are, since the hero’s name is Cosimo – and “every time Cora spoke, his desire faded away, giving place to contempt”, poor guy. Anyway, the best thing about her is her belly that swallows up her navel and her enormous, gargantuan hips. (Yep.) But then this Negro in military uniform (which I guess is more to the point than calling him an American soldier) appears, laying on Cora’s shoulder “a large black hand, with purple nails”. His voice was “urgent with desire” and he basically demands that she come away and walk with him. So the girl goes with the Negro (I’m desperately sorry but that’s all the name Moravia gave the fellow so I’ve nothing else to call him) and Cosimo follows them from a distance. After all, “He remembered having heard of the attraction that Negroes held for some white women, and he thought that Cora must be one of these”.

So Cora’s walking around with the Negro – who’s a giant, don’t ya know – and Cosimo, “frightened, indignant”, says, “The b*#$@… she won’t do that with me, but she will with the Negro.” He’s crying and cursing her as he watches them and then, upon passing a fisherman, Cora breaks away from the Negro and takes shelter behind the strange old fisherman who swipes at the Negro with the bill-hook until he wanders off and here’s ole Cosimo with egg on his face, for how will he explain his cowardice? And Cora, she knows just what to say: “What could you do? …He was a giant, that man….Oh, I was frightened…” for you see, “She had many more things to say of the danger of Negroes”. Then they get in the car and prepare to head home and finally, FINALLY she kisses Cosimo.

But in her kiss… “he was aware of something that had nothing at all to do with him, something that had been awakened by the yearning, sing-song voice of the Negro and by the fisherman’s bill-hook. And he felt, at the same time, both remorse and jealousy.”

Fin.

And I can hear some of you now – “You have to take into consideration the era in which PFFFFFFFFFFFFFT”. Yes, I do. I have to – no, I insist that we take into consideration just how low and ugly we allowed ourselves to be (using, of course, the editoral “we” ’cause I’m Black, y’all – HAH, shout out to CB4) and whether we’re far enough graduated beyond it.

 

My Lovely Blog

Today, I have Miss Rosemary to thank for this new blog award. Merci beaucoup, cherie! I do so love the image!

As I recently did the seven things about me – and also as I must get to work on my STILL UNTITLED book – I shall spare you another retelling, though I’m considering sharing seven things Ezra says at a later date. Aaaand, also, since you already know the personal blogs I frequent, I will promise to add to the recipient list as I find more exciting blogs!

So, the three blogs I want to share with you.

(1) My tiny big sister’s brand spanking new personal fashion site, Pretty in PDX. If you haven’t guessed, she lives in Portland – which pretty much means she’s hipster cool, no? She are adorable, me believe.

(2) My little big sister’s (admittedly infrequently updated) blog, Haute in CA, which is entirely fashionista and deserves more attention than a full-time student and mama can sometimes give. But I figure if we bug her, she’ll get on it. And it is really lovely.

And finally (3) is the blog of writer/journalist/should-be-a-sociologist, Debra J Dickerson. You may have seen her principle blog on my roll (and now here) – Ms. Debra deserves a proper introduction. In August of 2004, I was introduced to an article of hers (entitled Racist Like Me, which you should read if you’re an observer/participant of the American community). I was writing TMLA, my novel involving muchos de social commentary, and I was blown away. In my experience – and I had just graduated with my BA in Sociology in March of that year – my thoughts, convictions and interpretations of historical and social theory were confounding to the ears of others, to say the least. Here she was supporting not only my theories but defending my right/ability/capability to posit them AND be in an interracial relationship. (Sigh) It all sounds so obvious….

Anyway! I wrote her a long, blathering email – because it didn’t occur to me that she might not want to hear everything about me and what I thought – and was shocked and awed and shawed to receive a response not long after. (Yes, I have these emails and all the ones since.) I’m not sure she ever realized what an amazing correspondence this has been for me and how it made me want to be the same for a young sociologist some day.

To find out more about Debra, aside from visiting her primary blog which I assume you’ve done by this point, visit her ChipIn site as well. And for spurts of hilarity or information, follow her on Twitter!

And. I think that more than makes up for only having three recipients.

