"Ordinary Brown Braided Woman": A Comment on For Colored Girls

“I had convinced myself colored girls had no right to sorrow and I lived and loved that way and kept sorrow on the curb, allegedly for you, but I know I did it for myself, I couldn’t stand it, I couldn’t stand being sorry and colored at the same time, it’s so redundant in this modern world. – Lady in Orange, recited by Loretta Devine

This is a film about the “ordinary, brown braided woman,” as recited amazingly by Gilda (Phylicia Rashad), invoking the Lady in Red (for those familiar with the book). It’s a film for and about women who don’t need any more apologies, who feel Jo (Janet Jackson) when she says, “I got sorry greetin me at my front door.” It's a film for anyone who has any interest and investment in the lives of ordinary, black women.

Tyler Perry, for the first time in his film career, has produced a work that begs the viewer to understand, relate to, and examine the lives of black women: our relationships with each other, with our mothers and sisters, with men. All of his other films purported to do this, but For Colored Girls is the first one that achieves this goal. Quite honestly the negative criticism from viewers astonishes me. And there's a LOT of it, much of which I read prior to seeing the film. After seeing the film, I can only assume that someone totally without connection to or empathy for black women could hate this film; or else someone who (perhaps understandably) simply can’t look past all of Perry’s previous debacles in order to see the gem that we have in his adaptation of Ntozake Shange's For Colored Girls Who Have Considered Suicide When the Rainbow is Enuf.

First off, all of the actresses were excellent and seemed to be fully invested in bringing their characters to life. The only weak links were Kerry Washington (Kelly) and Whoopi Goldberg (Alice), although the latter had some moments that were useful in helping illuminate the idiosyncrasies of other central characters. Kerry Washington, admittedly, wasn’t featured heavily in the film. But, nonetheless, her character evoked little sympathy from me. Perhaps it stems from my general issue with Kerry Washington as an actress: she's generally just kind of whiny in most roles. Whoopi’s character seemed underdeveloped and flat, but I think maybe she did as good as she could with the character.

The standouts? Kimberly Elise (Crystal), Thandie Newton (Tangie), Loretta Devine (Juanita), Anika Noni Rose (Yasmine), and Phylicia Rashad (Gilda). Sure, I just essentially named the whole cast. Quick summary of each character, respectively: utterly heartbreaking, deliciously complicated, hilarious fool in love, unfortunately innocent, and lovingly matriarchal.

Probably largely because of the strength of these actresses, Tyler Perry’s adaptation stands on its own, so much that I did not find myself comparing the film with the stories in Shange’s book. But he definitely stayed true to some of the stories and for that I applaud the man. On the level of writing, all was well done. The back alley abortion made me pause because, with the plethora of Planned Parenthood Clinics, I found it excessively stupid for one of the characters to seek out a back alley person to perform her abortion. However, I believe we were supposed to see this character as excessively naive, for even another character called her stupid when she found out about the back alley abortion. Additionally, the pace of the film picked up drastically and almost uncomfortably right after a pivotal moment between Crystal and Beau Willie (Michael Ealy), and the monologues suddenly started to come one after another, back to back. For a moment I was uncomfortable with the sudden rush, but that moment of discomfort went as quickly as it came because the women did such amazing jobs with their monologues.

The adaptation stands on its own also because Perry did a good job of adding some characters, significantly altering some, and creating nuances that separate the film from the original text. There’s the down low brother that one of the characters has to deal with, plus the cop played by Hill Harper. In addition, Gilda, a character I don't remember from the book, definitely adds a certain amount of cohesion that is necessary to hold the story together in film format. As far as nuances, I was struck by the subtle change in Yasmine's clothing style after she has her traumatic experience. After all his previous heavy-handed, overwrought films, I thought Perry would never grasp the importance of subtlety and nuance. Color me surprised.

While some male commentators have criticized the film, calling it black male-bashing because of its harsh portrayals of the male characters (indeed, during the staging of the play in the 70s, many male members of the audience walked out on several occasions), I think that any black man who sees this play and feels that Perry has personally affronted his black manhood needs to take a step back and realize that the film, like the book, is not about black manhood. Stop centering black masculinity in the discussion of a film that is primarily fixated on black women.

It's about black womanhood, which albeit necessarily invokes a discussion of black manhood. But, first and foremost, a black man misses the message(s) of the film if, during the entire film, he is focused on the men rather than the women. The monologue by the Lady in Orange, recited by Loretta Devine, encapsulates the central message of this film and of the book: we, black women, in our culture are perceived by others (and by ourselves often) as not entitled to sorrow, to emotional vulnerability, to weakness even. We are supposed to be strong and take all the shit handed to us, without complaint, without anger. Because, as my grandmother once said, there's no place for a weak, sad black woman in this world. Well, this film is about confronting and reversing that belief, in the minds of others and, most importantly, in the minds of black women. This film is not about pitying black women (as some commentators have alleged, associating its portrayals with Precious, etc.). It's about showing that black women can feel genuine sorrow and grief and pain and anger, and that that doesn't have to make us pathetic or angry bitches or whiny women looking for pity. It just makes us human.

Secondly, such male commentators fail to take into account the depth of the portrayal of the male characters in this film. Only one man, the rapist, struck me as irredeemably evil in this film. All the other males were clearly individuals with deep-seated issues that the film tried to highlight subtly. For instance, during the table scene between Crystal and Beau Willie, I think we are supposed to understand that Crystal feels sorry for him, that on some level we should feel sorry for him; this does not change the fact that we are supposed to want her to leave him because we know that he is poison to her and her family. People are complicated. In the world we live in, people who hurt us and do evil things often have complicated reasons for doing them, whether we know those reasons or not. While it’s important to safeguard ourselves from such people and take steps to empty our lives of such harmful people, in doing so we should always remember that such people are still human beings (even if such people seem to have forgotten their own humanity or the humanity of others). I think we are supposed to experience the same feeling during the last conversation between Jo and her husband, while not letting that sympathy excuse his behavior.

Needless to say, Jo and especially Crystal are also held accountable for the destruction that they allow these men to bring to their lives. Perry makes sure to reiterate the importance of all parties taking responsibility for the damage done.

