Difference Between White & Black Men in Marriage? History!

This is my response to a disturbing article called 8 Reasons to Date a White Man, published over at Madame Noire, which does a great job at making Black men (en masse, without any historical reflection) out to be horrible, ignorant, jerks:

As a Black woman who always dated inter-racially, but is now married to a White man, I feel keen to comment. At first I felt a sense of the ridiculous in reading this piece and was only laughing - then when my husband began reading as well, he became really upset in part on behalf of my brother and father who do not fit any of the underhanded, vicious, evil stereotypes this scary, unsettling article heaps onto Black men!!

As I reflected on my husband's frustration I too got upset because, not everyone can or will laugh and dismiss this garbage - some people will come away thinking this is a valid list of "reasons" White men are "better" than Black men, which would be a crime! Because 1) one needs to find a person who fits or clicks with them regardless of race! Plus, 2) in relationships, all bets are off! And 3) these broad stereotypes just don't hold up to scrutiny or careful thought!

For example, the author clearly didn't do research when declaring white men free of "down low" behavior or she would have discovered that in strict religious communities, White gay men are just as repressed as Black. I had a gay Mormon acquaintance in college who readily admitted he planned to marry a woman, have a family, and have sex with men at the same time later in life. And what he was saying did not seem odd to him since there were many out there he knew planning to do the same. The only difference between White and Black is that Black people are amazing at clever language and naming things - hence the Down Low idea has more traction with us, but if you look up books or info on the internet about women finding out their husband is gay, you will find all races of women dealing with this.

Another example: as for babies out of wedlock, insecurity, financial intelligence, and all the rest, these alleged differences are wholly attributable to different economic and social situations rooted in historical inequities!! Of course it may be easy for a White man to be more secure: he can trace his family history back to a country of origin, he's never been assumed criminal simply based on his skin color, and he has never/seldom had to swallow his pride to stay alive! And neither has anyone in his family! Of course a White man "may" know about finances: when you have never been disenfranchised you have had your wealth long enough to learn how to make it work for you! (see film & history of Rosewood for what happened often/for a century or more to Blacks who tried to own, have, or build anything - success stories are the rule, not the exception)


Finally, of course White men aren't threatened by educated, accomplished Black women: as Cheryl Harris' brilliant essay "Whiteness as Property" makes clear, regardless of how brilliant you are, you're still not White - so even if this never occurs to your husband as a reason not be threatened by you, the fact that he's always had an easier time of it means your hard work in some sense means less. That may sound harsh in some ways, but the fact of the matter is: if you're with a White man, then there was never a time when it was literally illegal for he and his family to Learn, as it was for Black folks. Therefore, accomplishing the feat of gaining a lot of education means more within the Black community and inside Black relationships than in Black women/White men relationships.

And finally, considering that poverty is the determining factor for Many of these issues: if you go to any poor white community, you find these same problems/issues are not only pervasive but the norm. Has the author even seen MTV's show "16 and Pregnant" because I've only seen one or two featuring Black people, most are White! And that show "Sister Wives" on TLC - you would be hard pressed to show me a more insecure White man than the one on that show who needs 4 women adoring him to feel complete!! And you get the feeling that these women come from non-too-wealthy backgrounds.


All this is to say, generalizing about men like this does a grave wrong by ignoring the history and present and the fact that at the end of the day, every man wants someone to take care of them!

Don't Sue Your Students! Survive Ivy League Teaching or Move On!

This is my response to story of coo-coo Professor Priya Venkatesan who threatened to sue her students over harassment when she tried to teach!


All I want to say - without in any way supporting the profoundly bizarre and odd act of attempting to sue your students for being their silly, young selves - is that, if you have never been a woman of color attempting to teach in the humanities (or any other discipline for that matter) in one of these Ivy League institutions, then its going to be extremely difficult bordering on impossible for you to understand what it is like in these environments, and why this poor woman may have snapped like she did. Let me explain:

There is an inherent competitive hostility (even with/against a student's professor/instructor) because it is The Ivys. Then add in the "naturally" socialized prejudices/biases and argumentative predilections of young people who are in fact untutored and unschooled but believe themselves already perfectly brilliant - after all they were valedictorian of their school or whatever - and you have a recipe for some often very difficult classroom moments as an instructor/professor of color. And being a woman can often make things ten times worse! Heck, in discussing teaching pedagogy, we have to make sure we cover the chapter titled:

"How to deal with an extremely stubborn and hostile student who is targeting you for harassment - probably/possibly due to race or gender - in a neutral and diplomatic fashion"

And this is even if you are teaching something very rote and basic and widely accepted. In the past with difficult students, teaching simple reading/writing techniques, I have had to literally blanket the table/desk at the front of the classroom in paper/texts from other, respected, published, usually White sources that echo whatever I've been trying to teach, just to get students to lay off! Even now I can hear myself saying, "Look, Plato started doing this first, not me, and that's why the university feels it is important for you to learn." Sigh. It can drive one insane.

That said, I have pity on her, although I think she only made things worse with all this lawsuit business. She just should have written it off as a bad semester and moved on! You can't win every group over every term.

Objectionable Prescriptives for Women's Viewing Behavior...

Response to Edelstein's review of BrideWars over at NPR:

Dear Edelstein,

As a female-of color-English Ph.D. student with very broad interests and sensibilities, I am having trouble figuring out in what way your 'review' of this film is most offensive! Is it:

1)In its essentializing of the female experience - as if there is some exclusively female frailty that is inherent and prohibitive of certain behavior. In other words, you seem to believe that if men find it funny women can't as well because...?

