My New Motto . . .

Last week, I caught a bit of a PBS program about the artist/quilter/writer Faith Ringgold. During the course of a discussion about the stereotyping of African American women, Ringold had the following to say . . .

"I don't want to argue about it, I just want to retell the story."

Hmm, I SO love the energy, spirit and simplicity of the statement, I think I'll adopt it as my own new motto (smile).

Parameters of Blackness (Part II: Electric Boogaloo)

Prior to the publication of After The Dance, I shared a portion of the manuscript with various friends and relatives. A comment from one of my cousins took me by surprise. According to her, the names of my primary protagonists--Carl & Faye, weren't "Black enough." My initial reaction was--"Huh? Say what! Come again."

Yeah, according to Cuz, I should have named my characters something along the lines of "Shauneequah" and "Jondavious." OKAY . . . Now, had the remark come from someone other than this particular cousin, perhaps I might have understood it.

To give you a bit of background, even though I'm a few years older than my cousin, we spent a fair amount of time together as kids. Our grandmothers are sisters and our families have always been close. Just like I did, my cousin grew up in a two-parent household. Her parents and mine left the hood a LONG time ago. Just like I do, my cousin lives in the suburbs and like me, is in a marriage that has lasted longer than 10 years, and like me is the mother of one child, a son.

No one in either of our immediate families has a name like Shauneequah or Jondavious. Not that there's anything wrong with either of these two names, I'm just saying--why would my cousin or anyone else feel justified in implying that I'm being something other than Black if I opt NOT to go the Shauneequah and Jondavious route? Are names like those somehow more authentically Black than names like Carl & Faye or Lori & Al or Wendy & Brian? (Yeah Cuz, what? You thought I wasn't gonna call you out?! LOL)

My cousin's son and my own are both African American youths who have excelled academically since Kindergarten. Does that fact somehow make them less authentically Black? As the Black mother of a Black son and as someone who writes stories about Black people, am I somehow obligated , for the sake of "keeping it real" to churn out portraits of African American boys who make failing grades and flunk out of school? Who only dream of being sports figures and hip-hop artists? Who only look up to pimps, drug dealers and gang bangers? If so, for whom am I keeping this real? And why?

I think, like a lot of people, be they Black, White or Other, my cousin has bought into the lucrative fiction of what Black is and what it ain't--a fiction that's currently being cut and repackaged before being sold back to us, like so many nickel and dime bags. A fiction created by the image and identity hustlers who've set up shop in the publishing world, the music industry, Hollywood and the like. They get paid well feeding us a steady diet of the same old, tired stereotypical images and even when we know better, some of us have allowed ourselves to get hooked. Yeah, we're buying it, ingesting it and eventually, like addicts, finding ourselves somewhere (whether it be at the bookstore, the movie theatre or in front of the television) straight sprung, fiending, frothing at the mouth and wanting to beat-down the first somebody who dares suggest, "You know, maybe all of that sh!t ain't good for you . . ."

In the December 2008 issue of The Writer, there is an article entitled, "On writing against ethnic stereotypes," which mainly focuses on the media's distorted and one-dimensional view of Italian Americans. The author of the piece, Paola Corso, states that stereotypes aren't necessairly bad when used purposefully and I tend to agree. I'd love to see more African American artists, musicians, writers, filmmakers, etc. attempting to flip the script by manipulating stereotypes via satire, parody and humor. I attempted to do some of that in my own debut novel. But these days, more often than not, the most serious offenders (pun fully intended) and eager perpetuators of some of the most vile, negative and derogatory things said about Black men and women are other Black men and women.

To be clear, I don't have an issue with names like Shauneequah and Jondavious. I have plenty of Shauns and Jons in my extended family and within my circle of friends, none of whom I consider more or less Black than my cousin or myself. My issue is with the mindset that suggests there is only one way of being authentically Black . . . an authenticity that is all too often narrowly defined and tied to a host of negative images and outright stereotypes.

