Archive | January, 2012

Some Reflections on the Limits of Sainthood

16 Jan

 How does one determine whether a law is just or unjust? A just law is a man made code that squares with the moral law or the law of God. An unjust law is a code that is out of harmony with the moral law. To put it in the terms of St. Thomas Aquinas: An unjust law is a human law that is not rooted in eternal law and natural law. Any law that uplifts human personality is just. Any law that degrades human personality is unjust. All segregation statutes are unjust because segregation distorts the soul and damages the personality. It gives the segregator a false sense of superiority and the segregated a false sense of inferiority. Segregation, to use the terminology of the Jewish philosopher Martin Buber, substitutes an “I it” relationship for an “I thou” relationship and ends up relegating persons to the status of things. Hence segregation is not only politically, economically and sociologically unsound, it is morally wrong and sinful. Paul Tillich has said that sin is separation. Is not segregation an existential expression of man’s tragic separation, his awful estrangement, his terrible sinfulness?

 “Letter from Birmingham Jail” (1963)

Martin Luther King day is here again. For many, it’s simply part of a three-day weekend and, thus, a time to sleep in.  For others, MLK day has become yet another day to shop till you drop. It’s also a day where we are privy to various snippets from Dr. King’s “I Have a Dream” speech, played on loop and quoted by the most conservative pundits to the most liberal, although, quiet at it’s kept, he said many, many brilliant things.

A few years ago, I had the pleasure of teaching a literature of the Civil Rights Movement (CRM) course. Although I live in Alabama, a state filled to the brim with vital civil rights history, many of my students knew very little about the CRM, and even less about King, even though they all claimed that he was very important or even a personal hero.  It was during that time that I really fully recognized how limiting political sainthood is. All my students knew who MLK was (or thought they knew), but the information they had received about him was so sanitized and incomplete that his words and philosophy were simply platitudes trotted out once a year to underscore that we had achieved his Dream. Imagine their surprise when they read about King’s anti-war stance, his thoughts on capitalism, and his emerging radicalism towards the end of his life. Take, for instance, King’s words just months before his death:

 And the leaders of the world today talk eloquently about peace. Every time we drop our bombs in North Vietnam, President Johnson talks eloquently about peace. What is the problem? They are talking about peace as a distant goal, as an end we seek, but one day we must come to see that peace is not merely a distant goal we seek, but that it is a means by which we arrive at that goal. We must pursue peaceful ends through peaceful means. All of this is saying that, in the final analysis, means and ends must cohere because the end is preexistent in the means, and ultimately destructive means cannot bring about constructive ends.

“A Christmas Sermon” (1967)

 King’s sermon is not a series of platitudes but an admonition for our own time. Indeed, it’s high time that we take our icons, our saints, off the pedestal and really heed their advice. Keeping MLK and others as distant, perfect leaders is really a cop out, a way to assuage our guilt at being “inadequate” heirs to the Movement, or to fool ourselves into thinking we’ve achieved some “post-racial”  paradise, or to convince ourselves that the task of liberation is just too daunting. On this MLK day, I think that we owe it not only to MLK’s memory, but to the many forgotten foot soldiers of the CRM and Black Power Movement, to do more than recite sound bites or raise our fists in mock salute.  We need to remember the richness, the complexity, the contradictions, and the power of black political struggles in the U.S. and across the Diaspora, and continue not only believing that injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere, but we must continue doing something about it–at home and in the streets. 

From “King said in an interview that this photograph was taken as he tried to explain to his daughter Yolanda why she could not go to Funtown, a whites-only amusement park in Atlanta.King claims to have been tongue-tied when speaking to her. ‘One of the most painful experiences I have ever faced was to see her tears when I told her Funtown was closed to colored children, for I realized the first dark cloud of inferiority had floated into her little mental sky.'” 

5 Reasons To See The Mountaintop

15 Jan

I went to New York City over winter break to see Katori Hall’s The Mountaintop on Broadway.  I had been excited about seeing the play since it debuted in October.  It stars Samuel L. Jackson and Angela Bassett in a re-imagining of the night before Martin Luther King’s death. 