So, I don’t think this film bashes black men. As a matter of fact, as I read some of this criticism of Perry's film, I was reminded of the type of one-sided, defensive criticism that The Color Purple (book and film) received from male commentators back in the 80s. According to my aunt, many black male commentators also talked crap about Waiting to Exhale back in the day, and that movie in no way bashed black men; there were numerous positive black male characters in that film. As such, I say these commentators need to cut out the petulant whining just because there's a Oscar buzzing film that centers black women.

For all the other commentators (everyone other than the black male commentators) who delivered negative criticism of the film, I don’t know what to say. Anyone who watches this film should know they are in for some gritty material. No one who knows anything about the book or who has watched the trailers should go into this film expecting a pretty story with a neat little ending. But that is what we’ve come to expect from Tyler Perry (pretty stories with neat little endings), so I understand why some critics went in with such expectations and left disappointed. But, alas, I’m proud to say that this is not just another Tyler Perry film. This is a different kind of Tyler Perry film. Yeah, there's still the Tyler Perry melodrama that can be found in all of his films. But this is one that begs its audience to think a little deeper, to be a little more patient, to listen and question. To think about the "ordinary brown braided woman," embodied by each of the characters. For once, Tyler Perry has produced a good film, a damn good one at that. And I'm pretty sure I never thought I'd use "Tyler Perry...film" and "damn good" in the same sentence.

Final sidenote: Thandie Newton was all kinds of crazy sexy in this film, and I’ve never found the woman attractive before. I’d watch it again, just for her.

For all of those who haven't seen the film, GO SEE IT! And for those who have seen the film, what are your thoughts?

Street Harassment and the Problem of WWF (Walking While Female)

I am writing this post in response to another blog post that I read. It was about street harassment, and it was a rather incendiary post, the language of which made me more than angry. While 99% of my experiences with street harassment have involved black men, I have no interest in using that fact to argue that black men are somehow more prone to this type of harassment, to perpetuate any racist stereotypes about black men. Unlike the woman in the other post, I think this is a problem that black men and women need to talk about, and wholesale accusing black men of being sexist assholes only prevents dialogue, and it obscures the problem. And this is a problem – a problem that has been talked about by feminists and women in general for ages. This is a problem that involves the way men are raised to view women and the way women are raised to accept certain behaviors from men. I'll say more on this in another post. Right now, I share my stories because I think the discussion needs to begin somewhere: why not with the personal? I share these stories because I think it’s time we talk about how oppressive it often is just to walk while female.

Some Spring Day in Downtown Springfield, Missouri - 2006

After locking my bike onto a rack, I cross the street. The street is typically empty around mid-day, and this day is no exception. I head to Mudhouse Coffee, ready to sit and do some hearty pleasure reading. Just when I make it to the other side, I hear, “Hey, hey, pssst!” I roll my eyes, thinking, “Oh, lord, leave me alone.” I turn around: this is probably my first mistake. “Yeah, come here,” says a black guy with a cap twisted to the left side, as he sits in the passenger side of his best friend’s car. Or maybe his brother’s car. Imagine how much I don’t care.

I offer a nod and resume walking. Then, I hear, “Come on, girl, how you gon do me like that?” Mudhouse is a block away, and I realize these idiots are going to creep beside me in their car until I make it to my destination.

This has happened a few times before. I was in high school in Little Rock the first time it happened, and I was out walking with my younger cousin who was visiting from Dallas. A car containing at least three guys pulled up, and two of them tried to holler at us as the driver crept at a slow pace. I tried to ignore them as they talked: “Yo, come on, I just want a number,” “You can’t give a nigga a number?” Before I knew it, my younger cousin turned to one of the boys, and yelled, “Boo nigga!” I almost fell out laughing. I almost felt bad for those boys. And either they were embarrassed or they thought she was crazy because they promptly drove off. I think I heard one of them mutter, “bitch” right before they turned the corner.

I’m not thinking about that high school moment as these dudes harass me in Springfield. I am thinking about how annoyed I am. I look at the boy who’s talking to me, and all I can think is, “Negro please.” Just imagine Pam from Martin, the TV show, talking to Cole. That’s the voice I have in my head.

Finally, I turn to the boy – he certainly wasn’t acting like a man, so I dare not call him one – and I say in as civilized a fashion as I can manage, “I am not interested, okay. So, you go on” – I actually wave my hand, as if to shew them away – “and have a good day.” I didn’t smile. I didn’t mean it nicely. I meant, “Go on, now, before I get really real with you.”

He mumbles something along the lines of, “For real? Not even a number?” I don’t reply. Before they drive off, he offers, “You have a good day too, then, Miss Lady.” And that is it. I never saw the boy again.

Some Summer Day in Downtown Iowa City, Iowa - 2009

“Hey, hey, hey, slow down Miss Lady,” says an older black guy, in his forties probably. He has a chipped front tooth. I wonder why they are always calling me “Miss Lady.” I guess it could be “bitch,” so maybe I should be thankful.

I am crossing the street in one direction and he is crossing in the other direction, wearing baggy gray sweatpants and an ill-fitting white t-shirt. This man actually switches directions in order to walk alongside me. It’s the same man who once sat right next to me on the bus and proceeded to pester me with stupid come-ons for all of fifteen minutes, while I proceeded to make him feel like an idiot, again in the most civilized manner I could manage. “You know I’m your number one fan,” he told me the first time he talked to me on the bus. When I told him that was the stupidest thing I’d ever heard, that hopefully he was joking, he then explained that he’d seen me in the grocery store once and spoke to me, that surely I should remember him. I shook my head: “Nope. I remember faces. And yours ain’t one I’ve seen.” Then, I turned away to read my book. He continued yappering, and I essentially ignored him until he shut up.

This time, on the street, I waved him away, just as I’d done that boy in the passenger seat several years earlier. And, just like that boy, he quickly got the hint, said, “All right. I see how it’s gon be,” and turned in the other direction. He doesn’t bother speaking to me anymore when he sees me.

