Source & Re-Source
The week in review. Let’s see. Well, it seemed to include lots of honking horns. Squealing brakes. Me dangerously strolling through it all like a ghost.
So many questions I grappled with. So, so many especially around myself as I relate or don’t to other black women.
For starters, there are only about four other black women that ever ride my daily express bus. Each morning, In that dim modular space between point A and point B as I ignore the other passengers on purpose and vice versa, I have always noticed a certain tension between us. It’s as if we’re breaking a taboo by not all sitting together in one designated area of the bus.
It finally happened and the other night I found myself in Manhattan in the bus queue with one of these other black women. I’m shivering and pogoing up and down as I tend to do when I’m cold and I notice her eyes flash with amusement when she says: are you cold?
I state the obvious when I tell her that I’m freezing. She seems taken aback. I’m left feeling like a game show contestant that just gave the wrong answer. Then another one of the black women who I see from time to time on the bus appears and the two of them jump into a dialogue with lots of happy ‘girl,’ ‘chile,’ and eye rolling even though it seems a bit tongue in cheek.
Once on the bus, the two sit side by side and continue talking and I wonder what it was about me being demonstrably cold that may have been so odd.
Then there’s a young woman about twenty years younger who I find myself beside on a sofa at a casual after work gathering.
During my first attempt at small talk with her, I couldn’t help but notice that her deep brown face was almost completely lost inside tendrils of silky Barbie hair. In fact she was completely trapped inside a web of artificial hair and thick make up and even spoke in a tiny Barbie voice that couldn’t possibly have been real.
I’ve noticed that the great rapper, Lil Kim, has become a Barbie doll of late too. Anyway, I inquired into what she did, and after she had responded, it was not at all clear to me what it was she actually did which is often the case these days in this complex business environment but I had a strong feeling by the way she was speaking that she was trying to make a certain impact and what she actually said didn’t matter. It was all in the delivery.
I dare to peek through the thickness of her disguise at one moment and it’s like looking into an unlit room where you sense someone hiding. I tried to break the ice once more, but her Barbie tones grew more shrill like a radio when it’s broken or seagull emitting signals of distress and I moved onto another area of the room.
Then, there’s my favorite aunt. I stopped by to visit her and raid her photo albums the other day. She has the oldest family albums in the family and I love to go through them and talk to her about different relatives, share stories that the photos evoke, but this trip I wanted her to let me leave with photos and make copies of them for myself which I didn’t think she’d agree to – she’s always kept these albums in impeccable condition and very well guarded.
But when I finally got the nerve to stop browsing and ask her, she not only encouraged me to start making copies of whatever I liked, she also mentioned she was thinking of leaving her photo albums for me ‘to manage’ when she passed because she thought they meant the most to me more than anyone else and I couldn’t believe she felt that way or express how honored I was.
Anyway, another high point last week was an email exchange with the daughter I would’ve had if I hadn’t had a son, Carmen. Carmen is currently in Senegal teaching – she has interesting observations on being a black feminist woman in a patriarchal society like Senegal that I would like to hear more of — not only is she an ambitious communicator – she speaks four or five languages – she’s travelled as much as she’s been able and is just wonderful in every way and very easily shares her thoughts with me whenever I need to pick a younger, more agile brain.
I wanted to know if she thought that black college students should study abroad as part of their whole career and personal development scheme or if it was just a luxury for the wealthiest white students and she of coursed confirmed my belief that black people be active players in globalization and that it’s a great thing to encourage our kids to achieve fluency in a second language, travel.
Very grateful to be part of a nurturing network of other black women. May it grow, though the politics and dynamics of black femininity still often leave me out in the cold…
Bisous….
Tags: Black Femininity

March 1st, 2009 at 4:39 pm
I understand your dilemma. I find that most of the time I’m unable to relate with other Black women unfortunately. It’s a shame that when we find ourselves together in mainly white company (this goes for Black males and females) we actually seem to go out of our way to ignore each other. I’ve always wondered at the reason for this. Do we not want to make whites uncomfortable by congregating? Or are we trying show them that we can stand on our own without the need to seek each other out? Whatever the reason, I don’t get it.
March 6th, 2009 at 1:04 pm
I think you, like every one else on this planet, whether they want to admit to it or not, (including myself) is suffering from the outsider blues. I think this is a blessing: it’s makes us empathetic to each other since it may most likely be the most common denominator of humanity!
hugs from shoot-em-up denmark,
the lab
March 6th, 2009 at 10:09 pm
I tell this to my friends. I don’t know how seriously they take this. We are just as affected by racism as whites. We have bought into certian ideas about ourselves as they have. We have grown up with the same influences as they have. We, unfortunately, have unconsciously set up the same constrictions as they have for us. We’ve got to shake it off.
March 8th, 2009 at 1:38 am
well i don’t feel this particular disconnect wid the sistren - not alla time sometimes it’s really weird but I feel the ability to have substantive conversation with nearly anyone - disconnect is always there, where ? - a fingertip’s distance away, though; except now, when i come into contact with ’speak-alive’ Barbie or one of our hip hop women who has resigned herself to role of a side o’ beef. Then, alienation is very strong almost like a drug or a strange charm from one of them Obeah women. I will say, however, that there is something poignant, almost haunting about your week of bus tides, rides and Odyssean stop-on-bys. The management of albums and other objects and sweet cakes of life legacy is vital. Been contemplating similar matters myself lately. I surely do hope you are getting a chance for the Sembene interlude and the courage à lire deeply like an imbibition of spiritual psychotropics. In your deepest and favorite among readings. You deserve this. i deserve that. spells. Your writing is like a spinning of silk. keep doing it. it’s got to be a comfort to find these chards of life fabrics patching your rooms with color.
March 9th, 2009 at 2:09 pm
Thank you sistah(s) for your keen insight….keep writing and replying…I am with Nashira i speak to all my ’sistren’ of every socioeconomic class…some I learn from and some I teach….Peace!
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