2)In your presumption that to be Female is to only find specific (what, "ladylike"?) forms of humor funny or acceptable. The scene at the bridal shop became more funny for me than for my husband because he doesn't know the value/cost of bridal gowns (I do) nor the strain women regularly are under Not to allow any untoward smells to escape their person- let alone a food poisoning explosions. For the women of our group, this made the scene a cathartic rush revealing that we too are human... and in pain over that gorgeous ruined gown!

3)Your reduction of Melissa McCarthy's wonderful and emotionally complex performance to one of playing off of her Girth! There was more nuance and grace to her portrayal than you give her credit for, and your review smacks of your inability to see beyond her weight.

Part II:

I'm sorry, but I must make one more comment or suggestion about what makes this review problematic - as 'Analytical Ph.D. Student' I cannot fail to give "suggested reading" if I take issue with an argument.

It seems that at best, this Review would be better described as an ill-intentioned and oddly toned Referendum on what women are or are not permitted to find humorous, or what experiences women are or are not entitled to have/claim as part of their functioning as human beings in an American cultural setting!

I suggest you watch the South Park episode on queefing. (Though unladylike I suppose, there is no other more appropriate and simple word to choose.) I thought they did a great job at highlighting that women have a sense of humor as well that can intersect with bodily (mal)functions.

Women have bodies too, and in some ways are more of our bodies than men are by virtue of our frequent object status. (See fast food places giving girls dolls and boys trucks in kid's meals.)

There is a prim propriety thrust upon women which I am happy to see these hysterical, bright women shake off the yoke of in this film! Please stop trying to tie them back down with antiquated, prescriptive genre titles.

Why Are We So Slow As A Country??

If you haven't seen this amazing comic-commentary pseudo-commercial from Will Ferrell friends speaking out against Big Health Care Companies making billions off of keeping Americans sick, then go see it now!!

When will we realize its crazy that we are the only westernized wealthy country who doesn't care about the health of our citizenry? No wonder we're the fattest country in the world, the insurance companies need us to be!

Reading: Remember, Savor, Repeat

Been away a while. Needed to not think about typing anything, even something as therapeutic as this blog. Time to be without technology... I wanted to read regular old books and watch Law and Order and relax. Of course I can't do that, I have to take a summer language class.  A dreadful invention meant to induce migraines. I need to read a Good Book and have to lingering worry about generals questions later on. 

Reading as therapy. Which reminded me of something.

Months ago, a professor in giving advice to a student applying to PhD programs near me advised her not to put something pedestrian in her application essay like she wants to go to grad school because she likes reading. And I've let that ruminate for a while now.... because you see, I put that I love reading in my essay.

Did this professor read my essay? Did others think me boring for the statement? Because I meant it in  no germane context.

I think we take reading for granted far too often forgetting the insanity of scribbled black marks becoming... Yes, becoming.

We forget how complex the manner of inscribing language which we think we know but which - like driving over certain speeds or the ocean after you've reached a certain distance from shore - is truly not within our control. We forget to consider that how we use what we say in specific ways to achieve certain ends, and how when written down in what is allegedly a stable form, there is still that false bottom hat where the rabbit is hiding. We forget that all too often what we throw out does not bounce the way we thought it would, and challenges our ability to clean up mess with more mess - far riskier lobs.  Language, reading, is playing tennis on the unpredictable clay courts of the French Open.  Reading is trusting that when the man in the trick jacket - the author in her desk chair - says he will Cut You In Half for the pleasure of the audience, and ultimately himself, that he is in fact quite skilled at his craft. You hope that you will end up dazzled, charmed, bewildered, but not truly physically injured - unable to put yourself back together again.

Reading is, we must consider reading as, an act of pure magic.

Or how often do we forget the quantum physics of reading, how on the subparagraph level, under careful observation, one sentence can cripple the experiment. How the frequency of reading can increase understanding or pervert the course of connection. In reading, what we write down, what other perceive, what time does to the slant of a phrase, to the inflection on a word, to the very internal stability and length of time that text will last, are all unstable elements warring with each other, with the page itself, in a fight for dominance. What learning and information do to how language flows through us, flows through our mouths, through the synaptic connections we barely understand, and into air that is different every single moment, and over the tricky substance of time's flow... these my friends, are what we consistently forget.

Reading as a fundamental state of altered consciousness.

So when I say that I love reading in my essay, I make no ho hum space filler. What I wanted, tried to convey was the deeply spiritual connection I have to the written word. How a good book is my temple and there is serenity, salvation within. How the right series of words, or the right individual word, can freeze me in time, literally contradict the laws of this universe, to allow me my own bubble of perfect understanding, a unity that is ephemeral but whose impact is my life. That so many books have healed me - usually baptisms by fire, truth is not sweet - and filled spaces I did not know were there until I lifted the book and felt at ease. 

Reading as the serene experience of glancing into a dark, still pond of water, of unknown depth, from the comfort of a sturdy boat, hand trailing the water, summer skies full of sun. The summer breeze is not strong enough to ruffle pages to distraction/frustration of course.

I do not besmirch the oral tradition from which I have most certainly sprung. But there is something to the creamy, slippery texture of the page, the minuscule dimples, the uneven quality of most paper.  The places where the printer's ink failed, left off half of a word, top or side, or maybe just the dot on an i, reminding you that each book is in fact individual, and must be made page by individual page - "one million in print" be damned!  

There is a sensation that sinks into a book you've had a long, long time, like it has absorbed some of you into the crinkled/wrinkled edges, brown from turning pages.  A profound connection in the tea stains, and corners worn soft - so often used to absentmindedly clean under fingernails.  Something within the gesture of filling hundreds of pages with the attempt to tell a story, share a bit of consciousness - however faulty the execution may/might end up - and in your own attempt, in reading, to understand that story and, by extension, the impulse to inscribe it in just this way. There is fascination in language/books' execution, ingestion, processing, integration...

These, yes these are the things which we must: remember, savor, repeat.