When discussing a book, one typically ignores its design–after all, you shouldn't judge a book by its cover. Not to mention, the author usually doesn't get much of a say in the cover of a book. As an artist and graphic design enthusiast, I can tell you that the cover of a book matters a whole lot. I can think of countless times when the design and layout of a book seriously changed my opinion on it. This is why I thought it was important to point out that Citizen has possibly the best cover I have ever seen.
The cover of Citizen is an art piece on its own, and it holds up to the theme of the book perfectly. The hood is an instantly recognizable symbol; every American has heard the tale of the "suspicious" black man in a hoodie. The fact that it is messily cut from the rest of the jacket enforces the idea: when you're wearing this, people will not see a whole body, just the hood, and they won't see a whole person, just the idea of the dangerous black man this hood has come to represent. And, of course, the black hood is "thrown against a sharp white background," as is the title, Citizen, a title deemed worthless by the weight of the image above it.
Sunday, December 3, 2017
Yes, And?
Claudia Rankine is an astounding writer with incredible skill, whose work is so rich in meaning that it may be impossible to discover all the intent put into her work. While reading Rankine's Citizen, I was caught up on the meaning of one seemingly insignificant phrase: "Yes, and". It is first introduced in a passage early on in the book. Rankine writes:
This explanation of the phrase's meaning seems to make sense for many of its next uses. It appears again on pages 16, 17, and 43 as part of separate small anecdotes of microaggressions, on pages 28, 29, 31, and 33 during the analysis of Serena Williams as well as page 62 during a reference to that same tennis match. Though some uses of the phrase are incredibly poignant, such as, "Yes, and the body has memory" on page 28; others are seemingly random inserted in the passage. This is not to say they are not impactful - they serve as consistent reminders that racism is unavoidable, but I cannot but help but wonder why Rankine chose those exact moments to give that reminder.
The phrase then disappears for over 100 pages as the book transitions from structured to abstract, from displaying racism to living it. It finally reappears again on page 151, once Rankine has again begun to recount various moments of daily racism. It is contextualized by a commentary on how internalizing racism has become the daily routine, culminating in the statement, "Yes, and this is how you are a citizen" (151). This use is especially significant and thought-provoking as it also includes the title of the book. Twice more the phrase appears, on pages 154 and 156 (note: I may have missed a mention or two, this may not be a complete list).
However, Rankine does an extremely interesting thing on the final page of the novel: she reverses the word order. In her final message to the reader, she states, "And yes, I want to interrupt to tell him her us you me I don't know how to end what doesn't have an ending" (159). This flip appears at (I believe) only one other point in the novel - page 112's opening line: "And yes, the inaudible spreads across state lines". Though the intent of the flip is less clear than that of the phrase use in the first place, it appears to signify an inability to express the racism that is universally felt. Still, I wonder if there is some deeper meaning or purpose to these flips, as I am certain that they were written with painstaking thought and direct intention. A writer such as Rankine would not have let both the motif and its inverting happen by coincidence.
You are reminded of a conversation you had recently, comparing the merits of sentences constructed implicitly with "yes, and" rather than "yes, but". You and your friend decided that "yes, and" attested to a life with no turn-off, no alternative routes (8).She returns to the phrase on the following page, remarking, "Yes, and it's raining" at the start of a passage which finishes with, "And as light as the rain seems, it still rains down on you" (9). The rain is a fairly evident metaphor for racism, with even the 'light' microaggressions still affecting people's daily lives. Paired with the previous explanation of "yes, and" the phrase appears to become a reminder of the way racism is truly ingrained into society and the lives of citizens. Racism has no turn-offs, no alternative routes; people of color and specifically black people have no choice but to face racism head on.
This explanation of the phrase's meaning seems to make sense for many of its next uses. It appears again on pages 16, 17, and 43 as part of separate small anecdotes of microaggressions, on pages 28, 29, 31, and 33 during the analysis of Serena Williams as well as page 62 during a reference to that same tennis match. Though some uses of the phrase are incredibly poignant, such as, "Yes, and the body has memory" on page 28; others are seemingly random inserted in the passage. This is not to say they are not impactful - they serve as consistent reminders that racism is unavoidable, but I cannot but help but wonder why Rankine chose those exact moments to give that reminder.
The phrase then disappears for over 100 pages as the book transitions from structured to abstract, from displaying racism to living it. It finally reappears again on page 151, once Rankine has again begun to recount various moments of daily racism. It is contextualized by a commentary on how internalizing racism has become the daily routine, culminating in the statement, "Yes, and this is how you are a citizen" (151). This use is especially significant and thought-provoking as it also includes the title of the book. Twice more the phrase appears, on pages 154 and 156 (note: I may have missed a mention or two, this may not be a complete list).
