What about the “dark girls” who… (another response)

promo image for "Dark Girls"

There’s been a lot of discussion lately about the release of the documentary preview, “Dark Girls,” directed by Bill Duke and Channsin Berry (which you can view below). Whether people are enraged or awakened by the material, it’s sparked a definite chord in folks across the country. I was even moved to write a poem partly inspired by some of its themes, specifically around Eurocentric beauty standards (see previous post). The preview definitely stirred my emotions and resonated with me as a black woman who has experienced, learned, and/or witnessed this type of self-hatred in my life and community. However, after an earlier phone call with my older sister, where she posed some alternative ways to frame the discussion, I’m reconsidering my initial reactions to the directors’ focus and choice of content.

Put simply, what about the “dark girls” who were raised to love their brown skin, who were confident, and never viewed their skin color as a mistake? What about the “dark girls” raised in households where their parents/ family members praised their intelligence and beauty?  What about the darker-skinned women who were ridiculed but say that it didn’t affect their total self-conception? I know some of them. They do exist, and they seem to be all but erased from this documentary preview. This lack of inclusion caused to me wonder about the concerns of documentary filmmaking- the intentional and not-so intentional slant that directors have when conceiving of ideas that they deem compelling or powerful. What would happen if alternative perspectives were included in this preview? How would that complicate this very complex narrative on skin color? How does having two black men direct a documentary about black women’s skin color affect the narrative, if it does at all? These are questions I consider regularly as  narrative and documentary filmmaker. When I think of privileging a certain perspective over another, I must consider what that will do to the story I’m trying to tell and how audiences will react to that decision.

I’m in no way lessening the gravity of this skin-color caste system within the black community, and globally. Through out my life, I’ve seen the debilitating ramifications of its existence, and I’ve always been a proponent for trying to break it down and analyze its function as a force of division, pseudo-importance, and over-enforced Eurocentricity. I cannot say that I’ve experienced what the women in this preview have, but I’ve felt the sting in my chest when my friends and family members have. I’ve experienced the incessant pressure from media, classmates, and teen crushes to have long hair, to claim that I was “half Indian,” to embrace “light skin” as if it were some kind of exalted honor.  So my intent here is never to devalue the impact of these ingrained ideologies that affect black and brown people across the world, but to question how this preview would function if the total complexity of this issue was explored.

There is a part in the documentary where interviewees talk about black men not seeking out long-term relationships with them because they’re darker skinned. In my experience, I’ve seen some black men seek out women with this as one of the main reasons they’re attracted to the woman; because she has dark skin. Both motivations can be problematic and should be examined, but this is just an alternative consideration. There’s also no discussion of how other elements of self-esteem and socialization affect the way young girls react to these beliefs. My older sister mentioned her friend, who despite having the treasured long hair and light skin, was extremely insecure and unhappy with herself. Her thoughts had less to do with her skin color and more to do with her family influence and emotional health, which can also be applied to dark skinned girls brought up in supportive, loving homes who feel good about themselves.

By leaving out the varied voices of dark-skinned women and black community members, we’re not able to feel any other way but mad, angry, enraged, saddened, and hopefully ready to change this discourse. But there are parts of this narrative that can ignite hope, relief, and maybe even some humor.  Again, it all goes back to the directors’ intentions and their “slant,” which is something I’m so fascinated with as a filmmaker. I once took a documentary filmmaking class at Howard University where we discussed the choices made by filmmakers, which renders how their act of “documenting” is interpreted. If the director’s intention was to move people to the point of dialogue and change, hopefully the piece works in that direction, but how would presenting a multifaceted perspective help to enliven, evoke or distill that dialogue?

