Salty Pretzels: Cultural Misappropriation

Halloween is coming. You may already know that it is one of my favorite holidays and I am looking forward to some family cosplay this year now that the Kid is in school. However, I am already over the annual ritual of policing costume choices on the basis of race and culture (a sin most often committed by white people), also known as cultural appropriation.

I engaged in an exchange with someone online last year about this issue and it ended in a stalemate because she was dug into the idea that certain costumes and characters are "for us" exclusively while other costumes and characters are universal. I take issue with that position, and I am willing to risk being the lone voice in the wilderness this Halloween because I am actually looking forward to seeing how many little white kids decide to dress up as the Black Panther.

But before we address children's costume choices, let's set the ground rules for everyone over the age of you-should-know-better-than-that-isht. Here it is: dress in a costume, not as a culture. Don't unleash your racist urges by dressing up in blackface and skip the feathered headresses and warpaint. There is no reason to dress like a Klansman or as a Nazi because you already know that ain't funny. And don't get precious if you are called out for being that asshole and you end up losing your job or your scholarship. You've been warned.

So now, let's turn our attention to the fuzzy area between costumes and culture. For example, what if a child wants to dress up as Nacho Libre? Lucha Libre is a Mexican wrestling cultural tradition, so was the character portrayed by Jack Black, a white guy, an appropriation or was it a homage? According to the PC argument, dressing as a luchadore if you're not Mexican might be considered offensive. So might dressing your daughter up as a geisha if she's not Asian (Japanese specifically) or dressing as a hula dancer if you're not Hawaiian. If you're not French, can you dress like a mime or a can-can dancer? If you aren't Australian, would Crocodile Dundee be problematic? If taken to its most illogical stretches of the imagination it could be (and has been) argued that dressing as a cowboy if you aren't from out West also could be offensive.

See how quickly it goes downhill? I haven't even gotten to the Disney characters that were at issue in the argument I had last year. And if we keep on going, then it gives all of those still-living-in-their-mama's-basement racists an excuse to complain when characters that historically have been white get recast (such as Spiderman).

I am not making light of a serious issue, nor am I joining the dark side by making fun of political correctness. I am merely suggesting that certain cultural expressions can be costumes in the appropriate context. We can cite examples from the past where it was obvious the intent was to poke fun of or ridicule other cultures, such as Mickey Rooney's very unfortunate depiction of an Asian neighbor in Breakfast at Tiffany's. But I think that we go too far when we complain about a child dressed as Mulan, even if she isn't Chinese.


We also go too far when we argue that certain characters belong to specific communities. The key word is character. Mulan is a Disney character who happens to be Chinese, but are we suggesting that only little Chinese girls can see themselves reflected in her story? (BTW, you've probably guessed that she is my favorite Disney Princess because she isn't technically a princess, but is a heroine.) Does that mean that my only options for my daughter are Tiana or Elena of Avalor or Doc McStuffins? And do we seriously believe that white girls have "enough" alternatives so they should be discouraged from even considering Tiana, Doc McStuffins, Shuri, Elena, Jasmine, Pocahontas or Mulan?

Halloween is supposed to be fun. In addition to having a sufficient stash of allergy-free treats (gluten-free unsalted pretzels and stickers), I also have to worry about dressing my child in something age-appropriate that isn't too sexualized. I have to plan for several Halloween events and come up with ideas for my own costume. And then I have to prepare for Thanksgiving and Christmas. I have a lot of Busy Black Woman stuff on my plate, so the last thing I need to worry about is offending some graduate student accidentally or on purpose.

Trigger Warnings

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No Escape

I am literally sitting in front of the television in the few minutes before the confirmation hearing resumes for Brett Kavanaugh. It might take the rest of the day for me to finish this piece because I do plan to watch as much of this as I can before I need to scoop the Kid from school.