You know, at some point I may write about a character named Shauneequah, but you'd best believe she won't live in the hood, have a crack habit, take licks upside the head from her gangbanging boyfriend, Jondavious, or work for a process-wearing pimp who dreams of being a rapper (smile). Nope, my Shauneequah will probably be an African American businesswoman who lives in Charleston, owns a seafood restaurant, a beachside home and a pilot's license. She'll probably be in a long-distance relationship with some well-to-do resort owner, a North African she met while vacationing in the south of France (I am so making this mess up off the top of my head, LOL). My Shauneequah will probably be in the process of legally adopting her deceased best friend's little girl, both of whom, the best friend and the little girl, just so happen to be White.

Yeah, I know, a story like that would never get published, at least, not by someone like me.

(If you're interested or you missed it--PARAMETERS OF BLACKNESS: PART I)

TODAY'S CULTURE OF CELEBRITY . . . AND ALL THAT CRAP . . .

"I've always thought there are two kinds of celebrities. There are people who really want to be celebrities. There are other people who want to be good at their craft. The ones who want to be famous are the ones who you hear about all the time. The ones who are studying and honing their craft have to do that out of the spotlight. You can't learn anything when you're out (in the spotlight) all the time."

Johnny Mathis (The Charlotte Observer, April 25, 2008)

Outside of the Old School Mix, I really didn't tell a lot of people about my recent television appearance. Make no mistake, I told those who didn't already know about the book (After The Dance) and shared with them all of the details about the two signings I had scheduled while in Memphis. But the TV and radio stuff, I left to others, like my proud hubby who called up just about everybody and their mama's (LOL).

Those who know me well understand that I'm fully content being in the background. I have no real desire to be in front of the somebody's camera or even behind somebody's mike (my dream of being a DJ fizzled a long time ago). I'm more than willing to step aside and leave the place on the stage marked as "the center of attention" to the more spotlight hungry.

Ain't it funny how those things you enjoy the least, often seem hell-bent on chasing you down? When I worked at the public library in Memphis, seemed like somebody was always sticking a camera in my face: on one occasion, I had to do an impromptu TV promo for the library's Magazines/Newspapers department and on another, I had to do a televised spot for an African American film festival I'd helped coordinate.

Shortly after my son learned that I was going to be on television, he struck up a loud chant of, "Mama's gonna be famous! Mama's gonna be famous!" Every couple of hours, he'd break into another round and finally I asked him, "Are you still gonna love Ole Moms even if she isn't famous?" Of course, being a good son, who loves regular meals, clean clothes and on-call chauffering, his answer was a resounding, "Yes!" (LOL)

I suppose, among other things, the point I'm trying to make is, I love writing and certainly, I love it all the more when folks find what I write entertaining and enjoybable. But I've never had a desire to be thought of as famous or a celebrity. I've never set as my goal "getting rich" from my work. Now, I would love to see some of my work on the big screen, but the satisfaction I would derive from doing so doesn't necessarily have a dollar sign or a certain number of zeroes attached to it. Sorry, if that disappoints, but I'm just simple like that (pun intended *smile*).

A lot of what I despise about today's arts scene (whether literary, theatrical, musical or otherwise) is the whole "15 minutes of fame" and "everybody's entitled or dang well oughta wanna be a star" notion. Bump that. Rather than doing some of everything (whether legal or illegal; moral or immoral; outrageous or just outright dumb) in order to draw attention to themselves, I really wish more folks (both artists and non-artists) would follow the advice shared in the quote above. Obviously, it's worked well for the 72-year-old crooner, known as Johnny Mathis. He's been in the game for fifty-two years and he's still going strong. Not only does he still perform, he can still draw a decent size crowd.

Think about some of today's more popular singers, writes, musicians, actors and the like. Who, among them, will still have a viable career, be in their right minds or even drawing a breath in the land of the living ten to fifteen years from now? Of course, nothing's promised and anyone of us could get hit by a bus tomorrow. Moreover, a lot of today's youngsters wouldn't know Johnny M. or likely be at all impressed by him, even if he turned up butt-naked on their favorite reality show, but I'm just saying . . .