A Cold Day in May in Chicago - 2009

I am by myself on the University of Chicago campus, walking and taking in some of the neighborhood. The area starts to look a little sketchy and I take a turn onto a more pleasant looking street, where I find a coffeehouse. I get a soy vanilla latte and leave the coffeehouse. As I’m making my way back to the hostel on campus, this young black dude crosses the street to talk to me. He’s wearing a baseball cap, turned to the back and slightly sagging pants. He asks me my name and I refuse to tell him, but he just goes on, nicely: “Oh, I ain’t trying to be all up in your face or nothing.” I glance at him, trying to see what he’s about.

“I just wanted to catch up to you so I can tell you your style is hot. I like it,” he says. "I was telling my boy over there," he pointed back toward the corner where another similarly clad black man was standing, "and he was like, 'You oughta go tell her'."

My fro is standing high and I am wearing a light blue wool peacoat and wide flare (bell-bottom) pants. I probably look like I stepped out of a Shaft film. It’s late May and I am still wearing a peacoat. Thank you, Chicago, for your never-ending winters. “That's nice. Thanks,” I say to the man. He smiles, and as he stops to cross back to the other side of the street, he tells me, “Stay beautiful, sista.” I nod. I probably even smile a little as I say, “You have a good day, now!”

That last scene captures the majority of encounters I’ve had on the street with random black men. I wouldn't call what happened in that scene harassment. Maybe I didn't want to be bothered, but the man was respectful and kind. I have no problem nodding, smiling, or holding casual conversation with a stranger - so long as I'm not in a hurry. In fact, I like interacting with strangers. Makes me feel all connected to the world and stuff. But many women might consider what happened in that scene a form of harassment - a benign sort of harassment. While I wouldn't agree, I guess I can see where such women would be coming from. If you don't want to be bothered, you don't want to be bothered, and people should respect your right not to be bothered.

Like many women, though, I’ve had my share of run-ins with jerks, encounters more violent than the ones I’ve shared above:

• I spent second semester of my junior year in London. There, a dreadlocked light-skinned guy actually grabbed my arm in the middle of Piccadilly Circus one night and tried to make me drink from his bottle of Hypnotic. I shit you not. Although pepper spray was then illegal to carry in London - I only found that out once I left London - I was seconds away from spraying him. I must have hurled every curse word and hateful thing I could think of at that guy, as my friend dragged me away from him. I'm pretty sure I tried to spit on him.

• The first time I ever visited Chicago – junior year of college – I went with two white male friends, and when we ended up on a dodgy street at night, a couple of black guys tried to holler at me, yelling all kinds of tacky shit at me, like, “Damn, you fine as hell,” or “Damn, you a little skinny, but I like skinny women.” When I rejected them, they launched all kinds of obscenities at me, obscenities that mainly pertained to my being with two white dudes: “sell out bitch,” “cheap hoe,” etc. I ignored them and kept walking. Because it was my first time in a big city, it didn’t even cross my mind that their verbal violence could turn physical. Luckily, it didn’t. That same night, I was on the train with my two friends, when two black boys tried to videotape me and some random white girl on their videophone. They said some nasty, sleazy shit to me and that girl. The white girl looked utterly terrified. I, however, having already been thoroughly pissed off by the earlier encounter, turned and told the boys that I would fuck them up if they didn’t take that camera off of me at that moment. I know they could have hurt me, but I didn’t care. I’ve never been one to walk through the world fearful of men, letting them talk to me any kind of way. (It should be noted that my two friends didn't say a damn thing. They actually shushed me when I started going off on the two guys. I'm often amazed at how often men are complicit in the sexist-oppressive behavior of other men. Or else just too intimidated to oppose them.)

My experience with this problem – street harassment – has admittedly been more fortunate than others. Guys usually smile at me or else speak respectfully to me. And when I refuse to speak to them, they usually turn and find some other poor girl to antagonize. Maybe I have some sort of look about me that says, “I really ain’t got time for bullshit.” I don’t know. What I do know is that some of my experiences have been far from pleasant, and it pains me to realize that I have been lucky, that some girls receive far worse.

Last Month in BugLand - September 2010

It's a BUG world!

Just in case you forgot to stop by JuneBug Talk (JBT) in September, do yourself a favor and catch up. Kidding! Here's what you missed.

Miss Berneta
BernetaBug opened up with a very personal post On Being Black, Female, and Queer. Want more from your fave intellectual, B? Read more of her blogs over at Nickel for a Thought.

Mz Kewe
She spoke her piece on celebrity homewreckers and asked whose the real one to blame in The Problem I Have with Homewreckers. To hear more from the "The Queen of All Controversy," tune in to Check2Check Radio online by clicking here or follow @SweetKewe on Twitter.

Ms MaShari
Remixing a track by Kanye the way she only can, Ms MaShari blogged on pop culture personal finance and the importance of giving back in Power. Hit up your girl via email with questions or at Young Women and Supporters of Financial Literacy on Facebook.

Miss Qui Vive
Continuing her series, Miss Qui explored the causes in Back to the Future: The Effects. Are you a reader? So is QV! Join QV's virtual book society, The Burgeoning Literate.

Don't forget our roundtable discussion titled,

"MEN vs. WOMEN: Who has the Advantage in Dating?"

featuring our NEW GuestBug justJames.

GuestBugs
Brilliance returned with REAL Talk in The Best Father Around, and Thoughts of a Randomista told us her take on protection in Babygirl, You Gone Wrap It or Not?!?.

Interested in guest blogging? Click here, read Miss Berneta's post, and send us an email at bugme.junebugtalk@gmail.com.

PartnerBugs
JBT stepped outside of the box and partnered with No4Corners and Thoughts of a Randomista. Be sure to checkout our PartnerBugs and more of our work at:

...No4Corners (N4C)

Miss Qui Vive lended her opinion on dating or the lack there of over at N4C's with What Do the Lonely Do. In Billy Jean: Is Michael the Baby Daddy?, Ms MaShari talked about Mocienne Pettit Jackson, MJ's alleged lovechild. As for Miss B, she asked a good question - "Can you be Too Picky in Love?" Leave your comments and let us know what you think. Lastly, Mz Kewe got more stuff of her chest in the Top 10 Total BS! Propaganda in the Media, Society, and World in General....

....Thoughts of a Randomista (T.O.A.R.)