I found the play to be provocative and compelling in many ways, helping me to challenge what it means to celebrate MLK Day tomorrow.  More importantly I have been challenged to think about what it means to honor his legacy, a legacy that we inherited, linked to a dream that we expand with our own visions of equality and justice. 

The play runs through Sunday, January 22, and if you are in NYC or will be in NYC between now and then, here are five reasons I recommend you see it:

1. The play offers a portrayal of Martin Luther King as human, vulnerable, flawed, and afraid.  It also exposes his sexism, his occasional self-importance, his frustrations with the movement, his fears about dying, and competing responses to his cause.  It offers an intimate glance of his private, alone without an audience self, and then his flirtatious, needy, interestingly comical self– in the presence of a common woman who is both impressed by and ambivalent with him.  His regular black man self is more ephemeral than his public self, but we see the conflicts and complications of what his life must have been like, from the inside out.

2. The play is held together in the hands of a heroine (and expands the possibilities of feminine-focused spirituality).  One of the two main characters is Camay, a black woman who is strong, opinionated, beautiful, witty, charming, sarcastic, foul-mouthed and angelic, but NOT a stereotype!  Her character will inspire you to be yourself unapologetically and to use your traumas and pain to be a worldchanger.

3. The play does not shy away from the controversies or contradictions of King’s life, or his legacy.  It insinuates that there were multiple sides to him, as there are to all of us.  It shows us a glimpse of who he might have been, beyond the iconic figurehead of the Civil Rights Movement.

4. The play offers a reminder that social activism and social justice movements don’t start or end with one person.  Important work requires multiple arms (and sometimes more than a lifetime of time to invest). 

5. The play has an inspiring and powerful message.  (I am sure you saw this one coming).  The show makes you think AND feel.  As Angela Bassett said of the play, “It will make you laugh, it will make you cry, it will make you sigh.”

It is, however, not a show without flaws.  The scope of the topic is huge for an 85 minute narrative, and I found it to be a little slow-starting.  Also, as a rural black girl the exaggerated southern accents were distracting, at best.  Other critics have pointed out the lack of historical accuracy or the (un)believability of King’s everydayness.  I, however, am a fan.  The storyline captured my imagination and the amazing portrayals by the actors gave me characters I could care about, representations that were familiar, and a story/possibility that I will remember. 

 If it weren’t for the miles I would have to travel and the money I would have to find, I would see it again before the curtain closes!

It’s a f#@%g compliment.

12 Jan

I’ve been ruminating on this one for days. I thought that the longer I waited to write it, the nicer I would be. Fuck it, I was wrong. I’m just gonna go there.

I’m a feminist. Sometimes it feels like I live breathe, eat, and sleep feminism. Sometimes I don’t. Sometimes I’m just feminist enough. A while ago, I made the mistake of calling another like-minded individual a feminist. I don’t even remember what they did to merit the honor, but I sure do remember their reaction. They actually got offended at the fact that I called them a feminist. Wait. Stop. What?

I was taken aback by the negative reaction. I didn’t even know what to say or where to start. I apologized for offending them and we both went our separate ways. I still think of them as a closeted feminist. This made me realize that I need to be prepared. Should the opportunity present itself again, this is what I will say:

“Relax. I wasn’t trying to offend you. Me calling you a feminist was a fucking compliment. Why? Well, for starters your actions showed me your amazing strength. In spite of the patriarchal/political/cultural/societal structure that fails and oppresses you daily, I saw you fight back. I was impressed. So impressed that I called you a feminist. That was some real feminist shiiiiiit.

So, the next time you want to go on and be offended because I called you a feminist, please check yourself. You’re a fucking feminist. Deal with it. Don’t do feminist shit if you don’t want to be called out. Stop fighting it. Join the movement (willingly). We fight for you. We will fight with you. We believe in you. We will believe with you. We SEE you. We will always see YOU.”