21 years after (past shoulders) – a response

I wrote this:

 

21 years after we learned

that nappy hair didn’t make you pretty

and the boys didn’t like it either,

someone is still pulling my coarse strands

to see how long it is

 

brown girls learn to love flat irons

that kill coils

brown women behind me in the mirror

tugging at my stubborn kink

to see if it’ll flow past my shoulder

 

4 years after my best friend

bent her face in pain and said sadly,

I look like an African

she’s behind me in the mirror,

pulling pieces of my hair

to see if it flows past the shoulder

seeing if it hangs there,

but it doesn’t, just curls back and

bounces out of her fingers

wanting freedom

 

brown women in the mirror,

wishing for hair past shoulders

pulling mine to comparison

hating the African that’ll always scream through

their faces

cuz the boys didn’t want the bald headed girls

and mine gives her a mission

to get longer

 

-Nijla Mu’min

© 2011

Partly, in response to this:

 

writerly ramblings… privilege and text

Hey folks. Long time, no post. I’ve been extremely overwhelmed this semester to say the least. This is my first semester as an MFA Writing student, as I’ve begun a dual degree/interschool program in Film Directing and Writing. It’s been hectic, but fruitful.

One of the things I’ve noticed thus far is this incessant need by some students to have writers of color point out and expose the social ills and injustices that exist within the world they are writing from. In class, Jhumpa Lahiri’s work was cited as being a “fairy tale” and presenting things safely for an American audience because it did not outwardly question the dynamics of the Indian society she was writing from. My question is what’s wrong with that? What’s wrong with every writer of color not being lumped into some kind of cultural representative category? Lahiri’s work was packed with subtle details and irony, all strong in their ability to contextualize the society of the characters. So, why can’t that be enough? Why is she not allowed to write character-driven stories that aren’t overt social dissections when the same white critics who demand this, don’t do this in their own writing? I’ve yet to read a story in the class where a white writer attempts to deconstruct whiteness, privilege, and their relationship to social injustice in their fiction. Stories regularly feature themes of sexism, abuse, privilege, addiction, and class imbalance, but those elements seem to remain unquestioned when tied to white characters. However, when a writer of color pens a story where those elements are present in the text, the conversation is about these “issues” and how the writer needs to tackle them, and not about the story and characters in it.

My point is that work seems to be evaluated from a very privileged lens. I can’t stand sitting in class listening to mostly white students and faculty voice their concerns about the women in India who get burned for having sex, but fail to look at the very injustices happening RIGHT here in their own country- young girls being gang-raped and blamed for it, a black student being “auctioned” off in class by a white teacher, a Mexican child and her father brutally murdered by hateful vigilantes, as she begged for her life. Writers of color are expected to bear the brunt of social and cultural ills, while whites are the mere observers of it and not involved. If there is to be a conversation about how to confront these “issues” in writing, it cannot be one-sided. I want my writing to be read with the same character investment as another student’s, and not disregarded because I didn’t expose the ills of urban America in a way that satisfied my white classmate, who never thought or took the time to examine their role in perpetuating these very ills.

 

Can we just live?

the “black woman” script

 

can you see me? am i there?!

A recent spate of disheartening events have prompted me to write tonight. One in particular stands out. I recently had a dispute with my school’s campus safety department regarding an erroneous ticketing procedure. When I attempted to resolve the matter, I was told by a mediating third party that the individuals I interacted with expressed that I was “very aggressive, rude, and hostile” when I approached them about the issue. They were thus resistant to resolve the matter. I was then told that I should go back to those same people and attempt to “prove” to them that I’m “polite” and willing to work to resolve the issue. Now I’ve had numerous experiences with people’s racist attitudes in my life, but this is one of the most ludicrous, and also amusing.

Not only is it insane that I would walk into someone’s office yelling and being hostile, it is also beyond me that I would later be encouraged to “prove” to them that I am a polite person based on their own false image of who I am. This is not the first time I’ve been unwillingly placed into a robotic, “black woman” body and expected to be some type of caricature that approaches complete strangers by being aggressive and loud. This “black woman” script is an all too common model for folks uncomfortable with the idea of intelligent black people, or black women in this instance. To make up complete untruths and fabrications about my character would be the way they justify their own negligence and ignorance.

I’ve had people snap their fingers and wind their necks when talking to me, expecting that I would return a Maury Povich- produced black woman- response, and be okay with that. I’ve seen those same people conduct “civil” conversations with white women and others. I recently read an article by Helena Andrews on TheRoot.com called “Are Black Women Invisible?” Studies were conducted for the Journal of Experimental Social Psychology on the social invisibility of black women, and the  conversations participants had with them.  According to the article, “The study’s participants were given a list of comments spoken during the conversation and were asked to match them to their speaker. Participants either mixed up the comments made by black women (suggesting that black women are interchangeable) or attributed the comments to another race or gender entirely.”

