Scribblings with Green Chalk

What do these terms mean to you? How do you define the difference? Which one do you choose?

While on a theoretical level I do know sources I could quote here, I would like to learn more about the choice of term from those who make the choice. I will be very grateful for contributions.

The project isn’t gone, but I had a lot of doubts about posting and halted that part. I’ve thought about the pros and cons of putting up posts and questions vs. just writing the thesis on found and idiosyncratically compiled blog entries. I haven’t resolved it yet.

Meanwhile, in blogland, a post appeared mentioning Sara Baartman. I recommend Janell Hobson’s Venus in the Dark if you’re interested in the making (and unmaking) of the Hottentot Venus. You will want to sink under ground, reading about the brainlessness of European “science” in the 19th century. The anti-logic of racism never ceases to surprise: while “theorizing” the black female body shape as illness (steatopygia–because it sounds smart if you invent a word), Europeans found it a titillating fashion inspiration. The bustle, a scaffolding-like device inserted underneath ladies’ dresses, compensated for the flatness of the–supposedly ideal–European derriere. The pornographic interest showed by visitors to the exhibitions where Bartman was displayed (much like an inanimate object) is quite terrifying even to read about. Interestingly, the perception of how acceptable this kind of interest was did differ: a sketch reprinted in Hobson’s book shows that some of the contemporaries considered it outright morbid that “gentlemen” and “ladies” alike would scrutinize the details of someone’s anatomy under the pretence of scientific interest.

Patricia Hill Collins’ thoughts on the easiness of objectifying others (Others) shed some light on what happened then and what keeps happening to Baartman. Even today, despite of best endeavors, many academics researching Baartman end up presenting her as a non-person, Collins observes. Pretty slideshows begging for the use of pictures and pointers can turn an informed discussion of the body into a freak show in which again we watch it as a curious object, as if it didn’t belong to a human being. Read more in the sections of Black Feminist Thought devoted to Baartman and pornography.

More arguments for my developing conflict with the idea of the Muse.

With question 2, I’d like to look at Black feminist bloggers as a community sharing aims and ideas. I wrote earlier about the blog persona. This is not a “sub-section” or addendum to that post. I would like to use the ideas I outlined there to ask about the online Black feminist community and its culture.

In The Signifying Monkey, Henry Louis Gates, Jr. writes about the myths informing the literature of the African diaspora. Can we talk about a reservoir of concepts and stories shaping and binding Black feminists’ online spaces?

Do Black feminists and womanists see themselves as tricksters, offering subversive knowledge, criticism from an epistemologically privileged (important) perspective? Is that a mission or an ethical perspective shared among them/you?

There are several academic Black feminists and womanists who do not necessarily take the tone of instruction, but inscribe the question of knowledge and the search for it very visibly into their blogging objectives. Referring to the academia is not just a statement of interests but a speaking position, it seems to me, one presupposing a principled interaction, sometimes also applying a hierarchy, though the particular rules are up to the blogger.

The Angry Black Woman does not rely so much on the teacher persona but on the strength encoded in a stereotype she uses to her advantage on the blog. She best describes it herself:

A couple of years ago during a discussion of confrontations and how people handle them, I advised a friend that he needed an Angry Black Woman to resolve his conflicts for him. After all, Angry Black Women have advantages certain others don’t.

Firstly, ABWs are angry. Anger won’t solve most of the world’s problems, but it will get people who play at being aggressive and dominant to back down quickly. Second, ABWs are black. And we know that most white people are scared of black people. Third, ABWs are women. So, if the person you’re in conflict is a man, isn’t backing down from the anger, and doesn’t flinch at going toe to toe with a black person, being a woman is really useful. He can’t hit you, you’re a woman. If he does, he’s an abuser. If he calls the police on you, they’ll exclaim “You’re frightened of a woman? Grow a set of balls and leave us alone!” Thus, Angry Black Women have the advantage in almost all conflict situations.

(Read more here.)

Mnemosyne makes use of the figure of the Greek titaness, the embodiment of memory who gave birth to the Muses (and thus comes before them), to mark her blog’s non-literary orientation and her focus on “what i and other marginalized people have to say, than how we say it.”

There are, of course, many other ways of self-representation. One of them is focusing on the content and objectives of the blog rather than self-characterization. Ann of Beautiful, Also, Are the Souls of My Black Sisters provides a mission statement on the “About” page without any self-description. Aulelia, a young African journalist in the UK, doesn’t use a mythic persona, but instead outlines her background, her beliefs, presents her artwork and photographs of herself.