'Shari dished her random thoughts on money and hot totties in Urban Finance, and B shared her very own tales of money woes in Guilty Pleasures.

Thanks for reading, and a special thanks to our GuestBugs and Partners!
Stay tuned for more JuneBug Talk.


Coming in October...

• More from JuneBugs' Miss Berneta, Mz Kewe, Ms MaShari, and Miss Qui Vive on any and ERRthing like dating & relationships, politics, culture, etc.
• Posts from GuestBugs' Brilliance, T.O.A.R., justJames, and many more.

Support JuneBug Talk. Like us on Facebook at http://facebook.com/likejunebugtalk!

MEN vs. WOMEN: Who really has the advantage in dating?

We can all agree that interactions between men and women undeniably consist of a Venus vs. Mars dynamic, particularly when it comes to dating. Sometimes it seems like a constant battle with one another, trying to understand the different mindsets, communication styles, responsibilities—who plays what role in a relationship, etc etc. Considering all these different elements that take place when we deal with one another, who do you believe understands the situation more clearly and has the upper hand when it comes to dating? Men or women?

Ms Qui Vive

What kind of question is that?? WOMEN GET it better in general because we’re smarter!

Ok, before the rains come tumbling down, I’m kidding!

I actually think most men and women have equal understanding, just different reactions, and maybe we can construe those reactions as one person having a better grasp or upper hand over the other. Women tend to be more vocal, while many men think more than they talk. So, when a woman deals with an issue she may deal with it by talking it out, venting, and creating room for discussion – does that make her smarter than the man who may be quietly thinking things through? Not for me…

I know an equal number of dumb-dumbs in both gender categories!

Ms Mashari

Ms Qui, I have to agree and disagree with you. Women are more talkative and express their emotions where men typically aren't as vocal, but that makes neither sex better than the other at dating in my opinion. What I do think sets women apart from men is our supernatural abilities. LOL! That's right, I said supernatural. I'm just saying if you think about, we have a keen sense of awareness and intuition, so we can use our powers to navigate the dating landscape. For instance, we know if ole boy ain't really feeling us and he's just taking us out to get into the panties, we know when "RayRay' is catching feelings, and we know when the Mister calls himself stepping out on us too. The cards are always on our table, ladies!

Ms Qui Vive

Ms MaShari – you sho’ right! A woman’s intuition is one of her best assets!

Miss Berneta

I'm going to second Ms. Qui Vive on this one. I do think most men and women understand each other about equally. And I also don't think it's as simple as Venus and Mars. Men and women have a little of both, to be honest. That division just doesn't capture the complexity of men and women.

A friend and I were recently discussing how difficult it is to understand men, and we decided that the problem is simple: we all want love, but maybe we just have very different conceptions of what love is or should look like.

For instance, I am going to generalize from myself and assume that many women have a very straightforward view of the type of romantic love we want: we want to find a partner (probably a life partner) who is a companion and a friend, someone whom we can nurture and who will nurture us, a partner who will forgo other sexual partners, just as we ourselves will forgo other sexual partners.

It would be easy to say that men want that too. But I sometimes find it difficult to determine what type of love many men want. Does the average man also share this average, straightforward view of romantic love that I (hesitantly) suggest many women want? Does he also want a partner (a life partner), who is a companion and a friend, someone whom he can nurture and who will nurture him, who will forgo other sexual partners, someone for whom he himself will forgo other sexual partners? Or is it something different that they want? A lot of men don't seem very interested in "life partners" to me, for instance, and when they do end up with one, some of them seem a tad resentful about having to (or being pressured to) abandon their options. But maybe I'm just generalizing too much about men?

I think in the end men and women both understand each other equally; maybe we all know how to make it work or maybe none of us know how to make it work. And so we struggle with and against each other. I’m starting to think John Legend gets it right: maybe everybody knows but nobody really knows.

Ms Mashari

Miss B, I like what you said here, and I wanna go a bit further. My boo, Hill Harper, wrote about this in his book called The Conversation. Men are conditioned from childhood to "Man up" and told not to cry. In addition, men are encouraged to play the field and "shop around" like the ol' school tune. However, women are sold some fantasy and encouraged to save themselves for Prince Charming. Only a handful of us have met him according to the statistics. After years of being told one thing, women are pressuring men to settle down and become their dreams of this great man who is loving, educated, sensitive (not too sensitive), faithful, and the list goes on. So I guess the score is Women 1 for intuition and Men 0, but maybe it’s unfair to have this dialogue without the input of our men.

Miss Berneta

I definitely agree, Ms. Mashari. This type of romantic love that women idealize (that I outlined) is definitely programmed into us. (I tried to read that Hill Harper book, but couldn't get through it.) I think we, men and women, really need to own up to and examine the images and cultural ideas from our childhood (from television, from books) and how they have influenced our perceptions of love and dating. A lot of us want to make "men are just like this" and "women are just like this" arguments, which only hide the fact that we are all sent the same images about love, messages that push us to behave according to certain roles. And our firm adherence to those gender roles only cause problems between us. (This is also why I tend to be more interested in men who have a feminist mindset, men who have thus begun to examine the notions they've received about masculinity since childhood; random side note. :D).

justJames

This is a big question and not easily answered. In today's world of dating, it is a lot more philosophical so to speak. A lot more dynamic. During our parents and grandparents era, dating was static or black and white. The guy inititated the contact on most levels. From the, "Hi my name is...", to the, "would you marry me?" From that perspective the advantage could have been perceived to be in favor of the woman since everything depended on her response to the man's inquiry.

But today's dating world is much more as I said above, philosophical. People are more learned than in the past. Both men and women work, there's the proliferation of many dating sites, so on ans so on. So now both men and women have more "options". No longer do people just date friends from school or from the neighborhood, but many have long distance relationships, some crossing state lines.

The question is who has the advantage given all the different variables (i.e. Communication, mindset, etc.)? On a large scale I believe women have the advantage when it comes to dating... If! If I am looking at it from a mental perspective, women have proven throughout history that they are just better built communicators.