However, Rankine does an extremely interesting thing on the final page of the novel: she reverses the word order. In her final message to the reader, she states, "And yes, I want to interrupt to tell him her us you me I don't know how to end what doesn't have an ending" (159). This flip appears at (I believe) only one other point in the novel - page 112's opening line: "And yes, the inaudible spreads across state lines". Though the intent of the flip is less clear than that of the phrase use in the first place, it appears to signify an inability to express the racism that is universally felt. Still, I wonder if there is some deeper meaning or purpose to these flips, as I am certain that they were written with painstaking thought and direct intention. A writer such as Rankine would not have let both the motif and its inverting happen by coincidence.
I Am a Citizen, Are You?
Before I even opened the book, I knew that the ideas it was going to explore were relevant to my country and therefore relevant to me. On the cover of Claudia Rankine's literary work, Citizen: An American Lyric, she takes the first step in inviting a white reader to listen to what she has to say.
The first part of the title, Citizen, evokes the idea of belonging in a country: a home country, a place that belongs to your family, your home, your country, you are welcome, you are proud, you belong. What makes someone a citizen? When you think of an American citizen, what image comes to your mind? All citizens have rights under the law, but not really. Not all citizens are treated the same. At the beginning and throughout the whole book, Rankine tells stories of micro-aggressions against black people and about racism on a larger systematic scale. She does bring up the word citizen again towards the end of the book, but by including it in the title, she puts the idea of what it means to be treated like a citizen in the readers mind immediately.
The second part of the title reads, An American Lyric. Before the book is even opened, the reader knows that it is about America as a whole, not a small group or part of America. Rankine makes it clear from the beginning that the stories she is about to tell are American stories. The stories about black people in America apply to all Americans. She forces the reader to realize that that the issues she writes about cannot be ignored. They cannot be put aside in a different category. They are American problems that white Americans need to pay attention to.
The first part of the title, Citizen, evokes the idea of belonging in a country: a home country, a place that belongs to your family, your home, your country, you are welcome, you are proud, you belong. What makes someone a citizen? When you think of an American citizen, what image comes to your mind? All citizens have rights under the law, but not really. Not all citizens are treated the same. At the beginning and throughout the whole book, Rankine tells stories of micro-aggressions against black people and about racism on a larger systematic scale. She does bring up the word citizen again towards the end of the book, but by including it in the title, she puts the idea of what it means to be treated like a citizen in the readers mind immediately.
The second part of the title reads, An American Lyric. Before the book is even opened, the reader knows that it is about America as a whole, not a small group or part of America. Rankine makes it clear from the beginning that the stories she is about to tell are American stories. The stories about black people in America apply to all Americans. She forces the reader to realize that that the issues she writes about cannot be ignored. They cannot be put aside in a different category. They are American problems that white Americans need to pay attention to.
Impersonal Racism, Personal Reactions
Rankine’s use of the body in a both impersonal and deeply personal way brings to light how racism functions. By showing the impersonal way people make assumptions and punish the black body shows how racism functions without having sense to it. Rankine reveals the personal by describing the black body’s reaction to racism.
In a very intimate and particular kind of way, Rankine describes the reflex type reactions to racism from the point of view of the receiver of racism: “Your fingers cover your eyes, press them deep into their socks….”(66), “Words work as release- well-oiled doors opening and closing between intention, gesture. A pulse in a neck, the shiftiness of the hands, an unconscious blink….”(69) , “An unsettled feeling keeps the body front and center.”(8)
All of these descriptions of sensations and reactions feel incredibly familiar. These reactions are ones people have had to many other situations other than racism therefore feel universal while also being deeply personal. These are reactions are so personal they feel lonely.
Rankine describes the nature of racism as impersonal by showing the actions of the perpetrators of racism: “Serena asks incredulously by asking if she looks like a gangster to him. Yes, he answers.”(34), “Haven’t you said this to a close friend who early in your friendship, when distracted, would call you by the name of her black housekeeper?”(7), “...people who felt her black body did not belong on the court.” On the other hand, these general descriptions of the black body and their statements about where it belongs and where it does not shows the senseless nature of racism. It shows the privilege that comes with being racist and the dehumanization that comes with facing it. Acting in impersonal ways towards others shows a lack of acknowledgment of the other as a full and individual human being. In America, assumptions are constantly made about the black body, those making these assumptions base them solely on the appearance of blackness.
