Earth Girls Are Easy
Last night a loc'ed, Brown, Sarah Lawrence undergrad, huffed some B.S. to the incredible "Executive Decisions: 30 Years of Powerful Women in Hip Hop" panelists 'bout going back to hip hop's "golden days" and equated this regression with "womanist" values. While futura Negroes like Andre, Kanye, Pharrell, and Sa-Ra talking 'bout spaceships silly incense burning baby negresses talkin' bout backward time travel. I can't say I'm surprised. As a vegetarian, environmentalist, and Black feminist who camps, globe trots and has a hemp bag or two --I got rid of the Mephisto's when I found out the homies was calling them "J*lyl*h's Jesus sandals" behind my back but I might get a new turquoise pair this year though-- I wear a press with pride just to differentiate myself with carbon copy chicks like last night's earth girl. No wonder so-called conscious rappers have renounced these women and their back-packed stick-chewing bred'ren.
I'm sick of self-righteous, nappy headed, broads sporting ill-fitting identities pilfered from Alice Walker, India Arie and other notable Black bohos. I'm sick of the bullsh#t cascading down from their black soap boxes. I'm sick of their castigation of the mainstream as they traverse its tributary in a school of undifferentiated fish.
Rhetoric about exceptional Black difference reifies simple stereotypes of Black homogeneity, of unchanging same, of primitive folk authenticity, of chicken grease stained bibs, and collard green regularity. I respect the process. I understand that many folk try on a host of identities before they become comfortable in their own skin. I understand that finding a home in your fleshy frame requires a personal acknowledgment of your exceptionality, that of the burgundy highlighted Baby Phat spokesmodel strolling through Fulton mall, and the stiletto'ed corporate exec. yoked to her blackberry. You are no better or no worse. You are no more f*cking profound or insightful. All this is to say that you (anonymous black boho) are presently extraordinary and pure potential like every other being on the planet. By towing the afro beat party line you not only annoy the hell out of me but you inhibit your own spectacular Blackness and undermine your own hallowed humanity.
I'm sick of self-righteous, nappy headed, broads sporting ill-fitting identities pilfered from Alice Walker, India Arie and other notable Black bohos. I'm sick of the bullsh#t cascading down from their black soap boxes. I'm sick of their castigation of the mainstream as they traverse its tributary in a school of undifferentiated fish.
Rhetoric about exceptional Black difference reifies simple stereotypes of Black homogeneity, of unchanging same, of primitive folk authenticity, of chicken grease stained bibs, and collard green regularity. I respect the process. I understand that many folk try on a host of identities before they become comfortable in their own skin. I understand that finding a home in your fleshy frame requires a personal acknowledgment of your exceptionality, that of the burgundy highlighted Baby Phat spokesmodel strolling through Fulton mall, and the stiletto'ed corporate exec. yoked to her blackberry. You are no better or no worse. You are no more f*cking profound or insightful. All this is to say that you (anonymous black boho) are presently extraordinary and pure potential like every other being on the planet. By towing the afro beat party line you not only annoy the hell out of me but you inhibit your own spectacular Blackness and undermine your own hallowed humanity.
*Respect to curator/producer Jason King. Honestly the best Women in Hip Hop panel I've attended (and I have attended a lot).
saith جليلة on 11.4.06
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