For the record, you are taking a feminist stance every time you:

  • Don’t believe the hype
  • Take action to make the world a more just place (for all its inhabitants)
  • Question the patriarchy
  • Acknowledge your own privilege(s)
  • Believe that you are beautiful just they way you are–even on bad days
  • Talked to your friend/child/neighbor/family about the skewed norms the media/marketing machines create, uphold and push on us
  • Stood up to someone when they did you (or someone you love) wrong
  • Told your child that his/her hair, skin, smile, are beautiful
  • Questioned a double standard
  • Gave yourself permission to love yourself and others

The list goes on. Feminists do some real cool shiiiit. You may not be a full-fledged feminist today, but maybe–just maybe—you are feminist enough.


The Power of Words: Racially Coded Political Rhetoric

9 Jan


New Gingrich has repeatedly referred to President Obama as “The Food Stamp” President while contrasting that with his own aims to become “The Paycheck” President.

Ron Paul, in an attempt to beat unruly logic into submission, has tried to convince us that “entitlements” are not “rights.”  In an effort to dispute affirmative action and minority rights he equates such “entitlements” with the “entitlements” that big businesses get from big government, thus causing the word itself to lose any precision it might have had. This of course is in addition to his refusal to clearly address his connection to several blatantly racist comments on publications bearing his name.

Rick Santorum, descendant of Ronald Reagan’s “Welfare Queen” rhetoric, told a room of mostly white voters in Iowa that he doesn’t want to “make black people’s lives better by giving them somebody else’s money.”

Mitt Romney holds as one of his campaign slogans that he vows to, “Keep America American.”

Rick Perry, in a stunning move of political originality, asserts that our President is a socialist. With the word “socialist” serving as a catch-all for a whole host of undesirable traits and policies, including, but not limited to, disrespect for the 10th Amendment’s protection of states’ rights.

With one primary down and another coming up in New Hampshire tomorrow, it has become difficult to avoid the spectacle that is the quest for a Republican candidate for President. A spectacle made such by a cohort of candidates that stubbornly refuses to winnow, casting us all into the Party’s frantic search for a standard-bearer.

And so it begins in earnest: the contest within the Republican Party to dig up its next contender. Let’s start at the beginning, though. Elections are about politics. They are condensed, hyper-charged and frantic attempts to remove people from positions of power, or by other to hold on to those positions or newly acquire them. To do this they need to convince us that they deserve these positions of leadership.


If politics is about communication, then it is also inherently about language. And language is a complicated medium, especially in the context of rhetoric and persuasion as in the case of politics.

“For a large class of cases—though not for all—in which we employ the word ‘meaning’ it can be defined thus: the meaning of a word is its use in the language.”[i]

This assertion was made by philosopher of language and logic, Ludwig Wittgenstein.  Later in his philosophical career Wittgenstein proffered an uncommonly held belief that the meaning of a word or phrase can best be found by understanding the way that word or phrase is used. By way of explanation: traditional theories of meaning in the history of philosophy often looked to something outside the word or phrase to give it meaning. Something objective and/or representational. Wittgenstein challenged this idea intensely and argued that, “if we had to name anything which is the life of the sign, we should have to say that it was its use.[ii]

Now, this detour through Wittgenstein’s (latter years’) philosophy of language is to draw our attention to language and its power. A point also made, albeit in a completely different context, by another attuned to the power of language, Audre Lorde:

“For in order to survive, those of us for whom oppression is as American as apple pie have always had to be watchers, to become familiar with the language and manners of the op pressor, even sometimes adopting them for some illusion of protection.”[iii]

With this contest, as in all past election years, we are subject to contortions of history and murky poetics of politically coded language, per Lorde’s caution. I say “coded” because contrary to what the candidates are saying, we have to look to the way these words, words like “food-stamp president,” “socialist,” “entitlement” and many others are doing some heavy lifting in regards to race. They are imbued with meaning. If you don’t believe me just consider for a moment their “use.”

Consider the potential complicity with our racist legacies. Lorde and Wittgenstien, in each their own manner, asked us to assume responsibility for the act of listening to words for intent, for difference, and for the way they are used. Our competing parties and politicians give us competing aspirational narratives. Narratives that tell us a story about our history, and narratives that offer a vision of the future. So, we have to ask: What are the Republican candidates (and the Democratic ones, too, who deserve their own article about race) offering to us as a vision?