The imagery and avatars that appear on the blogs are an important aspect of the personae. Photographs place the writer as a person of flesh and blood and in almost tangible surroundings (there is a suspension of disbelief, no one reacts automatically suspecting inauthenticity). Do illustrations then suggest detachment or increased distance between blogger and reader? What to make of them?

I am not going to try to bring the above observations together. I’m asking here about common threads and would like to hear some ideas on that. Feedback will be greatly appreciated.

At first glance this question might seem slightly awkward. But I find it crucial to ask about perpective and forms of engagement before going on to explore particular issues connected with the black feminist experience.

From its inception, black feminism was by Black women for Black women and the benefit of the Black community as a whole. The communal aspect cannot be undermined, since black feminism has been primarily concerned with praxis: no theorizing without activism.

This much is clear. Yet since its orientation is not solely towards the female individual but the community — of women and women within a larger community — what if we asked about its possible benefits for the society at large?

The black feminist standpoint is exceptional in that it grasps multiple levels of oppression: it’s articulated at the intersection of race and gender, and as such it reveals the ways in which systems of oppression and exclusion conflate. Although in everyday existence this position signifies deprivation and invisibility within dominant discourse, in the light of standpoint theory, it makes for deep insight. Coming from the very bottom of the power hierarchy, the black feminist standpoint is cognizant of the mechanisms and ideologies that more privileged standpoints would either not notice or consider neutral.

It’s knowledge.

The pursuit of knowledge is one of the great human desires.

And — I’m thinking out loud here — this kind of knowledge appears exceptional in that it provides a chance to sever the cords between knowledge and power. It’s not about inventing the wheel or, more accurately, inventing systems of control, but about understanding. Understanding has been increasingly undervalued, since it does not have momentum, does not lead to expansion. Or has understanding never really been valued?… And yet, as I stated above, people desire knowledge, if only for the sake of satisfying desire.

Since standpoints are not inherent qualities, it makes sense to believe that one can access them without being part of the original group, with additional effort, perhaps. Yet how to do that without making it seem like an attempt to steal, and change ideas?

First of all, how to listen and hear? There is no “neutral starting point” for a dialog with a position we do not know enough about. All such attempts fail and, what is worse, lead to more misunderstandings. I found two posts at Beautiful, Also, Are the Souls of My Black Sisters that clearly illustrate this. In “What Can the White Woman Say to the Black Woman?,” the writer, Ann, warns about disregarding history. Irrational fears of “reverse racism” often preclude necessary openness, without which participating in the project of black feminism is not possible. This leads to isolation and separatism. And while separatism has its advantages, it rarely leads to sharing knowledge and spreading tolerance.

As Patricia Hill Collins warns (critiquing Hazel V. Carby):

Exclusionary definitions of Black feminism which confine ‘black feminist criticism to black women critics of black women artists depicting black women’ (Carby 1987, 9) are inadequate because they are inherently separatist. Instead, the connections here aim for autonomy. (Black Feminist Thought 32-33)

Arguing for autonomy instead of isolation, Collins opens up the possibility for outsiders to be part of the discussion. The question remains: How?

Another one of Ann’s posts, “Shut the Fuck Up,” mentions attempts at placating Black women without asking about the reasons of their anger and discontent. Treating women like children is, of course, nothing new but always a suicidal shot if what one wants is insight and knowledge. The answer is, as Ann points out, to shut up. Not to step in with “but’s” and “however’s” before you’ve heard the argument and thought it over. My next question is where to go from there.

If your objective is to learn and use the knowledge in your experience and, furthermore, to engage with the perspective (which is what I personally want), how do you find your place within the larger project? Which, in the end, boils down to the question: who can become a black feminist?

Those who follow my scribblings on a more or less regular basis (thank you for that), probably noticed that I put up a new page. I want to add to the random ramblings a thread about the idea which, I hope, becomes in the end a good thesis.

From now on some of the posts will be concerned with questions about black feminism, the black feminist standpoint, and the different forms of activism (with emphasis on blogging and internet initiatives).

Please feel free to contribute to the discussion, irrespective of your sex, skin color, nationality, if you are interested in and supportive of black feminism. Misanthropic comments are not welcome.