In my case, my true character was made invisible in the scope of the interaction I had with these people. It was colored in with a stock- character stereotype that movies, reality shows, and advertisements blast into society everyday. Whatever input I had or expressed was invalidated due to their belief in the “script” they wrote for me before I even had a chance to speak. Though my situation is limited to a campus dispute, this experience is somewhat universal and echoes larger issues related to people’s inability to decipher between stereotype, ignorance and what’s there in front of them. A black woman who who responds intelligently, unflinchingly and without fear is not a “loud, rude” black woman. And even if they choose to raise their voice, stereotypes should not be attached to them.  However, everyday black women become this, not by their actions but by someone else’s cognitive limitations in seeing them as a true, breathing person with a life, and not a carbon copy robot caricature.

For further reading:

http://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/the-social-thinker/201012/are-black-women-invisible

http://www.theroot.com/views/singleminded-being-invisible-woman

Afro-Beat and Artistic Appropriation

I’m BACK! In the last months I’ve been SUPER BUSY- getting settled into my new life as a graduate student at Calarts, testing out the LA terrain, and plotting my take-over. get ready.

I’ve seen a lot of things since I began graduate studies here. I’ve met alot of great people and am in awe of the boundless student talent and vision that surrounds me everyday. But I couldn’t help but address something that was plastered all over the walls of my school when I walked to class one day:

Afro Beat???

No, this is not the flyer for the Annual Halloween party. This is the flyer for the Afro Beat band at my school. Yea, you heard it right. AFRO-BEAT. The musical movement born out of Fela Kuti’s activism and outright opposition to government corruption, coercion, and injustice in Nigeria and abroad. This flyer and many others like it, depicted numerous white people in afro-wigs, with splotches of black paint on their bodies, and holding jars of salsa. Call me uptight but I’m not sure how anything in these flyers relates to Afro-Beat.

This is something that I’ve been seeing more and more lately. Art forms with inherent cultural, political meanings have become fodder; emptied of their substance and existing importance for white people to feel some sort of worth or fun while participating in them.

These flyers demonstrate an extreme void on the behalf of the students who created them. A void in understanding the art form they claim to be a part of. Afro-Beat was never about making a mockery of black people or dressing up in afro-wigs. It was, and still is, a call to arms, a 20-minute protest-song by Fela Kuti where he admonishes the neo-colonial corruption in Nigeria and the world, it’s a passionate chant of pride, and a complex fusion of congas, saxophones, Yoruba influences, jazz, and highlife. Its conception came as a result of Fela’s immersion in the teachings of Malcolm X and the Black Power Movement. So, how if these students claim to play in an “afro-beat” band, would they EVER create a flyer such as this? It’s really beyond me. I’m not against different races of people participating in cultural art forms, but why not approach them with respect. Why not research their socio-political foundations and not merely assume they exist as a pastime for contemporary interests. Seeing flyers like this shows there’s no real acknowledgment of this, but rather an offensive artistic appropriation of sorts.

Afro-Beat was never art created for arts sake. It was always art created for the sake of the people, the uncovering of injustice, and against all dominant powers. When people approach this music from a limited, “artsy” perspective, thinking they are just playing a musical genre and not continuing a legacy, posters like this get created and posted around an entire school. At some point, one has to understand that art doesn’t exist in a vacuum and is many times connected to the struggles of people all over the world, especially in the case of people of color. It is my belief that the artistic practices of students at my school will be heightened when this is understood.

The fates of our daughters: on cameras and caring

Maia Campbell (middle) on the set of "In the House"

Hey folks. I have alot on my mind as I initiate yet another cross- country move tomorrow. This time, I’ll be heading to LA (with a pit-stop in NC) for graduate school in the fall. Aside from that, my mind is in a bit of a clutter after seeing two equally disturbing videos of young black women who are daughters of well known figures. Maia Campbell, daughter of noted author Bebe Moore Campbell (RIP), and Montana Fishburne, daughter of noted actor Laurence Fishburne. Both have been catapulted into the blogosphere spotlight for “funny,” “crackhead” behavior that seems to reflect deeper issues.

