Tag Archives: Don’t make me get ethnic!

I See Your True Colors Shining Through

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So last night  this happened…

Miss America 2014

Miss New York –YAY TO MY HOME STATE, TWO WINS IN A ROW!-,  Nina Davuluri, was crowned the winner of the 2014 Miss America Pageant.  The 24-year-old is the first contestant of Indian heritage to become Miss America.

And the racists go wild!

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 twitter_starnes_1The new Miss America 2014 barely had the first hair pin in to secure the crown on her head when the backlash started.

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Being that this is Twitter, and we all know what a rainbows and lollipop filled space that is, I am not in the surprised by the nasty vitriol the spewed by these lesser informed Americans.  As usual along with their hate, their ignorance is shown at an all time high.

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I’m willing to bet a good majority of these ignoramuses against Miss Davuluri being chosen to represent the nation, were also upset that Marc Anthony sang the national anthem at MLB’s All Star game this past July because he wasn’t an American either. And we know how well that turned out for them.

If you’re born here in the US or in a recognized US  territory you’re American. If you immigrate here and become a citizen, guess what? you’re American. And American melting pot has a hell of a lot more colors in it these days.  Like it, and apparently quite a few do not, Nina Davuluri is an American citizen and is fully worthy of wearing the crown.

It galls me to no end how immigrants of color “are welcomed” to have anything they want, but -to quote Guns’N’Roses- “you better not take it from me”.  Immigrants of color are an asset to the country until they cross that invisible line and achieve -read as “take”- something deemed should be an American -read as “white”- ideal. Then it’s a problem and one of the first thing out of the complainer’s mouth usually is “They’re not from here”. If they would take their respective feet out of their mouth and extrapolate on that theory a bit, they might remember neither are they and the majority of us living here.

And I am sure all those of Native-American heritage justifiably nod their heads in agreement every single time they read something like this.

I find it appalling and yet “same old/same old” that ones spewing the most hatred were mostly Caucasians and the one shocked at that very same hatred are mostly Caucasians. As a minority I live with this on the daily. It’s fucked up, but not in the least surprising. The new Miss America is of Indian descent – it is a huge step forward in diversity.  Unfortunately, all those in the Twitterverse who feel otherwise about her win sends us two steps back in maintaining that divisiveness.

How Could You…?

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So, after some serious internet searching on Sunday, I finally saw the “Harriet Tubman Sex Tape” video by Russell Simmons’ All Def Digital that raised such a stink.  I didn’t even watch it all because all I found myself asking and continue to ask is…

How could you…?

Females in general have so few women in history to look up to and aspire to, to begin with. American historical females are much fewer and the number of American heroines of color that is even smaller still. And you take Harriet Tubman, the most courageous, the most noble of them, the most widely known black woman in history next to Rosa Parks and turn her into some antebellum Jezebel for the sake of what was presumed to be satire. No! Just no!

How could you?

To the actors and crew involved, yeah, I know… It’s just a job, and you got paid. If you did not do it, someone else surely would have. So the money might as well go in your pocket, right?  I hope you are all proud of it because this will permanently be on your IMDB page someday.  I get it, really I do, but still I ask…

How could you…?

Russell, how little you must think of the woman who made such remarkable history! Clearly, you do not respect her or her deeds.   Deeds, may I remind you, that were among the stepping-stones, which now give you the ability to create the tripe you posted in the name of humor.

What on earth made you –the collective you for all who participated in this nonsense, but you Russell Simmons specifically– think this would be acceptable, let alone funny, to the intelligent general public and to black women in particular? You didn’t.

And that is what is so appalling.

Black women here in America spend every damned day of their lives overtly or otherwise fighting sexual stereotypes.  Stereotypes placed upon us by the very type of “massas” portrayed in your little piece of jacked-up faux history.  Over a century later and we women of color are still fighting those stereotypes just so you can take Harriet Tubman, one of the very few examples of black womanhood who was above all of that nonsense, and turn her into a sexual parody.

How could you…?

Simmons, you are –well, I thought you were– an intelligent man.  There is NO way you could not have known there was going to be some backlash on this. Perhaps not as much as what you received, but you had to know. I believe this was done solely for getting All Def Digital noticed. There were so many other ways All Def Digital could have debuted to be smart, edgy, relevant, and divisive. You chose to make a mockery of Harriet Tubman.  By making her a joke of this caliber you diminish not just the woman, but everything for which she is known.