 

Everybody Get Together…Or Else

I hope it’s just “from a distance”, but my country seems to be going mad. I have the worst feeling when I read about the politics in the US and the spill and the other natural disasters. For every self-righteous soapbox owner who claimed God’s wrath had hit Haiti, please use your logical prowess to explain what the heck is happening back home. Or don’t immediately claim God’s wrath to explain the inexplicably painful – in reality, knowing He is still in charge, that He uses what others mean for evil, that’s the only thing that keeps me from wondering who’s going to have the bright idea to repeal the Emancipation Proclamation.

~

In other news, my husband looks like he’s just been liberated from the Matrix. And apparently, people think he looks more “friendly” with hair. (shrug) He still smizes.

In still other news, I hadn’t been sending out new queries for Callisto’s Charm, my ya for the Christian market. Then suddenly, Chip MacGregor announced not only that the agency would be taking proposals but that there is a new agent, looking to specialize in YA (and related genres). Shweet, I said. And query, I did. (Take a look at that link back there whether you write for general or Christian market.)

Otherwise, I haven’t been working as much on my series bible – of course, there’s only one episode left to outline, so it’s not like it’s in some unmanageable heap of Homer never gave his robot legs or anything.

Aaaaand querying/reading-through/writerly things pretty much sums up the rest.

NEED to study French.

 

Toni Morrison on Honorary Whiteness, etc

Comme d’habitude, Tayari’s blog had something quite interesting today – especially because today it involved Toni Morrison. *Pauses for angelic chorus* Anyway, if you aren’t familiar with her blog, you should bookmark it – I always enjoy it and it’s a very engaging glimpse of one writer/teacher/mentor’s career (not to mention travels!).

Of course, I’m posting the video here for your enjoyment. It’s something that can be so obvious an obstacle (so to speak) to those of us who have no choice but to be familiar with it and at the same time, I’m sure, can be foreign to someone whose experience does not include it. Which is how we’ll always be able to track where and when a “postracial” era begins. If my experience is a mystery, we’re further from that then if you simply hadn’t moved to change it.

As I commented on Tayari’s blog, I know that many Black Americans – particularly those of us who were nurtured down a particular academic course or have had the occasion to be mentored in some talent – have been “complimented” in a way that delivered us from the stereotype. Leaving the stereotype intact. I’ve had boys tell me I’m not “really like other Black girls, you know”. I’ve had teachers/professors insist that I shouldn’t “restrict” myself by writing “only” Black characters – and by the way, show me a Black writer who honestly does… moreso it’s a question of the world being whitewashed, not the other way around. I, personally, have no interest in segregation. But I also have no interest in being an exception. First of all because how could I be and secondly because how offensive and telling that anyone would think that a compliment. In short, I’m not anything I am in spite of being Black. Or female. Mostly Black. I like it. It’s intriguing. It’s engaging. I’m gonna write about it. I shouldn’t have to not be Black American for other Americans to honor their national and cultural heritage to recognize how meaningful that story is. And I can’t wait for another young girl – and hopefully she won’t have to be Black – to read Cora in The Momentary Light Afflictions and have a strong reaction or opinion of her own. Okay, so I guess the woman side of it is a big deal to me, too.

 

Morning Joe Makes Me Lose My Lunch

If you can make it through this entire video, I applaud you. You’ll face a gauntlet of obstinate ignorance (“statistical fact”…um… facts don’t have percentages, for one), unprofessionalism (I’m referring to the host in all of these) and finally – by which I mean right before I turned it off – an absolute lack of tact and humanity. “If public schools are so great (in 2010) then why’d your mother pulled strings to get you out of NY public schools (in the 1960s and the person being addressed is Black)!”

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/21134540/vp/35949239#35946995

If you don’t understand exactly HOW ridiculous that statement and how absolutely unacceptable that an argument on the state of public schools in NY would suddenly become personal and crass… I don’t know what to tell you. The fact that this man is gainfully employed while spouting such ugliness under the guise of intelligent and critical thought is nearly enraging.

For every person who has ever told me that they’re tired of talking about race – so are we. It seems we cannot have a civilized conversation – after years of higher education, endless qualification and experience – without it becoming a factor, however. At what point did this guest’s own childhood come under fire? At what point was the insensitivity of bringing up desegregation that personally affected that guest permissible? At what point did anyone else sitting around that table decide, that was low brow. I don’t know. I didn’t finish the video.