Yesterday as I was headed to get her, I thought about how I spend a great deal of time watching the cable news and how I now regard watching anything other than the news as a distraction. How I hope to watch the reboot of Murphy Brown this evening, but depending on what unfolds today, I might need to rethink that plan. How watching the news or listening to the news and then processing anything seems nearly impossible in an unrelenting news cycle.

This came to me as I was listening to the President ramble on through remarks about whatever because pretty much whenever I hear him, I do my best not to imagine the womp, womp, womp trombone sound from the Peanuts cartoons. I am convinced his intention is to overwhelm us to the point of paralysis because perpetual outrage is exhausting as hell.

In addition to the constant breaking news that tells us little to nothing, we are always on edge. We are always waiting to see what nonsense and fuckery is next on the horizon. Such as today, I am convinced that if these hearings prove to be even slightly damaging to the nominee, the President will fire the Deputy Attorney General to reset the news cycle. (<----- It was noon when I wrote that, so we shall see.) I have no prediction if that also means that some other bombshell might be waiting to drop.

Are you as physically, emotionally, and mentally depleted as I am? As I have been since as far back as I can remember? I realize that a great deal of my energy is expended on the Kid, who is a human whirlwind of boundless, never-ending kinetic motion...until she goes to sleep. And I cannot help but to look upon the President as a 70+ year old version--the same petulance, the same uncontrollable emotions, the same insatiable need for attention.

I've been reassured that my child will grow out of this phase. Dear God I hope so. And I guess if we are lucky, our country will be rid of a certain person as of January 21, 2021 (if not sooner, and I am definitely counting the days). I don't think it is hyperbole to suggest that we as a country cannot survive another four years of this.

And here is where I took a break to run some errands before I picked the Kid up from school. I continued to listen to and/or watch the hearing throughout the day and whew, talk about a hot mess. So I guess I was wrong. After what I witnessed today, it appears we are settled into the idea of perpetual chaos as the new normal. That's the only way I can describe what I saw so to invoke the imagery that the nominee himself referenced, we sowed the wind, now we reap the whirlwind.

Shades of Gray

I have been struggling with the allegation against Supreme Court nominee Brett Kavanaugh. It is seriously a terrible situation all around, and I don't exactly know what the resolution should be. I have my own political feelings about this nomination, but my concern isn't about what his addition would mean to the Court. This is about the impact it will have on my daughter.

I was 15 nearly thirty years ago. It was the late 80s. I wasn't very popular, so there were not a lot of boys beating down my door. I spent a lot of time with my family. I spent a lot of time in church. I spent a lot of time alone in my room. (This could be my life today...) Whenever I did attend a party or a church function, I hoped to get some nice boy's attention. Not in a sexual way, but in the way that girls and boys interacted on sitcoms and in the way we remember John Hughes' films. The way they interact on Disney Channel shows nowadays.

If I had been at a pool party like the one that brought Brett Kavanaugh and Christine Blasey Ford together, I can only imagine that I would have been flattered if some guy had flirted with me. And if things had gone too far out of control as she suggested they did, I can admit that my reaction would have been the same as hers. NO ONE would ever have known.

I am not about to reveal any deep dark secrets that will ruin someone's future chances of ever sitting in a position of power. Like all teenagers and young adults, I had experiences in high school, college, and even in law school that I would rather not recount in detail. I was never raped or sexually assaulted, but I did end up in a cab very late one night after being put out of a guy's apartment because I didn't want to have sex with him. Yes, I had been drinking.

I was lucky. He thought he was doing me a favor by not forcing me, and all these years later, I can admit that I am grateful. Because if he had not been the asshole who put me out on the street instead of the asshole who forced himself upon me, I can't even...

As I was writing this, I read about the other allegation made against Kavanaugh and well, it definitely fits into the premise I was building to here, which is how our definition of sexual assault has evolved a lot since the 80s when he was a young man. It has even changed since I was a young woman in the 90s. Although I am about ten years younger than Kavanaugh and his accusers, I am old enough to recall how rape and sexual violence were defined in that era. Rape was a stranger attacking an unsuspecting woman wearing a mini skirt in a dark alley. Sexual assault was not part of our vocabulary. Neither was date rape.