And do you want to know the real funny part? Image this video some 50, 20, 10, hell perhaps as little as two years from now. When all of us have moved on to the latest hullabaloo of the time, some ignorant racist assholes –who managed to download a copy before you had your ass handed to you and pulled the content off YouTube– will  show this to others of their ilk and pass it on as ‘historical truth’.  All because of you  thought it was something hilarious. Ha-ha, very funny motherfucker.

We need to fight not just to preserve her history and her reputation. Not just Tubman’s, but all the sisters  who have managed to make an indelible mark on our history.  In addition, to keep known for our future generations for the truths they are. Not tear them down, not desecrate their images to garner base humor.

How could you?

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Mountain Dew Drops Racist Commercial

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Mountain Dew  Drops “…the most racist commercial in history”

For those of you at work or on a device that can’t/won’t let you view the video, let me break it down for you:

In a police station, on one side of the one-way glass a battered white woman, on crutches stands next to a white detective who casually sips a Mountain  Dew while asking her to “nail this little sucker.”  Two other men, one white and one black, presumed to be fellow detectives, are also on their side of the glass.

On the other side of the glass is a line-up of all African-American male suspects. But  not just your average Joe Blow black man, no.  Each male exemplifies every inner city hip-hop/urban/thug stereotype a mama could ever warn her precious babies about, and a goat.

Yes, an actual goat.

The police detective tries to get the woman to point out her assailant “..the one with four legs”, but the woman is paralyzed in fear over whatever these scary black men, and a goat, have done and might yet do to her if she talks.

To further ensure her silence, the goat with the name card of “Felicia”, is portrayed with a deep speaking voice that sounds more like a pimp character from blaxploitation films than one would imagine say – a nanny goat would sound like, as he(?) utters encouragement such as “snitches get stitches, fool”  and “Keep ya mouth shut. When I get outta here, I’m gonna do you up” until the woman hobbles out of the room in tears, screaming.

You just need to watch this hot ass mess to get the full impact, but I’ll go ahead and ask the question already formed in your mind, in some fashion:

WHAT. THE. FUCK?!?!?!

So PepsiCo, tell us again, how did this bullshit come about? Mountain Dew recently released three new ads featuring a crazed goat voiced by rapper Tyler, the Creator, who was also the mastermind behind the commercials. The goat is seen attacking a waitress after she gives him the soda, fleeing a cop after getting caught with a car trunk full of the soda, and then threatening that waitress from behind the window of a criminal lineup Tyler, the Creator  is a founding member of the rap group Odd Future. Never heard of them? Neither had I and I apologize for ruining that particular peace of bliss for you.  It seems shock and offense are the tools of his trade for Odd Future. Tyler, known for his violent lyrics (“You’ll see the meaning of stalking/ when I pop out the dark to find you/ And that new dude that you’re seeing with an attitude/ Then proceed to fuck up your evening”), the rapper is committed to crossing boundaries of taste and decency.  It is members of the group who portray the human suspects in the line up. Odd Future is a group known for trying to provoke people with their actions. And provoke they did.

In just 59 seconds, the total running length of the clip, there is

Misogyny:

The sole female in the commercial is not a cop, not even a thug, but a beaten, abused, and likely sexually assaulted woman.  Because yes, this makes total sense in a soda commercial.

African-American Misandry:

It this Dewiverse it seems all black men are either misogynistic thugs, especially in the hip-hop/rap culture, or the token brother, barely noticeably standing in the background.

Stereotypes:

Black man in the urban/hip-hop/rap culture all wear du-rags, gold front teeth, white t-shirts (generally under an over-sized plaid shirt),  and go around abusing women, especially white women, every chance they get.

Racism.

What? Don’t you know only the ‘good ones’, read a non-threatening black man,  who knows how to stay in his place just outside  of the main spotlight that shines on the others, get to be in the place with the good, read white, guys.    When the detective coaches her with “the one in the du-rag” the camera focuses on one of the human, though by this point we clearly understand the goat is the perpetrator.  They are all are animals and look alike. (Think about it, what side of the glass was the goat on again?)

