It’s 2019, Why Are We Still Policing Blackness?

Hello Meltingpot Readers,

As we wind down the Blackest month of the year, I wanted to write something positive and inspirational about  Black people in America. Instead, I’m using this penultimate Black History Month blog post to lament the continuous policing of Blackness.

Not Black Enough

As a Black girl who grew up in Caucasia, aka Wisconsin, I always questioned my place in the Community. Due to having very little contact with other Black people besides my large and loving family, coupled with comments like, “You talk white” and “You’re not really Black,” from Black people I did come in contact with, I spent a long time believing I wasn’t, in fact, Black enough to be Black. This hurt. A lot. Because if I wasn’t Black, what could I possibly be? I didn’t want to be white. My mom made sure of that. I just wanted to be free to be myself. And since that self was covered in chocolate-brown skin, topped with a head full of kinky, black hair, I was ready to play on #TeamBlack but I was convinced the team didn’t want me because I didn’t measure up.

Fast forward a trip to Morocco, a year spent in Spain, 15 years immersed in Brooklyn (before it turned into Manhattan South) and a LOT of self reflection, I am now very happy and confident being my own type of Black girl. My Black may not look like yours, but you can still call me sisterfriend. And now I want the rest of Black America and White America – because white folks are just as guilty of buying into the “only one way to be Black” stereotype –  to stop telling Black people how to be, or worse, that there is only one official way to be Black. There isn’t one way. There isn’t a rule book. There is no Black person prototype. We don’t all have family down south. We don’t all sing and dance. We don’t all love hip hop. We don’t all eat soul food. Some Black people are vegans. Some Black people have no sense of rhythm (my hand is raised). Some Black people can trace their ancestors all the way back to Boston!

I have spent my entire career as a writer trying to highlight the diversity within the African-American community in an effort to dispel the myth that Black Americans are a monolith. At the same time, I also write about the shared cultural experiences that many of us experience that do in fact bind us together. But those shared experiences should not be shackles, nor should they be tickets for entry into an exclusive club. For example, if a Black woman has not had the experience of having her hair lovingly braided by a grandmother who used Johnson’s blue hair grease, it doesn’t mean she’s not really Black. It means she didn’t have a grandmother who braided her hair with blue hair grease. That’s it.

Does Kamala Harris Pass the Black Test?

Recently, I noticed a slew of articles about senator Kamala Harris, after she announced her bid for the presidency. At first the articles questioned her record as a district attorney, but then I noticed people started questioning her Blackness. Harris is of mixed-race ancestry, her father is Jamaican and her mother is Indian, but she identifies confidently as Black. Growing up she lived in Black neighborhoods, she attended Black churches and went to Howard University, a freaking HBCU. Still, articles and social media threads can’t stop asking if Harris is “Black enough.” Black enough for what I’m asking. Is she Black enough to understand what prejudice feels like or Black enough to have experienced racism? Would that make her more qualified to be president or simply more qualified to be the captain of Black America? I don’t know if she’s qualified to be president but we’re not going to figure it out by making her compete in the Black Enough Olympics.

People also think because Harris is married to a white man, she cannot possibly be a real Black person. Might I remind the doubters that marriage to a white person does not mean that a person’s melanin immediately gets revoked by the devil, nor does it disqualify someone from being pro-Black and playing hard for #TeamBlack. See Frederick Douglass, Father Divine, Josephine Baker, Alfre Woodard, and Serena Williams as examples.

Let’s Stop Policing Blackness Because there’s Room for Everyone at the Black Table

I really wish there could be a group lesson for the entire population of the World that could explain that there is no official Black experience. Thankfully, there are a bunch of content creators who are addressing this issue. The author Ibi Zoboi just published a wonderful YA anthology of short stories called, Black Enough. The book offers a diverse collection of stories that according to Publisher’s Weekly,  “[show] teens examining, rebelling against, embracing, or simply existing within their own idea of blackness.” I’m so happy this book exists because it kills me to see yet another generation of Black kids grow up thinking they’re not Black enough because of the way they talk, or dress, or because of the music they listen to or who they love. For the grown folks amongst us, there are a ton of blogs, podcasts, books, videos and social media accounts that are also dedicated to pushing against stereotypes and amplifying the ideas of what it means to be Black in this world. From a website like Black Girl Nerds to an organization like Outdoor Afro, the information is out there. Now, if we could just get everybody to consume it and finally put a stop to the policing of Blackness, we’d be able to move forward with our plans for eliminating racism and white supremacy. And we’d be moving forward with a stronger and more supportive group. The sooner we recognize that we are all Black enough just the way we are, the better.

Peace!

p.s. I’m just wondering if other ethnic/cultural groups experience this same identity dilemma and if so, what does it look like? Please share. I’m listening.