I say this not to justify or offer an explanation for anyone's behavior. I mention this because we didn't have the language to describe those gray areas of sexual contact then, but that doesn't make any of it acceptable now.

We were young. We were hormonal. We were naive. We were afraid to say no. We were already too far into it. We were drunk. We were high. We were just trying to have a good time. We were trying to fit in. We were just having fun, but then...

These statements are not unique to any specific environment, such as elite private prep schools, Ivy League universities, public schools, military academies, or HBCUs. All of us need to understand that there is behavior that crosses a line into that gray area, and once that happens and there isn't consent to proceed, then there is a problem. And that can ruin someone's life.

I mentioned the impact all of this would have on my daughter, who is still three years old. But one day she will be a 15 year old and the talk I want to have with her about encounters with members of the opposite sex should not include the warning that no one will believe her if. I do not want the words that follow that if to perpetuate systematic inequality. And I don't want her to carry around the burden of secret shame for nearly twenty five years (or more).

Salty Pretzels: Watching Black TV

Why is it that every time we decide to watch a black sitcom/drama/movie, some of y'all respond with a master's thesis of analysis? Why can't we just laugh/cry and move on to more important stuff like electing black governors in Georgia and Florida and Maryland?

I haven't written anything substantive about Insecure, and I promise, this will not be another bloated, self-important, over-analysis of the last episode or of anything that has already aired in the last two seasons. All I need to say is that I enjoy the show. I am just happy to watch something on TV that doesn't air on the Disney channel or PBS Kids. For half an hour, I get to change the channel from MSNBC or CNN or a rerun of a sitcom I used to watch. #thatisall

So why do folks have to deconstruct everything with the objective of making us mindful and reflective about what we're watching? Did y'all do this for Sex and the City and I missed it because I didn't have HBO back then? Is every episode of a black sitcom a very special episode? Why does this annoy me so much?

Let me back up to what made me open this family sized bag of stale, sour cream and onion flavored pretzels. It was last summer when some chick uploaded her feelings onto Facebook Live about the movie Girls Trip and it went viral. Admittedly, some of my saltiness had a lot to do with the fact that her commentary was damn near an hour long, yet still got re-posted multiple times (like who seriously watched that entire video). But now, some of y'all are similarly going in on Insecure and making way too much about the larger meaning of life as a 30-something black woman in Los Angeles.

Chill. It is not that deep. Let me summarize: Issa is a damn mess. So are ALL of her friends.

Now, I am not trying to stop us from having legitimate post-show discussions on social media about the return of Lawrence, Dro's lying ass, or whether Nathan is a fugitive from witness protection. Those conversations are fun. It reminds me of how we all bonded over Scandal just a few years ago, and how we are still trying to understand that Teddy Perkins episode of Atlanta. That level of pondering is entirely appropriate.

But when it gets to the point of questioning whether these characters are written with a realism based on authentic black female relationships (and yes, someone really went all the way there), I just can't. When some public health professional feels the need to criticize the show for all of the unprotected sex but didn't catch how they handled that with a character developing chlamydia, that feels a wee bit like overthinking things unnecessarily. Hello, Ross and Rachel, anyone?

It is a TV show. Just watch...or don't.

I get that whenever we see black people on TV, we want to see them in a positive light, but unless we are watching the local news, I think we need to become less uptight about how every character is portrayed. We need to accept nuance and multifaceted humanity. People are messy and indecisive and smart and stuck up and very often, make questionable decisions. Since I mentioned Sex and the City, can we just admit that Carrie Bradshaw and Issa (and Molly) make many of the same damn mistakes with men? If you watched SATC for any length of time, how could you not question her judgment with respect to Mr. Big and how they ended up married in that terrible movie? Are you certain that you wouldn't sit around at brunch and talk about Samantha while she's in the bathroom?