QUOTES THAT MAKE YOU GO . . . HMMM . . .

I'm on the road and doing a lot of miscellaneous reading (Jet, Essence and the like). In the July 23rd issue of JET, I ran across several interesting quotes. The following has to do with a movie I've been thinking about seeing-- "Talk To Me." The movie is about an ex-con turned deejay and the program director who gives him a break. Even though the film has a lot going for it--including actors, Don Cheadle and Chiwetel Ejiofor as well as director Kasi Lemmons, the reviews I've read have been mixed. But the following comment made by the screenwriter Michael Grant really made me stop and think.

"What I found in telling their story was that there is a love shared between Black men that we almost never hear tell of. You won't find it defined in any text books or dictionaries, yet it exists."

I think, for the most part, what Mr. Grant said is true. And I'd love to see more movies deal with this topic. But right off hand, I can think of at least one other movie that did a fairly decent job of dealing with the love that exists been Black men who aren't biologically-related--"Boys In The Hood."

Have there been others? If you've seen the movie, do you agree or disagree with the screenwriter's statement?

NAACP & BONO . . . PROOF THAT IMAGE IS EVERYTHING . . .

I'm not a fan of award shows. Nor am I much of a celebrity buff. So, sitting down in front of the tube for 2-3 hours and watching a bunch of over-paid entertainers preen, gush and compliment one another, just doesn't do a heck of a lot for me.

The main reason I watched this year's NAACP IMAGE AWARDS was for the slim possibility that my friend, DWIGHT FRYER might win in the DEBUT AUTHOR category. Of course, unless I looked away and missed it, the LITERARY AWARDS weren't even mentioned in the live telecast. Of course, an ALREADY ESTABLISHED entertainer, an ACTOR by the the name of HILL HARPER (CSI) ended up winning the LITERARY AWARD FOR DEBUT AUTHOR. Of course.

I'm not even gonna ask or attempt to explore why these two "authors" were in the same category. I will say that even my 10-year-old realizes that fiction and non-fiction are two totally different beasts and that in our star-blinded society, a vitrual unknown stands little chance against a celebrity. Though to be fair, I've heard nothing but positive things about Mr. Harper and his book.

But getting back to the show, as it drew to a close, CHRIS TUCKER took the podium and started talking about BONO'S humanitarian efforts in Africa. I know who BONO is, but I can't say I'm all that familiar with his music. I'd dare say, I couldn't name one song he's written, performed or won an award for, if my life depended on it. As admirable as I think BONO'S work in Africa is, I almost changed the channel during his segment. I'm glad I didn't.

BONO'S acceptance speech was the show's highlight and elevated my respect for him as a fellow human being and a humanitarian. He talked about how ideas, like Martin L. King's commitment to "non-violence" travel and how impressed he was as youth living in Ireland with the sacrifices made by the participants of the Civil Rights movement in the United States.

Like a good, humble award recipient, BONO thanked the NAACP and gave the organization its props for the work it did back in the day . . . and then he shucked the formalities and straight PREACHED. The following are some of the more thought-provoking lines from his speech:

"True religion will not let us fall asleep in the comfort of our freedom."

"Love thy neighbor is not a piece of advice, it's a command."

"Where you live should not decide whether you live or whether you die."

"The poor are where God lives . . . God is with us if we are with them."

In keeping with the spirit of what BONO had to say, I think it might behoove the organizers of the NAACP IMAGE AWARDS to wake up and at some point revamp their show in order to include the outstanding deeds and accomplishments of some lesser known folks. I'm not saying, step away from the celebrity spotlight altogether, because certainly, folks like BONO, SOLEDAD O'BRIEN (CNN) and HILL HARPER deserve their due.

But can't some of that love be spread around and doled out to the little guy and gal every now and then? Or am I the only who who thinks the NAACP is in desperate need of an IMAGE MAKE-OVER? Of course, not that it really matters in the larger scheme of things.

The truth is, next year I probably won't even watch the IMAGE AWARDS. But what I do expect to do in the coming weeks is go out and add some BONO to my music collection.