These two ways Rankine describes the back body are complete opposites. They contradict and contrast each other in extreme ways. She highlight the senselessness of one way of seeing black bodies by showing the humanness of the other.
Video or It Didn't Happen
When Rodney King was beaten nearly to death by multiple white police officers in 1992, White America could not believe such an atrocity had occurred. The sad thing is that Rodney King was not unique in the violent abuse he endured; he was only unique in that someone caught it on film.
In 1992 it took a video of an innocent black man being beaten almost to death to get the attention of the American public. In 2012 it took a recorded phone call of an unarmed 16 year old boy being shot to death by a self-elected neighborhood watchman to get the attention of the American public. What about all of injustice committed against people of color on a day to day basis that isn't caught on film? Does it not count?
Even when we have video evidence of violence against black bodies at the hands of white police, the film has to be disturbing enough that we can't ignore it, because the last thing that White America wants to do is hold itself accountable. As Rankine describes it, there is no urgency to grieve for the black bodies murdered without proof (117).
Why do we care more about the murder or certain black bodies over others? It's because we only pay attention to the ones with video evidence so gruesome and painful that we can't avoid it.
In 1992 it took a video of an innocent black man being beaten almost to death to get the attention of the American public. In 2012 it took a recorded phone call of an unarmed 16 year old boy being shot to death by a self-elected neighborhood watchman to get the attention of the American public. What about all of injustice committed against people of color on a day to day basis that isn't caught on film? Does it not count?
Even when we have video evidence of violence against black bodies at the hands of white police, the film has to be disturbing enough that we can't ignore it, because the last thing that White America wants to do is hold itself accountable. As Rankine describes it, there is no urgency to grieve for the black bodies murdered without proof (117).
Why do we care more about the murder or certain black bodies over others? It's because we only pay attention to the ones with video evidence so gruesome and painful that we can't avoid it.
Double Standard
In Claudia Rankine's Citizen, there's a scene where the speaker is at Starbucks and she stands up to a racist while waiting in line. She calmly explains that what he said was wrong, and he takes her remark as overreacting. For Rankine, if a black women stands up for her beliefs, even in a civil way, she will be seen as a crazy black woman. She is emotional and overreacts. This discredits black women from standing up for themselves and others for fear of being seen as dramatic.
This idea of the loud, crazy, black woman, is seen all the time on the t.v. as well. We see women, especially black women, as overly dramatic as a means to not take them seriously. They are seen as catty and turn themselves against other women. Reality t.v. such as Real housewives of Atlanta portray black women as solely catty women who have anger problems. People tend to forget that black women as well as black men have to deal with the "Black Anger" stereotype.
This idea of the loud, crazy, black woman, is seen all the time on the t.v. as well. We see women, especially black women, as overly dramatic as a means to not take them seriously. They are seen as catty and turn themselves against other women. Reality t.v. such as Real housewives of Atlanta portray black women as solely catty women who have anger problems. People tend to forget that black women as well as black men have to deal with the "Black Anger" stereotype.
2 Dope Queens -- 10/10 Would Recommend
I was sitting at my dining room table doing other homework, and I was listening to podcasts. One of them was 2 Dope Queens. It's my favorite pass time when I have to do homework. I was listening to episode #33, "Hot Pickles". Which is a really funny name, by the way. Refocusing.. a guest speaker named Shalewa Sharpe. She talks about her experience of working with white liberal women, and having her first day of work be the most recent election day. These women couldn't pronounce her name, and were all the way Hillary supporters. Sharpe calls them "well meaning white women". Her first day of work, the ladies were partying, getting super excited for the win that Hillary would (SIKE!) have the next day. There was a cake in the break room, and everyone was having a good time. Sharpe was just trying to figure out how the phones work.
For her second day of work, the night after Trump got elected, all the white women were crying in each others' offices. Sharpe just continued with her day, answering the phones, when one of the women came up to her. She was talking about how she had "never seen this America". The reaction Sharpe had was different from the other woman, as she told the audience about how she had seen "this America" because she grew up in the south. She then continued to say that the America she had seen was everywhere. Her surprise was minimal when it came to who was actually elected the night before.
For her second day of work, the night after Trump got elected, all the white women were crying in each others' offices. Sharpe just continued with her day, answering the phones, when one of the women came up to her. She was talking about how she had "never seen this America". The reaction Sharpe had was different from the other woman, as she told the audience about how she had seen "this America" because she grew up in the south. She then continued to say that the America she had seen was everywhere. Her surprise was minimal when it came to who was actually elected the night before.