Gingrich, Paul, Santorum, Romney and Perry’s comments make the perfect case for the power of words. They demonstrate racially coded rhetoric in an almost symphonic manner. (Sexist rhetoric too, worthy of it’s own full analysis, since there are similarities but also important differences.) Let’s look at the responses that these candidates are offering when confronted with charges of using coded and racist rhetoric.

Currently, former Speaker of the House, Gingrich is irritated with the response to his remarks calling President Obama the “Food Stamp” President. Despite having offered the NAACP his services to come and explain himself, they remain uninterested in hearing Gingrich’s explanations.  Perhaps they consider it futile to give Speaker Gingrich the opportunity to explain how his comments are not simply about race. Something that would be hard to back up with his policy platform.  Gingrich’s thinly veiled and deeply charged language is clearly deploying the racist belief that there are certain Americans (black and brown ones) who would rather not work and that our President is allied with such people and caters exclusively to their interests.

Congressman Ron Paul, is dancing along a thin and meandering line between coveting the votes of racists while disavowing racist statements in newsletters bearing his name. In fact, he rather clearly disowned without disavowal when stating, “ If they want to endorse me, they’re endorsing what I do or say — it has nothing to do with endorsing what they say.” Given his broad and deep connections with people who say and do racist things, this is quite a non-apology and head fake toward contrition, but barely even that.

Former Senator Rick Santorum, has indeed disavowed racist intent, going so far as to claim that he doesn’t recall making those comments and that he “condemns all forms of racism.” This hasn’t of course gotten him so far as to condemn his votes against affirmative action programs, immigration reform and wage increases for this country’s working poor.

Former Massachusetts Governor Mitt Romney, the Party’s frontrunner, when vowing to “Keep America American,” is positioning himself in opposition to President Obama, undoubtedly. While some have apologized for claiming that this phrase is a 1920’s slogan from the KKK, it is still worth investigating. When Romney positions himself as the keeper of American identity, he is implying that others are un-American. What does he mean by implying that our first black President might be un-American? Is it to question his values, his beliefs, his policies? Perhaps it is all of those things, but to deny that this is racially coded-language is naive at best and willfully ignorant at worst.

And Texas Governor Rick Perry, perhaps in a league of his own, carries on using the term “socialist” with imprecision, and has defended the highly offensive (and rather obviously racist) name of his family lodge, by saying it had been painted over ever since he can remember seeing it: an assertion that has come into question.

Racists, and those who stand by when racist things are said, or actively exploit racism themselves, do not do so with blatant pride (for the most part). Such are the victories of the civil/human/womens rights movements, of which we are proud and for which we are grateful. Open declarations of racism are out of vogue. Which means we must look closely for the deployment of coded language and its aims.

When candidates talk about race without actually talking about race they are acting in a subtle, yet powerful, way to make the discussion about policy and politics into one that is charged with race and racism. Language is power. It comes from history and walks through to the future. It creates and sustains meaning. It holds the past and forges the present. It matters, and its importance cannot be understated.

As Wittgenstein asserted, when investigating meaning, the philosopher must “look and see” the variety of uses to which the word is put. He said, in no uncertain terms, “Don’t think but look!”[iv] So when we look at this unyeilding use of clearly coded language, what do we see?

[i] Ludwig Wittgenstein, Philosophical Investigations , 1953, G.E.M. Anscombe and R. Rhees (eds.), G.E.M. Anscombe (trans.), Oxford: Blackwell. P. 4.

[ii] Ludwig Wittgenstein, The Blue and Brown Books, 1958, Oxford: Blackwell.. P.4.

[iii] Audre Lorde, “Age, Race, Class and Sex: Women Redefining Difference.” Paper delivered at the Copeland Colloquium, Amerst College, April 198O

[iv] Ludwig Wittgenstein, Philosophical Investigations, P. 88.

Go See Pariah!!!