Yes, now that it has been brought to their attention on several fronts PepsiCo, has pulled the offensive ads from their site and their subsidiaries as well as have Odd Future remove it theirs.  Yet, oddly enough the blame is not spread on the various ad execs who not only signed off on this fuckery from the concept stage and then gave it the green light to be produced and aired. No, the finger is squarely pointed at the black guy, Taylor the Creator, read scape goat – pun fully intended. I mean what’s the problem? If the black guy was okay with it… right? Because clearly not one of those ad makers  were born and raised here in America and were totally clueless as to how such bullshit would be perceived. The ad-makers were very aware of Tyler’s music and decided to exploit that button-pushing. They absolutely knew what they were in for and wanted to to start shit—why? Just to sell soda – period.   PepsiCo deserves to be taken to task for this.

Congratulations Tyler, you not-so-stupid fuck, you’re getting your Dew. I hope they’re aren’t using lube.

Unpacking

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“I need to stop looking away and unpack my own reaction.”

My fellow blogger and friend, GirlGriot used that gem to describe her gut reaction to something. You can read all about it here.

I was telling a few friends a story of a crazy event that occurred over a year ago. I’ve told this story to several different friends over time, in the same way so I was not thinking about it as i told this group. At least I wasn’t thinking about it until a friend called me out on a racist comment that flew out of my mouth. I took a mental step back for a moment, but she was right. What I had said, even jokingly, was racist. I know it was a not-so-charming stereotype learned from my mother, among other places where such stereotypes are fostered, while I growing up. Still, I had not realized how deep that nasty little bug had dug in it came flying out.

As I said, I’ve told this story before to others in the same manner. I can’t decide if no one else ever noticed it before, or if they had, chose not to say anything. Neither option sits well with me, but the latter especially galls me. Once called on it, I owned up to it, because it was what it was. I know my friends know me better than that. What scares me is that it has been there all this time and I even I had not noticed to check myself.

I’m left wondering what other nasty little deep-rooted gems are waiting to come out and bite me. I’m praying that if it’s something I don’t notice, that it does not take over a year before I’m called out on it.

This Onion Reeks

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I woke up this morning still disgusted.

Satirical news site The Onion is known for its quick quips and scathing, if generally tongue in cheek, mockery of current events. The joke officially crossed the line with Oscar nominee, Quvenzhané Wallis of Beasts of the Southern Wild, when someone at the site tweeted “Everyone else seems afraid to say it, but that Quvenzhané Wallis is kind of a c***, right?” (The tweeted version was not censored.)

Yes, the tweet was deleted within minutes of being posted. I’m sure it is because they quickly realized it was appalling on so many levels, but I am also guessing the immediate backlash of an outraged public displaying our collective disgust helped.

It is deplorable to no end that an adult had such a nasty thought about a child.  Let alone be so amused by the repugnance, as to tweet it out to the world.  The c-word as an adjective is by and far still considered one of the most vulgar words one can use against a woman. Yet someone at The Onion thought it was okay, in fact funny, to use such against a young child. How young? Nine years old, young; young enough to carry puppy themed purses to the all of the award events to which her talent has been acknowledged, young.

And on the biggest night of her young life, thus far, someone thought it was satirically brilliant to call her the c-word before the world.  I’m sure Wallis’ mother appreciated the astute, rapier-witted humor The Onion had for her child.

Not that any word picking on a child, especially on such a prestigious night, would have been acceptable, but why that word?  Why a word with such sexual connotations? Why against a child? And let’s just throw it out there, why against a Black child?  Because being an adult actress of color in Hollywood is such a cake walk as it is. Let’s give Quvenzhané something to look forward to as she pursues her career.

And As sexist and misogynist as many of Seth McFarland’s jokes were throughout the night, The Onion in one loutish tweet suddenly made him a class act. I will however quote him on one joke he got right regarding Quvenzhané Wallis “You’ll be at the future Oscars when the rest of us are dead.”

Yes, with talent like hers, she will be at many more Oscars and when she finally wins…?

Boy, oh boy, I cannot wait to hear her acceptance speech then!

Notions of Beauty

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As an adolescent she’s told her looks are of a different class
Thus she finds herself staring hard in the looking glass
Not something she understands like ‘cute’ or ‘pretty’
Or even something as distinct like ‘siddity’
Just a tad too young to get the full meaning of erotic
But just old enough to know it’s not good to be exotic

Ferried every other Friday to the beautician’s chair
The only way to tame her long tightly woven hair
Suffers sleeping at night with a snug clothing pin
Shaping her nose so it’s straight and thin
Wooing her lips to sit just a tad inside
Knowing what they say about lips that are wide