Fear of Black Anger
Deeper than a history of oppression and the forced labels of "lesser" and "inferior" which we have pressed upon black people, there is a fear of black anger. When you hit someone, sometimes you wince in anticipation of a hit back at you. It seems fairly clear that white people have been throwing punches for centuries, whether through slavery, segregation, legal discrimination, forced economic disparity, or internal prejudice. Yet, throughout all of that, we have constantly been afraid of black people, afraid of the other. I believe this to be our collective wince, our anticipation of retaliation.
"Sassy" and "angry" are two adjectives commonly assigned to black people. They are an attempt to discourage any kind of backlash. When a black woman says she is unhappy living in a world where she is constantly reminded of her skin color, constantly told she is lesser, we say she is an Angry Black Woman. In order to silence anger at prejudice, we feed the prejudice, ask that society look down upon this person, add more labels.
I think a lot of Rankine's focus on Serena Williams was in relation to the response Serena received. As soon as the outburst left her lips, Williams became an Angry Black Woman. The commentators were quick to criticize her, to distance themselves from the black-against-a-white-background. And her continual critiques throughout even her victories served as a White reminder that anyone who dissents will not be excused for their behavior, no matter how many trophies they earn thereafter.
And it is all fear. We fear because, deep down, we know we are in the wrong. And she is right. And the minute that we stop pushing her down, that we stop denying the Angry her anger, is the minute we lose all that we gained from the system.
The Pattern Behind Micro Aggressions
A friend of mine
mentioned that a lot of the snippets of life described by Claudia Rankin are,
particularly the ones involving Serena Williams, poor examples of micro
aggressions because they could happen to anyone – in other words, they seem more
like coincidences. It is true, Rankin diagnoses the problem behind these incidents as racial
prejudice when other issues could also be at fault. But I think Rankin is
pushing for us understand something a little deeper. On there own, some incidents could be
luck — a bad day or a misinterpreted gesture —, but added together Rankin
demonstrates the very real racism behind them and their significance to black
lives.
Take, for instance, Serena’s 2009 incident with the lines umpire who called a foot-fault during the last game. On its own, the incident was not necessarily caused by a racist (conscious or subconscious) intent, but added on top of numerous incidents beforehand involving unfair calls on Serena, the pattern is indisputable. Notably, Rankin also focuses on the reaction to Serena’s outburst, noting that she finally filled the racist stereotype of an ‘angry black person.’
Take, for instance, Serena’s 2009 incident with the lines umpire who called a foot-fault during the last game. On its own, the incident was not necessarily caused by a racist (conscious or subconscious) intent, but added on top of numerous incidents beforehand involving unfair calls on Serena, the pattern is indisputable. Notably, Rankin also focuses on the reaction to Serena’s outburst, noting that she finally filled the racist stereotype of an ‘angry black person.’
I think the effect of these micro aggressions is summed up beautifully in this line: “Then the voice in your head silently tells you to take your foot off your throat because just getting along shouldn’t be an ambition” (55). Micro aggressions are not on the same level as hate crimes, nor are they blatantly racist. The motivation behind them can be elusive, and so can the proper response. But one thing is certain — micro aggressions make it hard to just get along.
Citizen in sports
I don't really like poetry at all actually. So, I was a little worried about Citizen even though it can sometimes not be displayed as poetry. However, after I read the first section of this book I was thrilled. I really enjoy reading this because its so unique and it expresses so much information in a different way than most books do. Yes, it is a short book with not a lot of words per page but if you actually look its enough words to tell the story that it wants to tell and the pictures help a lot to. I like every section in this book but my favorite section would be the second section about Serena Williams and all of the things that she went through. Zora Neale Hurston once said, "I feel most colored when I am thrown against a sharp white background"; the narrator uses this statement to frame the situation of Serena being a black player in an overwhelmingly white sport. The most oppositional force in Serena Williams career has been the umpire Mariana Alves, who made five bad calls against Serena in one match back in 2004. The narrator suggests that it must have been Serena's black body that was "getting in the way of Alves's sight line" (29). The next year, the tournaments would install line-calling technology to challenge umpire callings via replay. When Serena is back on the court, she will be watched by a line judge who calls her out for stepping on the line during any serve. The announcers denounce the call, and numerous replays cannot indicate the moment of foul. Serena explodes at the line judge, having been thrown against a sharp white background. When Serena won at the 2012 Olympics, announcers said that she was "Crip-Walking all over the most lily-white place in the world... akin to cracking a tasteless, X-rated joke inside a church" (33). When told that the dance she had performed was called a Crip Walk, Serena asked if she looked like a gangster. The comment is taken and received lightly. She went on to win every match in 2012, and commentators would "remark on her ability to hold it together" despite questionable calls as usual (34). The section ends with Serena's tennis opponent, playfully embodying Serena’s physical attributes by stuffing cloth in her shirt and shorts on the court. The literal and metaphorical tennis match held throughout the book gives us a glimpse into the life of Serena Williams as well as the life of black Americans.