Maia Campbell, who you may remember as Tiffany on the UPN TV show “In the House,” caused controversy when she was videotaped in a man’s car rambling, ranting, appearing incoherent, messy, and seemingly intoxicated and/or drug-induced. Montana Fishburne has recently launched a porn career in order to make her way in the entertainment business, follow in the footsteps of Kim Kardashian, and become a “well-respected” actress. I’m not here to merely recycle myths and rumors about these woman, which is what many blogs and sites have been doing, and what I take serious issue with. Instead, I think the public reaction to these women and their conditions and behaviors reflect alot about the state of our society and culture at the present moment.

These days, everything seems to become a youtube, bossip, or huffington post video. People have seemingly traded in common sense, a need to intervene (in cases of extreme violence and abuse), or the act of caring about the well-being of another, in order to record what otherwise wouldn’t be. In many cases, these “guerilla” videos serve as proper checks and balances in society, especially in the case of law enforcement injustice (i.e. Oscar Grant) and other societal abuses. However, many times they are not intended to reveal or bring attention to something that needs to be stopped. In the case of the aforementioned women, they only help to instigate, inflame, and increase the volatility of such situations.

I read numerous blogs, websites, and “news” headlines likening Maia Campbell to a crackhead, a prostitute, and a junky. These “stories” all come complete with videos of her engaging in what clearly are manic episodes, indicative of someone suffering from a mental illness such as bipolar disorder. The people recording these videos of her can be heard laughing and having a grand time showcasing her mania. The latest video is particularly disturbing. In the case of Montana, we hear a male jovially ask her banal questions regarding her budding porn career.

I’m not going to do that here. On this blog, there will be no links to videos of these women for the sole reason to further humiliate them and turn their situations into comedy. There is nothing funny about capturing videos of bipolar young women who self-medicate with drugs, or young women who view their body as the sole way they can carve out an acting career. So instead of laughing and pushing “record” on a video camera, we should maybe try caring. Not just about these two women, though their stories warrant concern. It’s about understanding the deeper issues that Maia and Montana’s “videos” highlight in the black community, and in other communities as well. Many black people suffer from mental illnesses; conditions that go undiagnosed due to communal stigmas attached to treatment options, amidst a myriad of other factors. Maia Campbell is just one representative of the mental health crisis in this community. Many times these people are labeled as crackheads or crazy, when there are deep psychological scars stemming from genetics, economics, racism, and other personal factors. As in Maia’s case, drugs become the obvious choice of medication.

In the case of Montana Fishburne, many folks seem to be more invested in wondering where Laurence Fishburne went “wrong” as a father or if she “measures” up physically with Kim Kardashian, whom she wishes to emulate. But those concerns seem to ignore the crux of why her pursuing a porn career is a bit disturbing in the first place. After all, if she wanted to get into Hollywood that bad, she could probably call her father and arrange something. The bigger issue lies within more and more young women (not just Montana) viewing their bodies as their sole contributions to their careers as entertainers. All this is perpetuated and spurred on by an increasing age of sex-tape turned “stars,” tv housewives, jersey shore/ Real World sex shows, youtube video frenzy, and a bevy of other instant-gratification media outlets.

So my aim here is not to admonish people and their use of current technology, but to question how that technology and media is being used. Simply recording problematic and troubling content just for the sake of perpetuating ignorance and comedy, is not okay.  My mother recently emailed me a link to a video showing a pregnant black woman fighting four people in a Burger King parking lot in Oakland. I refused to watch due to the proliferation of videos like this. Instead of recording this, why not attempt to stop the fight where an innocent fetus could be harmed? Why not engage in a dialogue about how cameras can be used to uplift and not dehumanize. Why not start a dialogue about mental health, rather than laugh at someone who clearly needs help?  Why not care?

Peace.