Gone are the colorific beads that once adorned her hair
She’s older now and looks like that look cause stares
No batiks of blazing hues or other prints of ‘that’ fashion
More intents to belie the stereotypes of passion
Make sure her posture, like her diction is just so
Muddling through comparisons to a cookie we know

Walking ramrod straight without a rounded swerve
An attempt to camouflage of her natural curve
For decades she carefully toed that social standoff
Through the changing climes of wardrobe and coif
Never looking like ‘that’ was her personal pride
But conflicted as social and ethnic respect collide

But one perm too many turned it all about
Years of chemicals caused her hair to fall out
She tried extensions and other sorts of hair aids
She’s told leave it alone or more will fall out in spades
Her hair short and kinky, not since her childhood
She’s forced to face her definitions of what is good

Her childhood teachings, the well meant suggestions
Every single bit of it came into question
Resentful for feeling defensive of other’s disdain
Now that her looks no longer follow the ‘main’
Realizing she herself was once guilty of the same negation
That had nothing to do with her character or her education

It was a few years more to combine mentalities
Before she was comfortable with her new realities
Now she revels in her cultural prints and chains of jute
And she’s just as gregarious in her pinstripe suit
No longer concerned with how well she blended
Notions of beauty redefined, her spirit mended

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dVerse ~ Poets Pub | Poetics– The Art of Letting Go

and yet…

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It’s summer in the City. One of the many gazillion things to look forward to is the free concerts that occur throughout various venues. From early June to early August the open common area in front of my office building is one of them. Every summer the company that hosts the festival trots out various Rhythm & Blues and/or neo funk and/or (fill in the blank) near has-beens to potential gonna-bes for our perusal and hopeful lunchtime entertainment. Yes, lunchtime. I am sure several of you reading this not so jokingly just asked what’s that?

I have no idea; I ask the same question.  By the time one gathers lunch and gets downstairs to enjoy the music all the good seating is taken up by those who have staked their claim for a least an hour before the event start time. Most attendees for these events either stand for however many minutes they have remaining before returning to their duties or find a seat where all you can do is listen because you surely can’t see anything.

Don’t let my sarcasm fool you.  I have spent my time standing around nodding to some old school or new jack beat when the performing artist was someone of interest to me so, it actually is a very pleasant way to spend one’s truncated time. Ah, but I digress…

All of the above was to get to this…

I run into a colleague a few yards from my building as I am returning to work after running errands during lunch.  (Hey, I told you I had no idea what it was, didn’t I?) The conversation went as such:

C: Hey there, I know you’re out here enjoying your music!
Me: Actually no.
C: Why not? Isn’t this your type of music?
Me: My type of music?
C: Yeah.
Me: Why would you think this would be my type of music?
C: Because…
Me: Because that is just as fucked-up as someone only expecting to hear Dean Martin crooning Volare or That’s Amore in an Italian restaurant and because that’s your type of music?

And that ladies and gents would be about the moment her brains opened and her mouth closed. Either that or the single arched eyebrow that I know appears when I’m faced with the completely ignorant chose to make itself known.  It was pleasant watching her squirm for a moment before I walked away.

So close and yet damn far…

The Fire Next Time…

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Other than my poem, A Lesson Deferred and a Facebook status post, I have been pretty quiet on the whole Trayvon Martin matter. A friend called me on it knowing I must have some opinion. My response was along the lines of simply not wanting to go there again. Today, I read a comment from a fellow blogger’s Slice of Life post from yesterday and she has nailed my feelings right on the head…

“I am so very tired to being quiet, of having to be concerned about the degree to which I can express my feelings because I have to worry that people will label me an “Angry Black Woman””

This is how I feel in a nutshell.

What does it say when a public figure such as Rush Limbaugh regularly feels free to spew vitriol on a variety of subjects, but I feel that I feel the need to self-censor? The very fact that I feel this restriction, this need to play the “Good Negro” just makes me more angry.

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Visit the rest of today’s Slices of Life over at Two Writing Teachers.