From a physical perspective, men have the advantage very simply because of sheer numbers. Women outnumber men so much so, that even the most unsightly guy thinks he's "somebody". I traveled to Washington D.C. and witnessed a gentleman dressed in skinny jeans, loafers no socks, a leather vest, and receding hairline. The ratio of women to men in D.C. is greater than 5to1. In a more balanced society, this gentleman who wasn't much of a looker wouldn't have left happy hour with "Beyonce." Just my opinion. Because of this these types of ratios, I believe men on some levels have become more selective in picking a dating partner. I believe because of this it has become more competitive for women, which has forced them to become the aggressor. So, now as a guy it has become normal for a woman to initiate a lot of the dating "contact".

On the surface it all seems advantageous but that shift in dating stems from a deeper problem in society that can be discussed later. ..and I have not even touched on bi-sexuality or anything else. Should I keep going LoL..!

Ms Qui Vive

Now, that's what I'm talkin' 'bout James! Maybe men DO think...JK, JK!

So, women have the upper hand in communicating and men have the advantage in numbers...

Ms Mashari

I say, "What!" Um, I don't even have a rebuttal. Hand clap, two snaps, and a pat on the back, justJames!

Miss Berneta

James, yes, let’s not even start on bisexuality. I could go on forever about my own difficulty, as a bisexual, dating and having to have two different dating styles: one for men and one for women. Ya'll don't even want me to get started.

But I'm curious about the "deeper problem " that you think the shift stems from. Because I think you're on to something with that. This shift is an issue of numbers, but as you suggest, it's also an issue at once much more complicated than just numbers. There is something occurring in our culture in terms of human interaction. Texting, internet communication, and unprecedented numbers of college-educated people...all those factors have everything to do with this shift—we probably have one of the highest populations of college-educated people of any country. And we’re seeing the affects of these factors (good and bad) on the world of dating. In fact, I think the change is most obvious in the world of dating and relationships. Too bad my thoughts are too scattered at the moment, but maybe this could make for an interesting follow-up post. But it was nice to get a male perspective.

justJames

This was a great question, so kudos to who ever thought of it. There are many layers within the question itself depending on how deep a person is willing to "dig" so to speak.

Who do you think has the upper hand?

On Being Black, Female, and Queer

When you first came out in college, you used to wonder what was harder: being black, being a woman, or being queer (specifically, bisexual). You quickly decided that your answer to that question would depend on the day someone asked you. Sometime later you decided that the question was useless and a waste of time. In your mid-twenties now, you’ve long realized that what’s hardest is being all three of those things.

You’re writing this post not to whine or call for pity but rather to add another voice to queer women of color, an identity and large group of individuals often unheard and overlooked in American culture.

You can’t say that it’s harder being black, or that it’s harder being a woman, etc. because, in many ways, it’s all situational. For instance, in a mostly white environment, your identity as a black person is on display and, subsequently, causes you significantly more stress, making you vulnerable to everything from overt racism to covert racism. Living in Iowa City, dealing with a mostly intellectual and college-educated crowd of northern white folks, you’ve encountered much less overt racism, although the sometimes constant barrage of covert racism makes you prefer the overt sort. It’s made you realize that perhaps, as Dave Chappelle said, you prefer racism that’s out and in the open, just so you know where you stand with someone upfront.

Your identity as a female obviously finds itself on display when you’re surrounded by men, when you walk alone at night and feel that oppressive fear for your safety. Yet you’re rarely very wary of walking alone at night if the area is well-lit, as you’ve always felt that you can probably handle yourself pretty well. You consciously carry yourself with an obvious sort of seriousness and strength, so as to prevent yourself from being viewed as an easy target. And that strategy has worked so far. During the few run-ins you’ve had, however, you’ve learned that going completely apeshit – all 13 curse words – usually works well, as far as getting aggressive men off your back.

For instance, one night you were out and about, heading toward your car, and some random guy came up to you and started trying to be aggressive. You happened to be wearing slightly provocative clothes that night, and this guy decided that meant it was okay for him to get all up in your personal space. He actively followed you for a block, until you turned around, faced him and released an abundance of swear words on him, beginning with, “What the fu@k is your fu@king problem?” He promptly mumbled some half-assed apology and turned and walked away, after you concluded by telling him you would fu@k him up if he didn’t walk away. Whether or not you could’ve effectively fu@ked him up is beside the point: the point is you would have certainly tried, meaning, this man would have been in for a serious fight. He understood that, and moved on.

On the other hand, your identity as a queer person becomes a problem usually whenever you find myself surrounded by conservative black people — or conservative people of any race. Not because black people are more homophobic. But because you’ve simply had more run-ins with overt homophobia from black people than from anyone else. However, typically, you surround yourself with open-minded folks, black or whatever color, so you experience very little homophobia, overt or covert, in your daily life. Iowa City is apparently the third gayest city in the country, so your experience with homophobia here is significantly lessened, so much that you forget that Iowa City is kind of an anomaly in that way. You only receive that jolt back to the reality of life outside Iowa City when you see threads on Facebook where people unleash all their homophobia unabashedly, or when you hear yet another story about your sister (who is married to a woman) and her trials with homophobic co-workers constantly plotting to make her life miserable on account of her sexuality. She is not one to hide her sexuality, and you don’t blame her. But it makes her an easy target to homophobic folks around her in good ole Little Rock, Arkansas.

While you don’t hide your sexuality, you don’t necessarily display it either. Furthermore, you tend to operate from the belief that your sexuality is your business and that you don’t owe anyone disclosure (besides a potentially intimate partner). Like your sister, you look ostensibly heterosexual to most folks. But unlike your sister you don’t have a wife, and, as such, you have the ability to pass for hetero, whether you choose to do so or not. Because you’re bisexual, you’re often dating men so no one assumes that you’re anything other than heterosexual. As far as dealing with homophobia, your life is significantly easier because of all these factors. However, you’ve had to deal with biphobia a lot from both heterosexuals and homosexuals. Meaning, you’ve had to deal with all those silly and oppressive commonly-accepted labels that people attach to bisexuals: confused, slutty, indecisive, greedy, potentially diseased. In other words, you’ve had to deal with the intense alienation and sense of inferiority that comes with being viewed that way by so many people. To be bisexual is often to feel that you have no real allies.