Review of the Citizen cover
Throughout the few years, police brutality and killings of African Americans have been brought to a worldwide attention. The cover of Citizen is represents the national cases of young African American males, who were shot and killed by local police officers. The picture on the front cover seems to be floating hoodie, with its sleeves and torso cut away, immediately you can recall these incidents. I believe this was a strong cover for Rankine to choose throughout the book, it reveals the ugly truth about racism.
Best Book So Far
Citizen is great. It is better than all of the books we have read so far. It is better because it is short and it can hold interest because the stories are so short and it has a new topic every few pages so it keeps me on my toes. Tenth of December was also considered short stories but I, myself, do not consider fifty pages short. The Stranger was too boring, which is because what makes Meursault interesting is that he is so uninteresting. Beloved had potential to me to be a good book at the beginning, but it ended up being too long and it bored me. And that brings us to Citizen. It is an amazing book that is very relevant to culture, especially right now. It is not long, and the individual stories are short so it is not hard to read. The best part is that it has a lot of pictures, which most good books need.
Natural Disasters Don't Discriminate, Emergency Aid Can, and Does
In Claudia Rankine's book titled Citizen, she writes a piece on Hurricane Katrina, the horrific category 5 hurricane that swept the Southeastern states like Alabama, Mississippi, and disproportionately more so, Louisiana and it's popular city, New Orleans. The immediate aftermath of the storm was atrocious, having flooded entire cities, breaking dams and levees, practically trapping or displacing thousands of people in a matter of days. Rankine writes a found poem, a collection of statements said on CNN's reporting of the cyclone. She quotes survivors who felt a physical and social isolation perpetuated by the lack of the federal government's execution of public preparation and subsequent aid. New Orleans, a city who's population is 60% black, had 80% of its land flooded; but natural disasters don't discriminate, emergency aid, arguably, can, and does. A day after the Lake Pontchartrain Levee flooded over, Louisiana's National Guard requested seven hundred buses for a mass evacuation, as the Superdome, filled with 30,000 evacuees had only prepared to sustain 36 hours worth of food. FEMA, the Federal Emergency Management Agency, who, days prior, was granted full discretion by the Bush Administration to mobilize aid to the victims, only sent one hundred out of the seven hundred requested evacuation buses. This federal neglect continued for days after as Bush dilly dallied around the country, hosting birthday parties, and ignoring pleas from New Orleans national guard demanding "everything you've (Bush) got." Rankine quotes a survivor "And someone said, where were the buses? And simultaneously someone else said FEMA said it wasn't safe to be there... What I'm hearing, she said, which is sort of scary, is they all want to stay in Texas" (84).
Many questions arise from our countries response to our first post-9/11 national emergency. The insane mismanagement of our federal bureaucracies and the factor that race and socio-economic status played in this situation perpetuated many Americans further distrust with their leaders. The lack of urgency from the Bush Administration and federal government as a whole begs the question, how did race impact the response and recovery of Hurricane Katrina? Subsequently, the handling of Katrina has been compared to our nation's reactions with Hurricane Harvey and Flint, Michigan. The Root argues that climate change and racism are too often overlooked contributors when America talks about natural disasters, even though they can be the largest causes of sustained suffering.
Rankine added a piece on the handling of Hurricane Katrina in her novel for a reason. It's well over time we start addressing these factors on a larger scale, so the effects of natural disasters are limited to its course, rather than our conscious.
