What does it mean to be Black? What sets apart our experiences? These are questions I grapple with as a young Black person growing up in America. I've come to realize that Blackness is bittersweet. A fundamental part of our experience is the pain and suffering that is intertwined in our history but also the joy that comes from that.
To begin the conversation on Blackness we must acknowledge the disparities in our experience. But because of this it also adds to the relatability in our community. Being black has always been a polarizing experience for me. No matter where I was I always felt like I stuck out like a sore thumb. Especially in Black communities. I used to see it as something that was unique to me. I would blame the fact that I grew up in predominantly white spaces or that I just wasn't the 'right' kind of Black person. The frustration and ultimately humiliation lead to me distancing myself from the community as a whole but as I've grown up and talked to Black people from all walks of life this was a very common thread. Why is that? Could it be as Black Americans it feels like we don't truly have a home? Ripped from our motherland and yet still not accepted in the place we've inhabited for the last 400 years. Whatever the reason, it's important to realize there isn't a singular Black experience but that only adds to the uniqueness of our culture.
When first coming into my newfound pride of being Black, I shed my shame and was hit with the pain and realization of our origin. Not that I wasn't aware of it before. But I am here today because my forefathers survived. While that's beautiful, I must sit with the reality of what that means. This leads me to the conclusion that Blackness is like lemonade. Without lemons what are you left with? Simply just sugary water. Looking at what is Blackness sugar water, I see our dance. Creativity expressed through hair and song. I see ornate nails and Grandma's in their Sunday best. The ingenuity found in the smile of a bored Black teen about to make the next viral trend. Blackness is what you bring to it. But with all the sweetness you have to accept and take the bitterness.
To begin the conversation on Blackness we must acknowledge the disparities in our experience. But because of this it also adds to the relatability in our community. Being black has always been a polarizing experience for me. No matter where I was I always felt like I stuck out like a sore thumb. Especially in Black communities. I used to see it as something that was unique to me. I would blame the fact that I grew up in predominantly white spaces or that I just wasn't the 'right' kind of Black person. The frustration and ultimately humiliation lead to me distancing myself from the community as a whole but as I've grown up and talked to Black people from all walks of life this was a very common thread. Why is that? Could it be as Black Americans it feels like we don't truly have a home? Ripped from our motherland and yet still not accepted in the place we've inhabited for the last 400 years. Whatever the reason, it's important to realize there isn't a singular Black experience but that only adds to the uniqueness of our culture.
When first coming into my newfound pride of being Black, I shed my shame and was hit with the pain and realization of our origin. Not that I wasn't aware of it before. But I am here today because my forefathers survived. While that's beautiful, I must sit with the reality of what that means. This leads me to the conclusion that Blackness is like lemonade. Without lemons what are you left with? Simply just sugary water. Looking at what is Blackness sugar water, I see our dance. Creativity expressed through hair and song. I see ornate nails and Grandma's in their Sunday best. The ingenuity found in the smile of a bored Black teen about to make the next viral trend. Blackness is what you bring to it. But with all the sweetness you have to accept and take the bitterness.
Blackness is the experiences found in-between the cracks of suffering and joy. | Blackness is a beautiful thing and it should be celebrated! The problem is when you want all sugar water with no lemons. When you want to wear box braids and use AAVE(African American Vernacular English) without recognizing that Black people are often demonized for doing the same thing. Too many times have I seen dreads be called dirty but are 'boho' and 'chic' on a white counterpart. While Black people are losing jobs and being reprimanded while white people are praised for their eccentricity. While I personally don't have a problem with a white person wearing dreads, for example, we must look at the disparity. |
A good example of this is Awkwafina in Crazy Rich Asians as well as her stage presence pre-2018 who puts on a Blaccent for comedic effect, but when you look at interviews suddenly it's nowhere to be found. This highlights a problem where non-Black people will wear our culture as a costume, only disrobing when they've reached the right amount of prestige.
This ties into the commodification of Black joy. Our affectations and mannerisms are often played out in media only for laughs. To someone that doesn't regularly participate in our community or break bread with my uncles and aunties, they seem absurd. So we have our new phrase or word of the week that then is over and misused until it's served its purpose. Discarded and without purpose, it'll be deemed out of touch to still be using it. But what about those who were using it before and will continue using it after? Instead of AAVE being taken seriously as a dialect it's instead begun to be chalked up to internet-speak.
So to answer the question: "what does it mean to be Black?" Blackness is the experiences found in-between the cracks of suffering and joy. The stories not birthed just from our trials but also our tribulations. Reveling in our past to create our future. But also being painfully aware of the marketability of fruits of our labor. To quote Amandla Stenberg, "What would America be like if we loved black people as much as we love black culture?"
This ties into the commodification of Black joy. Our affectations and mannerisms are often played out in media only for laughs. To someone that doesn't regularly participate in our community or break bread with my uncles and aunties, they seem absurd. So we have our new phrase or word of the week that then is over and misused until it's served its purpose. Discarded and without purpose, it'll be deemed out of touch to still be using it. But what about those who were using it before and will continue using it after? Instead of AAVE being taken seriously as a dialect it's instead begun to be chalked up to internet-speak.
So to answer the question: "what does it mean to be Black?" Blackness is the experiences found in-between the cracks of suffering and joy. The stories not birthed just from our trials but also our tribulations. Reveling in our past to create our future. But also being painfully aware of the marketability of fruits of our labor. To quote Amandla Stenberg, "What would America be like if we loved black people as much as we love black culture?"
Anais Nobles
Staff Member