Oscar Grant was a human being

Hey people. I’m not sure of what sentiments I can express that haven’t already been echoed by numerous people who are extremely dissatisfied and disgusted with Thursday’s verdict in the Oscar Grant case. So I’m just going to highlight something that has been apparent to me for some time now; something which I cannot hold back any longer. Oscar Grant was a human being. He was a son, a father, a friend, and a man. He was also black. We live in a society where this one cultural marker determines the entire value of one’s life. I always say that if you really want to know what American society at large is thinking, read their blog comments. Nowhere is the hatred and racism more evident than in many folk’s attempt to air extremely poisonous, demeaning views under the guise of online usernames. Here, in these comments and in many other media outlets, there is a terribly uneven balance given to the weight of this atrocity. Users pick apart everything from Grant’s appearance in photos, his black skull cap, and smile, to his very presence on the BART train that New Years night that “caused his own death.” Really? I always attempted to ignore these views but I cannot help that they funnel a deeper, more venomous message that runs rampant in this country. Many people’s lives are not valued. It is clear here. And those that are valued, seem to be for far more problematic reasons than not.

There is no reason that news coverage of Lebron James change in NBA teams should’ve overshadowed that of an unarmed black man who was shot in the back while his hands were behind his back. There is no rhyme or reason why people would flock to this coverage and not even know who Oscar Grant is. This lop-sided importance placed on black sports players as commodities continues to reign supreme.

There is also no reason that coverage of Michael Vick’s past dog-fighting ring should’ve garnered more hate and outrage than an innocent person being murdered. I recall seeing people crying on the news in the response to the maiming of those dogs. I also recall reading death threats on blog sites, that were addressed to Vick himself. But when a young black man is murdered while laying face down and unarmed, there is no such outrage. There is something SERIOUSLY wrong with this. And it is this stigmatization of the black existence and body that contributes widely to the air of indifference that exists currently. Not to mention, there is a possibility that Mehserle could get less time than Vick did for the dog fighting conviction. Mehserle murdered a PERSON, not a dog.

I am angry, as we all are, but this anger must be used to move forward and combat what’s ahead. In the memory of Oscar Grant, Latasha Harlins, a teenage black girl who was shot and killed in LA by a store owner for allegedly trying to steal soda in 1991, Amadou Diallo who was shot at 41 times in NYC and killed for reaching for his wallet, and the countless black women who’ve been murdered over the years by serial killers, but whose deaths haven’t garnered more than a single headline in the local news, I write. There are ways that communities can fight back against the constant hatred aimed at its human citizens. One way is by serving on juries. The fact that the Oscar Grant case was decided by a jury with not one black juror on it, and by jurors with several close ties to law enforcement is not a surprise, and sends a message that we must demand to take part in these proceedings. There are also numerous organizations that organize Cop watch activities where communities help police their neighborhoods in an attempt to decrease the presence of police aggression.

Ultimately, I can’t say that I expected a verdict any different than what was given. However, my logical, humane mind still can’t help but take issue with the erroneous nature of the ruling. I am enraged, but also expectant of this when it comes to the American legal system. This is a problem. I’m going to close this post not with words but with a photograph. I shot this while at the Oscar Grant Memorial rally in Oakland last January. The photograph shows Grant’s young daughter smiling into the camera. This photograph is all the evidence we need to know that lives should be valued and respected. This child should not have to grow up without a parent because a police officer made the decision that her’s father’s life didn’t matter.

Oscar Grant was a human being.

PEACE.

Oscar Grant's daughter, Tatiana

Single, lonely, and HAPPY: on being boxed in

feeling infinite

Hey folks!

It’s been awhile since my last post. I’ve been busy… making a movie, editing a movie, turning 25, preparing for another move and getting ready for school next fall, among other things. Alot has been on my mind lately, particularly the boxing in, packaging, or rigid categorization of women’s identities, especially that of black women. It is no coincidence that the recent influx of “single, lonely black women” TV specials, books, and movie deals coincides almost directly with the increasing, or continued need to place women’s lives and existences into small, air-tight boxes.

#iHateFemalesWho try to get pregnant for the financial benefits, that’s one of the LOWEST things a bitch could ever do !

#ihatefemaleswho are extra loud every where they go

#ihatefemaleswho get pissy drunk!!!

#ihatefemaleswho TWEET AB0UT H0W HAPPY THEY ARE BEiNG SiNGLE ; THEN TWEET AB0UT H0W L0NELY THEY ARE… #C0NFUSEDBiTCH GET iT T0GETHER…

#IHateFemalesWho grow up too fast..why are you 13 sleeping with a 26year old…why you have a baby at 14? why did you drop out of skool?