We place too heavy a burden on entertainment to uplift the race. And I am speaking from experience, because I have definitely been a proponent of respectability television in the past. When it was still politically correct to complain about BET, I did so. I admit to being snobbish about which reality TV shows I will watch. I have plenty of issues with certain stereotypes and tropes, but I realize that if we really want to see ourselves in all of our complicated glory, then we have to accept that not every black man on a sitcom will be Dr. Heathcliff Huxtable. And speaking of...he famously lambasted the premise of Living Single because he assumed it to be a show about something that it was not.

My point--let the show run its course without any of the baggage of our historical and sociological expectations of perfection over quality. Remember Frank's Place (of course not, because it only ran for one season and never reruns)...so just enjoy this great moment in black television that finds a black woman starring in her own show that she created.

Black in Fashion III - September Issues and Fashion Week

New York Fashion Week has come to an end and as I sit here in my unfashionable sweatshirt and sleep cap, I can only dream of the day when I get to be fabulous enough to be wearing the same ensemble while blogging from my hotel room after a whirlwind weekend of shows and parties. Just putting it out there for February 2019, btw...

This has been a crazy week, so I will admit that this third installment of my #BlackinFashion series is posting later than I anticipated and is abridged from my initial vision. Instead of a series posted to social media, there is just this digest because I ran out of time. And in a week that included the Congressional Black Caucus Annual Conference, an unending news cycle of Presidential insanity, a hurricane, and life in all of its chaotic glory, I think this is pretty good four five days after the fact.

Somewhere I saw a headline that touted the presence of black women on every major September fashion issue...but that wasn't exactly the case. THE major September Issue with a black woman on the cover this month is VOGUE, and this is not just another Beyonce picture on the cover, it is a photo taken by an artist that she personally selected. And that artist, Tyler Mitchell, is a 23 year old who has the honor of being the first black photographer to shoot a cover for VOGUE. There is also a rare interview. If you haven't gotten the issue yet...(yeah, me too).

I did happen to snag a copy of Glamour, a magazine that I only ever read at the nail salon. But the September cover girl is comedian Tiffany Haddish, who is definitely having a moment. In addition to pissing off Katt Williams for no apparent reason other than jealousy, she is in at least three forthcoming films. Since they both won Emmys maybe they can hug it out (and maybe some generous designer will give her something other than that Alexander McQueen dress to wear...not that we don't appreciate her keeping it real). But once you appear on the cover of a fashion magazine, designers should be taking note.

I came across this cover of ELLE UK featuring a pregnant model named Slick Woods, who just in the past couple of days made headlines for giving birth hours after walking in the Savage x Fenty show! Apparently, she was in labor during her trot down the catwalk, but no worries because Erykah Badu was chilling backstage just waiting to be her doula.

Speaking of Rihanna, she appears on the cover of Edward Enninful's first September Issue as editor at British VOGUE. I shan't address the matter of Kanye West and his children on the cover of Harper's Bazaar, but will point out that Zoe Kravitz is on the October cover. Zendaya is on the cover of Marie Claire and if you are looking for anyone else, take a look through this list of September Issue covers.

I am still old school when it comes to following fashion, so as everyone else turns to Instagram to keep up with the trends, I am unsure if the author of this article is right. However, if the outpouring of emotion over the death of fashion blogger and influencer named Kyrzayda Rodriguez, who succumbed to stomach cancer last week is any indication of the future, perhaps Anna Wintour is presiding over a dying medium?