Here are links to more articles regarding Hurricane Katrina:
http://www.cnn.com/2005/US/09/13/katrina.response/
https://www.theroot.com/race-and-class-are-the-biggest-issues-around-hurricane-1798536183
http://www.slate.com/articles/news_and_politics/politics/2015/08/hurricane_katrina_10th_anniversary_how_the_black_lives_matter_movement_was.html
http://www.history.com/topics/hurricane-katrina
Many questions arise from our countries response to our first post-9/11 national emergency. The insane mismanagement of our federal bureaucracies and the factor that race and socio-economic status played in this situation perpetuated many Americans further distrust with their leaders. The lack of urgency from the Bush Administration and federal government as a whole begs the question, how did race impact the response and recovery of Hurricane Katrina? Subsequently, the handling of Katrina has been compared to our nation's reactions with Hurricane Harvey and Flint, Michigan. The Root argues that climate change and racism are too often overlooked contributors when America talks about natural disasters, even though they can be the largest causes of sustained suffering.
Rankine added a piece on the handling of Hurricane Katrina in her novel for a reason. It's well over time we start addressing these factors on a larger scale, so the effects of natural disasters are limited to its course, rather than our conscious.
Here are links to more articles regarding Hurricane Katrina:
http://www.cnn.com/2005/US/09/13/katrina.response/
https://www.theroot.com/race-and-class-are-the-biggest-issues-around-hurricane-1798536183
http://www.slate.com/articles/news_and_politics/politics/2015/08/hurricane_katrina_10th_anniversary_how_the_black_lives_matter_movement_was.html
http://www.history.com/topics/hurricane-katrina
Citizen and Injustice in Sports
When reading Citizen by Claudia Rankine, I was thoroughly amazed with the power that Rankine brought to each short story. Her ability of demonstrating microaggressions in such a powerful way made each one of her stories more and more thought provoking, along with angering. However, the most interesting story she captured for me was about Serena Williams. After reading about her experiences as a pro tennis player, I could not help but go on a serious binge of various games and interviews of hers. What I found down this rabbithole was that each incident Rankine described, whether it was the “Crip walk” after a victory or how she “lost her shit” after a faulty call, was a blatantly racist portrayal. The media’s coverage was blown so far out of proportion that I often found myself checking to make sure that the minute thing I was watching Serena do was actually the scenario they were talking about. Serena holds herself with the same poise as any other tennis player, the difference is the media scrutinizes her much more than her other, predominantly white, opponents.
I had never really thought of race playing such a crucial role in sports before. I considered the current technology and spectatorship of sporting events made it hard for many calls to be made without at least at least being contested. What I found in Rankine’s story, specifically about tennis and Serena Williams, was pretty eye opening and has introduced to the unfortunate impact that someones race has on their ability to receive a fair game.
Forced to Reflect
When reading Citizen I have been forced to reflect on my relationship with being African American, In a way unlike any other piece of literature in the past has made me. It is easy for me to attribute racism to things we learn about in school like slavery, or to events like the shooting of Trayvon Martin or Michael Brown.
But it is hard for me to connect these events to my own life even though it is clear that they inadvertently have effected me. I have only ever had positive relationships with Police in my life, so I have to think hard and tell myself that Police Brutality is a real problem. But the thing that is much easier for me to understand are the "micro-agressions" Claudia Rankine litters her book with. It is these stories that resonate with me the most because on so many levels I am able to connect with the narrator and their experience. It is when the people we are closest to or the people you would never expect that are the ones who will at times do things you would have never expected. Often times I take these microagressions personally, but end up sweeping them under the rug.
I think every black person in the united states has been a victim of microagressions by a white person because not only do these things go unnoticed by white people, but sometimes they can happen without a black person realizing that they are actually being the subject of racism because they don't expect it or can not/do not want to believe it. It is this kind of racism that hurts America the most, because regardless of optimism for a future where systematic oppression is gone; much of the culture in the United States still revolves around this "everyday" racism that is almost intrinsic.
But it is hard for me to connect these events to my own life even though it is clear that they inadvertently have effected me. I have only ever had positive relationships with Police in my life, so I have to think hard and tell myself that Police Brutality is a real problem. But the thing that is much easier for me to understand are the "micro-agressions" Claudia Rankine litters her book with. It is these stories that resonate with me the most because on so many levels I am able to connect with the narrator and their experience. It is when the people we are closest to or the people you would never expect that are the ones who will at times do things you would have never expected. Often times I take these microagressions personally, but end up sweeping them under the rug.
I think every black person in the united states has been a victim of microagressions by a white person because not only do these things go unnoticed by white people, but sometimes they can happen without a black person realizing that they are actually being the subject of racism because they don't expect it or can not/do not want to believe it. It is this kind of racism that hurts America the most, because regardless of optimism for a future where systematic oppression is gone; much of the culture in the United States still revolves around this "everyday" racism that is almost intrinsic.