#ihatefemaleswho try to sleep with everyone….you don’t have to be a hoe. Not in the rule-book.

The preceding comments come from a twitter trending topic in which people from all over the world participated in verbally bashing “females.” Not women, ladies, or even girls, but females. For almost two days, users logged on and shared their hatred for these “females.” Though I never take these trending topics seriously, this particular one seemed to rest upon very problematic assumptions and ideologies of policing women’s existences. Most of the “hate” seemed to follow the strict lines of stereotypes that have been attached to black women and women of color for years: loud women, loose women, women who have sex with more than one man, women who have babies out of wedlock.

Well guess what? Some women like to have sex alot. Some don’t. Some women are incredibly intelligent and suffer from mental illness. Some women plant flowers and are mathematicians, but still have problems controlling their anger, and are working on it. Some women were sexually abused growing up which impacts their present relationships with their partners. Some women have drinking problems but raise children and run law firms. Some women don’t drink but love dancing and singing. Some women are single and lonely but lead wonderful lives.

I am one of these women. Not a female or a girl, but a woman. I am a part of a group of multi-faceted human beings who can not be confined to fit someone’s limited notions. Am I saying that the above-mentioned women (on twitter) don’t exist? No. They exist just as men who do the same things (but don’t get “hated” on twitter for it) exist, but the continual picture painted of black women seems too narrow to account for the nuances and varying degrees in personalities and psyches. What’s even more disheartening is seeing so many women buy into these rigid classifications without taking time to question them and celebrate the beautiful indentations of their identities. Growing up I was surrounded by this narrow framework- girls were either “fast” hoes or “good girls” who were “going somewhere in life.” But what about the in-between; the fast girls who were great in math or the good girls who were curious about sex and secretly hated school? In our need to categorize, an increased fear is perpetuated in girls and women to hide their true selves, keep silent, neglect the complexities of their lives, and what ultimately makes them human.

Once we start to conceive of one another in a fuller, richer light, dialogue and relationships between black women, men, teens, children, and elders can be strengthened, and we can begin to understand the influence of ideology, mass media, society on our self-conceptions.

And then we get to rapper Slim Thug’s recent comments about Black women not “cooking” and sticking by their man:

“Black women have to bow down and let it be known that they gotta start working hard; they gotta start cooking and being down for they man more… I have a brother that dates a White woman and he always be fucking with me about it saying, “Y’all gotta go through all that shit [but] my White woman is fine. She don’t give me no problems, she do whatever I say and y’all gotta do all that arguing and fighting and worry about all this other shit…My girl is Black and White. I guess the half White in her is where she still cooks and do all the shit that I say…”

What can I say that hasn’t already been said about Slim Thug’s statements? Not much. He is furthering a very binaristic construction of black women; that we don’t “take care of our man,” we don’t cook and take orders correctly, and we’re materialistic, while white women are the exact opposite- they cook, clean, are obedient and don’t care about being mistreated. It’s a very dangerous way to frame black womanhood, especially because it strengthens antebellum ideals of white women and womanhood as something pure, sacred, and clean while black, enslaved women were seen as deviant, dirty, impure, and disposable. For Slim Thug to carry this explosive ideology into the ears of his young fans who may happen to be black girls and boys, is completely irresponsible and destructive.

Ultimately, I’m sick of being sandwiched between the titles of “hoe” versus “housewife” because i don’t fit either, and most women don’t. Or what about the “woman who stands by her man” versus the “man-hating feminist?” Can I not speak up for the rights of women and people, be a feminist, argue a little, love, sing, write, and create without being put into the “angry black woman” club? Can I walk down the street without a man assuming that my sole purpose is to stop and talk to him? Can I be divine, emotionally astute, distinct, and still have issues and problems dealing with my emotions? Yes I can. We all can, and we deserve the right to be free in this world. To crush any and all boxes that someone may want to put us in.

My name is Nijla.

I have a problem with this… (things that make you go hmmm… pt 2)

Prince of Persia??

Jake Gylenhaal as the Prince of Persia. Really?? You mean to tell me that there were no talented Persian/Iranian actors to play this role? Hollywood Hmmm….