Each of these separate experiences (as black person, as woman, as queer) on their own only slightly capture the wholesale alienation that your identity as a black female queer (be it bisexual or lesbian) entails. To have all these separate experiences of alienation is to experience an alienation so severe that it is practically incomparable. The invisibility is unimaginably intense. You’re sure any queer woman of color (be she black, Latino, Asian, or whatever) will echo your sentiments on this point. It goes like this:

Many people of the dominant group inadvertently or intentionally dismiss your humanity on account of your color, so you try to align yourself with people who look like you, black folks in your case. But you find your humanity questioned by so many of them, on account of your sexuality – many of them dismissing queerness as a “white thing” and, thus, in their rhetoric inadvertently erasing the existence of queer people of color. So you try to align yourself with queer culture so as to find some respect and community, but you quickly realize that the queer community is most often not only white-oriented but male-oriented, not to mention anti-bisexual in large part. Nonetheless, you – black, female, and queer – find your identity dismissed at every level.

In summary, you find yourself made invisible – within white culture, within your ethnic culture, within gay culture. The luckiest of you manage to live in cities where there are thriving lesbian and gay communities of color. While you are not that lucky, you are fortunate enough to have been able to find a group of open-minded friends, most of them black and straight, who are not tolerant – you hate that word, as it implies that one is simply “putting up with” someone they believe, at heart, to be inferior on some level, as such still viewing that person as an “other.” Instead, these friends are human beings who in no way “other” you because of your sexuality. You and your friends are all simply people trying to keep it moving in this crazy world.

****

I’m writing this post because, as I intend to embark on a legal career and devote my energies to improving the conditions of African-American life, I have been thinking about how troubling it is to ally myself with people, half of whom hate or look down on me because of my sexuality. Few things hurt my heart more than being literally or rhetorically spat upon by people who look like me, simply because my sexuality happens to differ from theirs, because of something I simply can’t (and wouldn’t) change. I can deal with receiving hate (or belittling pity) from white people, but it truly hurts to receive hate from people I consider my own, from people with whom I share such a unique historical legacy. But, at the end of the day, none of that hate deters me from wanting to dedicate my life to African-Americans (be they queer or straight) in our constant struggle for respect and freedom in this country. Despite receiving all that hate, my love for my people never fades. And, hopefully, it never will.

Pictured above: Queen Latifah and long-time girlfriend Jeanette Jenkins; Wanda Sykes and her wife.

Who is this Weird Chick? Why We Need More Weirdos in Black Music

Weirdo: an odd, eccentric, or unconventional person.

Some time ago, I was over at Clutch Magazine, watching Janelle Monae’s latest video, a remix of “Tightrope,” featuring Lupe Fiasco and B.O.B. While I’m not sure that I liked the collaboration, I found myself interested in some of the readers’ comments about Janelle Monae. I decided to check other posts and reader’s comments about her on the site. One post, a summary of an interview done with Rolling Stone Magazine, discussed her response to lesbian rumors. Her evasion of the questions is pretty hilarious and actually rather clever. But I was really taken by one of the reader’s comments:

Fox says:

July 10, 2010 at 11:40 am

LOL. I’m not gonna lie when I first saw her I said, “Who is this weird chick?” But she is doing her thing and obviously doesn’t care about what people are saying. She doesn’t owe anyone any explanation about her personal life because they don’t have to live it. I respect that! I love her answers.

I’m not remotely concerned about her private life, although I would be pretty ecstatic to find out that she is a lesbian or bisexual. However, I’m mostly interested in one aspect of Fox’s comments: “Who is this weird chick?” Yes, she is weird. It hit me: actually, we need more weird chicks and dudes on the black music scene. Indeed, one of our weirdest musicians, Michael Jackson, is no longer with us. I’m not saying we need them to be THAT weird, no offense to MJ. Maybe Prince weird…at least he’s still alive and didn’t f-up his face in the name of trying to be something that he’s not.

So, it got me to thinking. I LOVE the weird black artists who manage to rise from the underground. Janelle Monae. The Noisette’s lead singer Shinga Shoniwa. TV on the Radio. Bloc Party's lead singer Kele Okereke. Kanye West (check out the recent photo leak of him with a faux-hawk/mullet licking the faded head of his girlfriend. Pretty weird.). Santogold. Ebony Bones. Bilal. Andre 3000. Cody Chestnutt. Gnarls Barkley. Erykah Badu (Queen of Weird). Grace Jones (High Priestess of Weird). Prince (His Majesty Weirdness).

We need more black music weirdos! Why? They are fun. They liven things up and keep us on our toes. But, more importantly, they help break up some of the monotonous conformity on the black music scene. They challenge the world of black music and the world of music in general to keep up and keep evolving. As much as I can’t stand Lil Wayne, I even appreciate him (only slightly) for his strange persona, especially in light of a recent rock video, “Knockout,” that he did with Nicki Minaj.

Black music weirdos are most important, perhaps, because they are a refreshing change for overlooked and underappreciated black weirdos everywhere. For all those black girls who don’t subscribe to certain general beauty standards, who listen to everything from David Bowie and Franz Ferdinand to Curtis Mayfield and Jill Scott, who you can catch everywhere from “beauty to thrift stores” (to quote Common). For those girls…for girls like me, folks like Janelle Monae and Andre 3000 and Prince allow us to see ourselves reflected in pop culture. For all those black boys rocking faux hawks and skinny jeans, rocking out to everything from The Doors and TV on the Radio to Lupe Fiasco and Lenny Williams, who you can catch everywhere from the hood to the suburbs. For those black boys, artists like Cee-lo of Gnarls Barkley and Cody Chestnut allow them a point of entry, someone they can identify with.

So bring on the weirdos! They are steadily filling up my Ipod, and I can’t wait for more. Who are some of your favorite weird black musicians, old and new?

Be sure to check out some of the songs in the playlist below. Click to play any song, and enjoy!

Call for Submissions and Questions!

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In addition, we will be starting an advice column. Do you have any burning questions about love or relationships? Maybe you want some financial advice. Whatever the question, we are curious and look forward to offering some useful advice and opinions. Slip us your question at bugme.junebugtalk@gmail.com. You never know how many readers may have the same question, and how many folks you might help by bugging us with your question.