SOL - Slice of Life March Challenge 2012

 

My Baby, He Loves Me…

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Drifting on a mode so deep – had to put it to words so I can sleep
Some of you won’t like this I know – but the muse goes where it wants to go

My Baby
He Loves Me

He Loves Me Like Chi-Town

Gangsta All The Way, ‘Cause He Know I Don’t Play
Before He Could Love Me Here, He Had To Love Me There
He Had To Speakeasy To Find The Key To Unlock My Mind
Because Once Unlocked There Is No Prohibition To What He Won’t Do For Love
Because Once Unlocked There Is No Inhibition To What I Will Do For Love
Because Once Unlocked There Is Just The Mission To Love

My Baby
He Loves Me

He Loves Me Like Detroit

Do-Wop Singing, Joy Bringing, Hip Swaying, Motown Playing
Hot Car Driving, Always Striving To
Giving Me The Best That’s He’s Got
Giving Me The Best ‘Cause It’s Hot
Giving It All Until We’re Bloodshot

My Baby
He Loves Me

He Loves Me Like New Orleans

The Big Easy – Easy Like A Sunday Morning, Just As The Day Is Dawning
Like Cool Jazz On The Hot Delta, I’m Telling Ya’ll I Never Felt A
Who Do The Voodoo, Like He Do
The Bass Of His Sax Makes My Skin Thrum
The Bass Of His Sax Makes My Lips Hum
The Bass Of His Sax Makes Me Just Wanna Succumb

My Baby
He Loves Me

He Loves Me Like Compton

Timberland Wearing, Rough-Neck Swearing
All The While Smiling Cause We Doggie Styling
Free-Styling On Crenshaw Where They All Saw
The Liquid Ounce¸ Ounce, Ounces Of The Forty
Drip On The Flounce, Flounce, Flounces Of My Booty
In The Bounce, Bounce, Bounces Of The Hoopty

My Baby
He Loves Me

He Loves Me Like The Big Apple

Creating It, Making It, Taking It, Never Faking It
So Good It Makes Me Weep For The Sexing That Never Sleeps
Ain’t Got A Damn Thing To Say When He’s Laying Down The Broadway

Shoes On The Counter, In The Hall, Still Outside The Front Door.
Buttons Splattered, Clothing A Tattered, Scattered Mess On The Floor
No Shame In My Game ‘Cause Don’t You Know?
I’m Well Versed In The Language Of Fellatio
Going From “oh baby, oh baby, oh baby, oh.”
To “Oh Baby! Oh Baby! Oh Baby! Oh Baby! OH!”

Back Stinging From The Sweat In Trails His Nails Left
And Moaning For More ‘Cause I’m Not Done Yet
Tom Catted, Hair Matted,
Sheets Twisting, Sweat Glistening,
Cock Throbbing, All Out Sobbing
And That’s Just Him . . .

Menage A Trois? Yeah! Fuck That And Get The Strap!
Tongue Dripping On The Cunt Dipping For
The New Jack Trick Of The Deep Licked Long Dick
Where I’m Laid Down To Get Jacked-On
Where I’m Held Down To Get Sucked-Off
Where I’m Tied Down To Get Fucked Up

Stroking, Stoking, Toking, Smoking
Steaming, Streaming, Screaming, Creaming

MY! BABY! IS! LOVING! ME! UNTIL! WE! ARE! FUCKING! EACH! OTHER! AS! HARD! AS! THIS!

And Oh – Did I Tell You About My Baby?

He Loves Me…

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dVerse Poets Pub | OpenLinkNight Week 37

A Lesson Deferred

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Moonlit justice
of an imagined sunlit crime
Swung from an oak
a cruel pendulum mark of time
Some eyes tremble
Some eyes leer
all wonder at the marvel
of what happened here

Emmit’s a lesson some can’t forget
Emmit’s a lesson some haven’t learned yet

How many more
Must there be
Why does it take a man’s death
for us to see

As we travel down the road of another man
Who will never travel the same again
Truck tires designed to ride him above
Much better used to drag him down in the night
For a crime no more sinister than
He wasn’t born white

James Byrd’s a lesson some can’t forget
James Byrd’s a lesson some haven’t learned yet

And sometimes a child is shot
For doing nothing more
The walking home in the rain
From the local store
Was it the clothes he wore?
Was it the color of his skin?
He carried iced-tea and candy
What was his sin?

Some fifty plus years between hence and thence
To be reminded how fragile the balance on the fence

Stewart, Griffith and Hawkins lesson some can’t forget
Diallo, Bell and now Martin lessons some haven’t learned yet
How many more names will be added before the lesson is set?

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Letting off some steam in the wake of another senseless killing and wanting to bitch-slap Geraldo Rivera even while a part of me understands the rational behind the unintentionally inflammatory statement.

Visit the rest of today’s Slices of Life over at Two Writing Teachers.

SOL - Slice of Life March Challenge 2012