So Sandra Bullock has decided to reprise her role in The Blind Side, in real life. But this time she’s adopted a black baby from New Orleans who’s naked and adorned with “ethnic” beads in this image. WTF? This has got to be one of the most disturbing magazine covers I’ve ever seen. And to top it off, her ex-husband with whom she adopted this black child with, is said to hold white supremacist views. It’s time celebrities started to look at adopted children of color as people whose lives will be greatly impacted by the their decisions. They aren’t some People Magazine Hollywood trend.

Is it just me or is anyone else tired of seeing/hearing Jessica Simpson? This particular advertisement, (and this show’s premise) bothers me for several reasons. One being the placement of Jessica Simpson in the image. While the other women diminish in size and importance in the photo, she is dominant in the frame. Her presence reminds us not only that this is her show, but also that there is a prevailing Eurocentric scope through which to view these other women. And the show, while aiming to expose the “price of beauty” in different cultures fails to realize the imposed Eurocentric beauty standards at play in their framing of them.

Arizona Immigration Law

A contemporary, remixed Fugitive Slave Act of 1850 if you ask me, only this time it’s targeting another group of people who helped build this land and country. Hmmm.

Skip Gates blaming Africans for their role in the slave trade

And what does that really solve? Nothing. The fact remains that millions of Africans were displaced during the middle passage and forcibly transported into slavery. These United States profited largely from the free labor of black men, women, and children. Many of today’s largest corporations rest on a legacy of slave labor and capital. Attempting to assuage white guilt and promote ulterior corporate motives is not going to do away with the atrocities that happened here on America’s soil, at the hands of so-called Americans.

good night folks. see you next time.

The dilemma of a black female documentary photographer

Telegraph (c) Nijla Mumin

What happens when I decide to look? To not be looked at. What happens? Lately, I’ve considered putting my camera down. Leaving it in the drawer of things one leaves behind. The things that one outgrows. But I haven’t outgrown photography. Photography has outgrown me.

If I am to call myself a photographer, I am to call myself a documentary photographer. I get the most joy in photographing people I don’t know, or even the ones I do know in the most emotionally telling situations. Evaluating the light half cast on their face and eyes is like a dream. I am most comfortable with my 35mm film camera. No studio, models, and light kits can ever match the feeling I get when I frame and execute photography outside in natural light; when I document people and situations that tell stories words cannot. I am in love with this way of photographing. So why would I want to be put my camera away?

Lately, it has been extremely hard to be a black female documentary photographer. As if it wasn’t hard enough to be a black woman in the world, a black woman who takes pictures of the world and frames images of the world adds a larger dimension of difficulty that impedes my ability to create art. Recently, a male photographer colleague advised me to “take off my ‘lady’ hat and just shoot.” I nodded, because it sounded so simple coming off his lips. I wish it were simple to take off my “lady hat,” but it’s not. My gender and race mark me in any space I venture. In my neighborhood, I am whispered to, catcalled at, grunted at, and expected to respond to every male expression of attraction around me. I am uncomfortable almost 95% of the time I’m on the sidewalk. The times I do bring my camera, it ends of being suffocated in my purse for the whole day because instead of me wanting to spend time on the street documenting my people, I really just want to get away from them. I want to get away from men feeling like I’m obligated to speak to them, rub their egos, and respond to sexually charged comments and aggression. To stay that this doesn’t affect my ability to document, would be to lie to you.

I find my very presence as black female to impede my ability to “just shoot,” to just appreciate the beauty of my people. Because of the attention I am given on the street and in my community, a largely West Indian and black community, I am unable to document in the way that I want to. In the way that I was trained to do. In this sense, photography has outgrown me. I am unable to grow with my practice because that very practice is limited to discomfort and quick, rushed shots that take the enjoyment and excitement out of what I’m aiming to do.

I’ve begun to ponder taking alternative methods to my practice- asking certain people if I could photograph and follow them, or devoting time to a specific project or group of people. But I am always pulled back to that one image on the street that I miss out on capturing because I’m fearful that my photographing may draw dreaded, distinct attention to me. It has happened before, and I didn’t even have my camera.

I just want to shoot.