Did you just see that? Perspective in Beloved and Citizen
Beloved and Citizen both provide insightful accounts of perspective on the black experience. In both stories, perspective provides validation and confirmation of the reality of one's troubling experiences. In Beloved, the act of seeing and being seen frees Sethe and Paul D from the dehumanization and trauma they experienced in the past. We see this in the scene where Paul D tells Sethe about the humiliation he felt when Mister, the rooster, seemed to look at him mockingly while he had the bit in his mouth. He is freed from the dehumanization of Mister's gaze when Sethe looks at him and sees the humanity in his eyes and recognizes his vulnerability. Through this experience, Paul D regains his humanity by being seen as a human through Sethe's eyes.
Meanwhile, Citizen tells many accounts of fleeting everyday moments of discrimination. Although these moments are painful and significant to the one experiencing them, they are presented as though they were so normal that it's hard to tell if they even happened at all. Questions such as, "Did you just see that?" "What did you say?" "Did that just happen?" all serve to seek validation that microaggressions aren't something to simply forget about or pretend never happened. By seeking the confirmation of another's perspective, the protagonist reassures herself that the experiences she is having are significant and noticeable.
What do you guys think? Are there other examples of perspective in Beloved and Citizen? What other meanings could it have as a motif?
Meanwhile, Citizen tells many accounts of fleeting everyday moments of discrimination. Although these moments are painful and significant to the one experiencing them, they are presented as though they were so normal that it's hard to tell if they even happened at all. Questions such as, "Did you just see that?" "What did you say?" "Did that just happen?" all serve to seek validation that microaggressions aren't something to simply forget about or pretend never happened. By seeking the confirmation of another's perspective, the protagonist reassures herself that the experiences she is having are significant and noticeable.
What do you guys think? Are there other examples of perspective in Beloved and Citizen? What other meanings could it have as a motif?
The College Post
All of this work we have to do is incredibly stressful. I find it almost unbelievable how we're all expected to have essays, standardized tests, and paperwork all sorted out despite the fact that we're all still children (well, most of us are, including myself). If only our standards weren't so high, maybe we all wouldn't be losing our marbles so much. It's hard to tell if we're heading in the right or wrong direction by expecting our children to take on more rigorous academic workloads and entrusting them with greater responsibilities. Maybe it's helping us catch up with the rest of the world, or maybe it's just hindering us even more. Who knows!
Well, either way, I've been coping by having excessive amounts of undeserved fun and break time. Woo-hoo! But like, also, oh no. At least I don't think I'll drown under mountains of stress...
Well, either way, I've been coping by having excessive amounts of undeserved fun and break time. Woo-hoo! But like, also, oh no. At least I don't think I'll drown under mountains of stress...
Saturday, December 2, 2017
Confronting Injustice Without Making a Scene
I'm sure Rankine's essay about Serena William's and her "outburst" is something that struck a chord with everyone. It angered me, enlightened me, and worried me. What most stuck with me from that essay was the "'calm and measured logic"' described of Arthur Ashe, another African American tennis star known for his historic win at Wimbledon, and his work as a civil rights activist. Rankine notes that "Arthur Ashe, who the sportswriter Bruce Jenkins felt was "dignified" and "courageous" in his ability to confront injustice without making a scene" (35). The sportswriter aforementioned, Jenkins, goes on to critique Williams for using a protest technique that I believe most people would feel is quite peaceful, the act of boycott. Instead of "dignified" or "courageous", Jenkins only describes her actions as "stubborn". Williams solely exercised her right to avoid an environment where she had previously been traumatized in, but of course someone felt the need to ridicule her for not performing in the match. I wonder, when this asinine scrutiny will stop, not just for athletes like Serena Williams, but for other African American citizens living in a "progressive" nation that doesn't seem ready to color in its "sharp white background" (29).
"Smile for Me, Babe"
How many times have I walked down the street to the tune of wolf whistles and cat calls? Too frequent to count, too insignificant to recall. I am not alone in this experience. Hundreds of thousands of women around the world get these unsolicited "compliments" on the daily. One of the most popular comments? "Smile!"
The demand for a grin can happen directly or indirectly, from strangers or colleagues, in professional settings or on the street. In Claudia Rankine's book, Citizen: An American Lyric, she writes about her own experience with the unsolicited "smile." She writes, "A friend tells you he has seen a photograph of you on the internet and he wants to know why you look so angry" (46). This section of the book is a point where I believe Rankine is addressing her fellow women. She is confronting an issue that has recently been brought to the forefront of feminist movements and giving her own perspective on it. "Obviously," she writes, "this unsmiling image of you makes him uncomfortable, and he needs you to account for that" (46). Rankin's argument is similar to that of other feminists(though hers is with far more eloquence): men want women to smile because they are uncomfortable with women feeling anything except happiness.