6 Jan

Title Character "Alike", dark skinned beauty, smiling with head cocked to the side

I’ve been trying to write a review for the movie Pariah for a while now but I can’t write anything that conveys what this film accomplishes. For those who need to know about the film before you see it, read Summer M.’s take and the review by Mecca Jamilah Sullivan at the Feminist Wire. Brilliant commentary (and Spoilers, FYI).

What I really want to talk about is the power of showing out up for art that creates new narratives and provides another lens on worlds that we don’t often get to see centered on the big screen. As much as I despise Tyler Perry’s films, I appreciate people’s willingness to pay for what they want to see and go out en masse premiere weekend. His audiences’ loyalty is what allows him to continue to create and branch out into other mediums like television. I want that opportunity for longevity and growth for folks who are trying to offer a different perspective. Dee Rees’ Pariah was years in the making and it took a village to raise it. I’m certainly proud to be a part of the community from whence it came and I’ve been rooting for its success for some time.

Three years ago I got an email from Beverly Guy-Sheftall, the indomitable director of the Spelman Women’s Research & Resource Center (and the professor that started me down the path of my feminist future), about a young filmmaker who was working to turn a short into a feature length film. I hadn’t even seen the short but I emailed everyone I knew based solely on the premise and the title. Pariah was a queer coming of age story with a Black girl protagonist. Nuff said.

Krys Freeman and I mobilized our respective networks and helped the film win a coveted Sundance prize that allowed it to be developed into a feature. We told folks to vote, asked people to donate money and we did! We weren’t alone. So many people were excited for this movie to exist. The opportunity to support a film for us by us was something a lot of folks could get behind.

On the CFC we offer critiques of culture but we also like to provide people with information about the things that inspire us and provide proof that another world is possible. Pariah is one of those things! Show up and show OUT for this movie! We are planning a “Let’s go OUT to the Movies” meet up in Atlanta to see the film when it premieres January 13. I encourage folks in other cities to do the same! Leave details in the comments if you’d like to attend or organize such an OUTing in your city!

There is only love…

1 Jan

2011 was a very good year. Last year, I had the utmost pleasure of spending time and falling in love with a wonderful woman. She is one of the most kindest individuals I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. Her smile has the power to light up my heart. Her voice soothes away all sadness. Her touch…[give me a minute]…her touch is just ever so gentle. If I had to describe the relationship in one word, it would be magic. Yes, magic.

What? You thought crunk feminists couldn’t get down like that? Well, think again. Our hearts come in a variety of sizes.

The romantic relationship ended. Why, you ask? Lets just say that life became too complicated. Strangely enough, amidst all of the chaos, she gave me peace of mind like I had never experienced before. When it was just she and I, time simultaneously stood completely still and ran away from us. Like, magic.

Instead of feeling the usual “why me?” after a romantic relationship ends, [warning this will sound weird], I keep growing from this experience. Oddly enough, the fact that I was able to love that deeply, let someone break down each and every one of my walls, and trust that for the first time in my life I had met my match–someone who could take care of me the same way I could take care of them–actually gave me incredible hope. The realization that I had the capacity to experience a love like that actually leads me to believe that if I found it once, I will find it again. Loving her taught me that although I had said the words “I love you” plenty of times before, they were just empty promises of feelings I was sincerely hoping one day to have. Now that I know what actual love is, I refuse to settle for anything less than the pure bliss I felt by her side. Something tells me that now that I have this knowledge, it can only get better.

I have never been the kind of woman that remained friends with an ex. In fact, I felt very fortunate to move to a different city after two major breakups. Additionally, I never had to deal with any “lets try and be friends” nonsense till Facebook came along and ruined everything. With her though, things are just different. I have so much appreciation for her as a person that even after we ended, I just could not find a reason to resent her.  There is only love.

I can’t do anything but carry her with me like I carry my most cherished family and friends. She will always be a part of my inner circle and I honestly cannot picture my life without her friendship. Most importantly, I know that although this lifetime was not meant for our love, she will find me in the next.

For now though, watch out world: I have all this love to give and I am finally ready to give it.

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