If you have any questions about guest posts or the advice column, shoot us an email. Until later…stay tuned for more exciting talk and buzz here at JuneBug Talk!

President Obama and the “Cool Black Man” Persona: Roundtable

From President Obama's college years

Ever since the primaries, many black people accused him of not being black enough, but they were quickly silenced (consider this season’s episode of The Boondocks that focused on the black community’s silencing of black critics of President Obama). Now, after the President’s cool response to the oil spill, we even have some white liberals (i.e. Bill Maher) accusing him of not being black enough. These accusations have one thing in common: they stem from a disapproval of Obama’s coolness, or, in other words, his refusal or inability to display anger. Do we want him to get heated, for a change? What's the problem with his cool approach? Why is this an important topic of discussion in terms of race

Ms MaShari

I think the Black male is often associated with violence, and it's difficult for people to see a mixed race President (named Barack Hussein Obama) who doesn't live up to that age-old stereotype. I think one of our readers mentioned in an earlier post how people like to categorize one another. Clearly, people don't know what to make of him 'cause he is cool. Just think about that strut across the lawn at Pennsylvania Ave. and the calmness he exuded during the debates that led him to the presidency. He's a BAD man! But no matter what he does, it won't be right in the eyes of everyone else. Long after he's out of office, people will still be talking. Guess what, they aren't the President either! So why should it matter? To me, Obama is doing just what he should be doing, which is all he absolutely can do in his power.

Miss Berneta

You're right, Ms. Mashari, he IS a "BAD" man (shut yo mouth!). But, see the problem is, he's not bad in that Shaft/Gangsta/Samuel L. Jackson sort of way. Obama ain't the kind of negro that's going to snap all of a sudden on the Republicans and be like, "Look, muthaf@%kers, I don said it once and I ain't saying it twice! Ya'll gon pass this health care bill!" I admit, even I am guilty of wanting Obama to get angry once in a while, to display some emotion, to be a little less cerebral and a little more emotional. (It's not because I have no other way of understanding black masculinity, however. It's more so because I understand people in general better when I see them display emotion. People who are always always level-headed, no matter what the crisis, simply vex me; I feel like I can never really understand such a person).

White America (and maybe even black America) is used to the angry black man image I just mentioned: white Americans both love it and fear it. Unfortunately, the worse thing President Obama could do politically is get angry, because it's a guarantee he'll lose some much-needed support from whites (while he might regain some steadily waning support from brown and black folks in this country). It's a guarantee that you'll have white America shouting several things:

1) "That's right! That's right!," white liberals will shout, and from then on expect the angry Obama to make appearances occasionally, especially in favor of their causes.

2) "That's just incredibly unprofessional and not a good look for our country," white moderates will groan, from then on expecting the man to never ever exhibit the slightest emotion, for even the slightest emotion will hark back to angry Obama,

3) "See, I told you they are all angry and violent," white conservatives will say, and proceed to search for violent past behavior from Obama's youth in order to further invalidate his humanity and turn him into a stereotype of black masculinity

Sigh. The man is in a precarious situation. If I were him, I would choose my moments carefully, but I would not choose to remain always completely calm so as to avoid the stereotype. Ultimately, being stereotyped as a black person is unavoidable. Any wise person knows that, and I would hope that he knows it. Look, his wife merely said she was for once proud to be an American, when he won the primaries, and they painted her as a fist-in-the-air-afro-wearing black panther sort (I wish) and Michelle couldn't be further from that.

Ms Qui Vive

Is it just me...or aren't there more important things at the White House (and in the world) to worry about?? Clinton was known for his charm, Bush was known for his, well...lack of intelligence, and now, Obama is known for being “cool.” What's the big deal? I happen to appreciate and have mad respect for anyone who can remain tactful under extreme scrutiny and pressure...

Although Obama DOES seem to keep his cool, I wouldn't expect anything otherwise from a person with his leadership responsibility of ANY race...

Though it WOULD be funny to me if he gave the masses what they were looking for one day!

Ms MaShari

LOL, Miss Berneta! I remind you that Obama's campaign slogan was a "Change We Can Believe In," and that change meant a new attitude, a new swag, and a "NEW BAD." Think about it, he's mixed race and was raised by his Caucasian mother, having been exposed to a multitude of cultures and raised in Hawaii and overseas until middle school or so, and people really want to see Obama go Black Dynamite a time or two. Yeah, right! It seems like some of us signed up for the change, but weren't quite ready for just what the change meant. A cool dude that just happens to be brown skinned, wears his trousers a little high but looks just dandy doing it, and remains calm under a world of pressure. Miss Qui, like you, I'm enamored by the man we call Mr. President and I applaud him for what LL Cool J calls "doin' it well.”

Mz. Kewe

I don’t know about the you guys... but I am kinda tired of these age old stereotypes just because he’s a black man... now you’re telling me that there are white liberals saying "he’s not black enough." That just sounds way too ignorant to me. What is Not Black Enough?? Exactly? How do you act "black" ( or as i use to ask as a child... " how so you act a color?")? Just because he’s African American does that mean he has to be Angry, short tempered? Etc, etc? To me, this really just boils down to ignorance. Personally, I like a strong yet cool demeanor, which is how Obama comes across to me. There are other ways of showing strength, and it’s not always blowing up and showing emotion all the time... actually... he probably displays more strength in NOT letting his emotions get the best of him.

Miss Berneta

I agree with your sentiments entirely, Mz. Kewe. Although, I have to say that whenever I hear a black person indignantly ask, "How do you act black?" in debates like this, I automatically shake my head. Lol. No matter how bourgie we all are, we ALL know what it means when someone says you're acting black (and, likewise, that you're acting white). Let's not even pretend.

But like you said, Mz. Kewe, there are other ways of showing strength. Personally, I think all the hubbub about his temperament distracts us from some of the real work (for better or for worse) that President Obama is doing and also neglecting to do.

Positive stuff he's done: health care bill (albeit it's a watered-down version); executive order to protect queer individuals’ right to see their partner when/if his/her partner is hospitalized; loan forgiveness for individuals who have dedicated 10 years to public service; extending unemployment benefits.