The "typical" woman- greatly popularized in the 60s (think The Donna Reed Show)- is submissive, ignorant, pretty, and joyous. They are fluffy and happy, not a care in the world except getting the roast on the dinner table and making sure their hair stays put. Women have come a long way since then. Mostly. Women are accepted and even expected in the work world, women hold office positions, women are treated with respect in many instances. However, much like the racism Rankine addresses through her book, sexism is still there. It lurks behind "well-meaning" neighbors, old-fashioned bosses, school dress codes, even outdated etiquette. Sexism, much like racism, is still here. Maybe it is not as visible as it once was, but it is present nonetheless.
Rankine did not smile in her photo. She is just as powerful, happy, and successful whether she appears with a beam or with a scowl. Her appearance- her race, her sexuality, her clothing- should not be subject to scrutiny. Then next time someone tells you to smile, think of Rankine. Think of the prosperous, strong, confident, and talented author who made it without a smile plastered on her face as she tried to appeal to everyone else's expectations. And then go about your merry way.
The demand for a grin can happen directly or indirectly, from strangers or colleagues, in professional settings or on the street. In Claudia Rankine's book, Citizen: An American Lyric, she writes about her own experience with the unsolicited "smile." She writes, "A friend tells you he has seen a photograph of you on the internet and he wants to know why you look so angry" (46). This section of the book is a point where I believe Rankine is addressing her fellow women. She is confronting an issue that has recently been brought to the forefront of feminist movements and giving her own perspective on it. "Obviously," she writes, "this unsmiling image of you makes him uncomfortable, and he needs you to account for that" (46). Rankin's argument is similar to that of other feminists(though hers is with far more eloquence): men want women to smile because they are uncomfortable with women feeling anything except happiness.
The "typical" woman- greatly popularized in the 60s (think The Donna Reed Show)- is submissive, ignorant, pretty, and joyous. They are fluffy and happy, not a care in the world except getting the roast on the dinner table and making sure their hair stays put. Women have come a long way since then. Mostly. Women are accepted and even expected in the work world, women hold office positions, women are treated with respect in many instances. However, much like the racism Rankine addresses through her book, sexism is still there. It lurks behind "well-meaning" neighbors, old-fashioned bosses, school dress codes, even outdated etiquette. Sexism, much like racism, is still here. Maybe it is not as visible as it once was, but it is present nonetheless.
Rankine did not smile in her photo. She is just as powerful, happy, and successful whether she appears with a beam or with a scowl. Her appearance- her race, her sexuality, her clothing- should not be subject to scrutiny. Then next time someone tells you to smile, think of Rankine. Think of the prosperous, strong, confident, and talented author who made it without a smile plastered on her face as she tried to appeal to everyone else's expectations. And then go about your merry way.
Wrongful Inherent Fear
“Anyway, he wants you to know, he’s called the police” (15).
I think this line in Citizen is one of the most powerful lines in the entire book. The short essays in this book (because I don’t know if I actually do agree that it is poetry) serve to show the norms of whiteness and racism that exist in American society today. Stories exhibit people of color in their typical lives and how often and how normalized acts of racism against them are.
In the story that this quote is from, the speaker, presumably a middle aged African American woman, goes to see a movie, so she asks her friend to babysit her child. She ends up getting a call from her neighbor because he is concerned that there is a man, who might be dangerous, in the yard, so “anyway, he wants you to know, he’s called the police” (15). When the speaker returns home, she sees that the man, is in fact, the babysitter, who the reader can presume to also be African American.
I think this moment was one Rankine chose to highlight because it is such a direct link to current events. The image of the “vigilant white citizen” can be seen across the United States. Citizen was published somewhat in response to Trayvon Martin’s murder, and George Zimmerman very much fits the profile of the “vigilant white citizen” who thought he was protecting his neighborhood; African Americans in our culture have been so unjustly labeled as inherently dangerous. In the story, the man was having an animated conversation on the phone and, the white neighbor found that to be a good enough reason to call the police. Zimmerman saw a black body in a hoodie and presumed he was a threat. In the same situation, a white man would not have sparked the same fear as a black man, and that is the racism Rankine is trying to highlight. The inherent fear and criminality associated with black bodies in America is so wrong, yet somehow normalized, with case and point being that Zimmerman was acquitted.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)