Unlikely, at least in the short term. Anna still gets front row seats at the shows, and her magazine has helped to spotlight some of these black designers and models who were featured during New York Fashion Week September 5-12, 2018:

Bella Rene - website

Cushnie - ELLE article

Carlton Jones - website

Pyer Moss - VOGUE article

Salem Mitchell - VOGUE article

Telfar - PAPER article

Finally, I have to mention that I learned a new term this week, "lewks" thanks to my imaginary sister-in-law, Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez. I just happened to be reading through my Twitter timeline the other day and read how she had been attacked over an expensive outfit she wore for this interview. While I am convinced that this pettiness has a lot to do with Ocasio-Cortez's refusal to buy any of the wolf tickets sold by the folks who need better hobbies, this entire controversy emphasizes the point of this series. A fashion statement has social, economic, personal, and political implications. And the statements aren't just made by the clothes (take note of the model in the Tommy Hilfiger ad, Winnie Harlow). Fashion can be dismissed by people who take themselves way too seriously as superficial, but in the process they miss the broader message.

The Birth of a Radical

Today marks one of those solemn anniversaries that we must commemorate, even as some would prefer that we allow it to fade. When I say some I mean those who say that these memories are too painful, that exposing them to such pain is unfair. The some who wince and whine "that was so long ago" or "why dredge up the past when we've come so far"...

Those same some who blame victims who die under suspicious circumstances.

Nevertheless, today is my Dad's 71st birthday. Fifty-five years ago, on his 16th birthday, an act of domestic terrorism occurred at the Sixteenth Street Baptist Church in Birmingham, Alabama that resulted in the deaths of four girls who were inside the church, two other young people who were killed in related incidents, and severe injuries to at least 20 others.

My father and so many other young people, were radicalized by that church bombing. They took to the streets to join civil rights protests (having only just participated in one of the largest to take place in Washington just weeks earlier). At the end of a tumultuous decade of activism that included sit-ins, freedom schools, voter registration efforts, anti-war protests, and the election of Richard Nixon, many of those young people continued their work in different arenas. My Dad went into academia, while others went into business, entertainment, journalism, public service, and other fields.

Looking at those four faces frozen in time (which I have done many, many times), I think of what could have been had those young women not be killed in that church. What if the casualties had been four adolescent young men or four older deacons? What if the church members had heeded the warning call and evacuated the premises? What if one or more of the bombers had a sudden change of heart about bombing a place of worship? What if...

When we recall these historical tragedies and ask these questions, we realize that the answers are complicated. We might not be where we are at this current moment. We wonder about what could have been and realize that even horrific incidents serve a purpose in shaping those of us who survive. Their deaths were not in vain.

For years, my Dad told me how this incident impacted him as a young man. How he transferred to Howard University from Merrimack College to be more involved in the movement. How he met Stokely Carmichael and rode with him to Mississippi during the summer of 1966 against my grandmother's wishes. How the events of 1968 left him disillusioned. How he and his friends gravitated to Pan-Africanism which is how their children have African names like Ayanna, Mossi, Sekou, Massai, and Nia. How his commitment to black political empowerment meant that he refused to move to the suburbs, even during the crack epidemic.

How I believe that when the young people from Parkland, Florida led a march on DC earlier this year, mobilized by the senseless tragedy at their school, people like my Dad (their grandparents) saw shadows of themselves. 

To the some who question why we insist that we will never forget those four girls, I note how we insist on remembering the nearly 3,000 who died on September 11, 2001. That despite the claims of our current President, who somehow believes that he did everyone a favor by merely being born, we will remember the nearly 3,000 lives that were lost in Puerto Rico after Hurricane Maria. We will remember those lives lost during Hurricane Katrina, at Sandy Hook Elementary, in Chicago, and those who die daily in this opioid crisis. For every tragic death that we recall--whether in war, natural disaster, senseless violence, or even by accident, on those dates radicals are born.

Radical parents who run for elected office in their child's memory. Radical classmates who advocate for legislation to avert future tragedies. Radical children and siblings who march in the streets. Radical artists who write lyrics and paint murals and film documentaries to express our pain. Radical educators, journalists, entrepreneurs, and activists.

Happy Birthday Daddy. Rest in peace Addie Mae, Cynthia, Carole, and Denise.