Negatives (stuff he's done or failed to do): hasn't repealed the anti-prostitution clause in our HIV/AIDS funding program (which basically prevents any organization that supports sex workers from received funding from the program); the huge corporate bailouts; merit-based teacher's program; took abortion coverage out of the health care bill; he put Elena Kagan, yet another Harvard (inexperienced) law professor, one of his buddies, on the Supreme court (now, all but one of the justices is a Harvard or Yale graduate).

I could go on and on with this second list for sure. But all this…this is the stuff we should be talking about. And the whole focus on Obama's temperament is a mere distraction that's working in his and his administration's favor and not in our, the people's, favor.

Mz. Kewe

Do we really all know the "what acting black or white” is? Even if so...does it not change the ignorance, given the fact that defining what is black and what is white varies from each individual to the next? For me, I feel that characteristics of an African American male would be Pride, egotistical, protector and strong. I, personally, never associated angry or temperamental behavior exclusively to a black man. (Actually, I hear it more associated with black women.) Now these are my personal opinions about their characteristics, not to say I'm right or not to say I'm wrong, but this goes to show that not everyone has the same idea of how a person of a certain race should act. If I were to judge a black man and say that he's "not acting black" according to MY belief of what a black man should act like, that's total ignorance because his beliefs may differ from mine. What do these white liberal believe characteristic of a black man should be? Do all of them agree? I'm sure we could find some individuals out there that would say " oh yea... he's definitely a “n*66a" just because he does have a cool calm demeanor. I heard an interview he did for a radio show in NY while he was campaigning and one of the hosts asked jokingly " so Mr Obama, do you still have sex with your wife?" And Obama replied jokingly as well: " as for my wife, that's none of your business" and all the hosts of the show laughed and said "he IS a BLACK MAN Y'ALL!" So, according to their definition... Obama meets it. I know I'm rambling and probably over stressing my point (as usual) but the fact is everyone’s definition of how a certain race of people acts varies from person to person, so in essence saying someone isn't acting the way they should according to what race they are IS ignorance.

What is your take on this topic?

21st Century Dating and the Issue of Label Phobia

You and So-and-So have hung out numerous times, on walks, at movies, at dinners in swanky and not-so-swanky restaurants (and So-and-So always insists on paying). After a few “dates” you finally give in, say, “Well, hell,” and you have sex. It has been a couple of months, and there have been several repeated sexual occurrences. While you may or may not be completely interested in So-and-So, you’re also not the casual sex kind of person. You are probably at least a little interested in seeing where it can go. No one has mentioned the big “R” (whisper: relationship). Although, you did ask one time about a month or so into it all, “So, hey, what is this about?” So-and-So responded in some roundabout, inarticulately evasive manner, of which all you remember hearing is, “I like you a lot. I like being with you.” Now, you are left wondering, “What the f*#@?”

I call this scenario, “An Encounter with 21^st Century Label Phobia.” The notion of label phobia is pretty self-explanatory: it describes the intense fear of or aversion to labels, specifically labeling as it relates to the world of romance. (This is related to but shouldn't be confused with what is popularly called "commitment phobia," which describes a general fear of commitment. In label phobia, fear is directed toward labels such as "relationship," "dating," etc. While these labels implicate some level of commitment, I think label phobia stems from not only a fear of commitment but from a general fear of categorization, a mindset that is very characteristic of postmodern 21st century culture.) One could suggest that So-and-So is not label phobic at all but simply a slow mover, trying to take his/her time. Or maybe just your typical jerk. Both of those might be true. But let’s just assume I am right, for a moment. How does this label phobia affect our dating lives? Is this new attitude an improvement or a significant problem in our dating lives?

To the last question, I’d say it’s a little of both, and to the first question I’d say it’s doing a real number on our self-esteem (and I don't mean that in a good way).

In my own life, I’ve found that labels are inescapable, sometimes burdensome and sometimes useful or even empowering. For instance, I can’t escape the labels of African-American (or black), woman, bisexual, Southerner. There’s almost no point in trying to ignore them, in trying to exist as just a human being. I don’t have that luxury of trying to go through the world as just a human being when the rest of world will always see me as black and female for sure and treat me accordingly. As such, I’ve learned to embrace such labels and find power in them.

Avoiding labels in the world of romance is just as futile and impossible as avoiding them in other aspects of our lives. No matter how much So-and-So doesn’t like labeling his/her love life, he/she will eventually come into conflict with a lover who doesn’t share his/her disdain for labels. The reality is that human beings love labels; we need them, in the world of romance and elsewhere. Eventually, if two people (you and So-and-So) have went on dates, talked intimately, had sex, one of the two people (if not both) is going to want to know where he/she stands in the situation. Labels tell us where we stand. They help us understand how we are being valued and viewed by others. And, let’s be honest, our personal sense of self or identity is totally wrapped up in how others value and view us.

Sadly, I’ve noticed that a lot of twenty-somethings (as well as some thirty-somethings I’ve met) harbor a strong dislike of labels, refusing to understand the basic value of those labels to many, if not most, people’s sense of self. Nevertheless, a fundamental disconnect occurs during scenarios like the one described above. When a person seeks a label during such moments, he/she really is seeking out your opinion of him/her, and your refusal to deliver that in the form of a label comes off as a real diss, rather or not that’s how you meant it. Label phobic folks can help prevent these kinds of problems by being straight up in the beginning, before things get intimate, before wasting the person’s time. If you don’t want a label, a relationship or a commitment, just say so before the person gets attached.

Quite honestly, I am tired of running into men and women alike who refuse to label their affairs. If we have a scenario like the one mentioned, I can only interpret the refusal to label as a refusal to commit. (We can get into a huge discussion about what it means to commit. Here, I only want you to understand it as a basic promise to respect the person by refusing to sleep with or pursue other people while you are with said person.) So-and-So’s desire for sex with the person, while at the same time refusing to commit signifies a lack of respect. In this world of disease, the greatest way that one can show respect for a lover is by promising to be monogamous while with that person. But I’ll stop here, before I get off topic.

With all this said, I am mostly curious about why so many people are opposed to labeling their romantic affairs. What is gained and at what or whose expense? How has this issue, if it is one, played out in your love life?