Militant Monday: Perhaps I AM My Hair + 'Malcolm X'

Ok, I promise this won't become a blog where I document the progress of my hair semi-monthly. But after more than 15 years with relaxed hair (son, I don't even remember my first perm), I'm going natural. But first things, first. It's Militant Monday! Last night, I watched Spike Lee's Malcolm X for the first time in close to ten years. Actually, I watched 2 hours of it. I still have an hour and some change to go. While I watched, between putting up the black power fist and snapping soulfully, I was chatting with Lauren on BlackBerry Messenger. I relayed, to her shock and glee, my plans to possibly cut off all of my hair, rather than do the slower transition. 'No more of the white man's chemical fire cream on my natural born black scalp!' I typed, forcefully. And so on. While I've been feeling an urge for natural hair for a while, the restriction the conk has put on my workout routine is the main catalyst. I want to go swimming and not spend two hours fixing my hair every single time. I want to wash and go. I want to stop planning vacations and events around when I do my hair. The list goes on. And it really isn't about getting 'back to my roots' (whatever that means). I went to Howard, where going natural was a aesthetic choice, and there was no guarantee that the fine brotha with the locks had read even a line of Marcus Garvey's, or that the sista with the fly 'fro was as interested in revolution as she was in how fierce she looked on the Yard. In fact, if being au naturel isn't as great as I think it is, I reserve my right to go back to the fire cream. With that said, there's a pretty dope exchange between Malcolm while he's in prison and the brother that leads him to the Nation. He's putting more conk on his head, because on the outside "everybody does it," to which the brother -- who's a bit of a buzzkill, truth be told -- responds, "Why don't you want to look like what you are? What makes you ashamed of being black?" During that scene, I wrote to Lauren.

Shani-o: I'm gonna show up to work bald. Shani-o: and they're gonna be like, "What happened?!" Shani-o: and I'll be like, "I watched Malcolm X, white devil!" Lauren: LMFAO!! Shani-o: This movie is bad. Shani-o: Black people shouldn't be allowed to watch it. Lauren: LOL. No they shouldn't. Lauren: Or 'A Time To Kill.' Shani-o: Or 'Rosewood.'

And so on. One of the benefits of not getting to the last hour of 'Malcolm X' is that you miss the denouement, in which Malcolm makes the Hajj and unpacks his extremist, all-white-people-are-devils mentality and takes a more moderate approach. Well, that, and the assassination. I'm one of those people who hopes that the ending changes whenever I watch a sad movie (like, in 'Love Story,' I'm always surprised and heartbroken at the end). But anyway, skipping the end means you get to stay outraged. I'm sure I'll calm down once I watch the end. But for now, happy Militant Monday everybody!!

On Being a Modern Black Conservative, Part Two: The Issues

Noam Chomsky doesn't think conservatives exist. The majority of people who call themselves conservative (like our friends on Fox News) are really just reactionaries who are thinly-if-at-all-veiled homophobes, racists and demagogues. In defining my conservatism as I did yesterday, I started an exercise in self-exploration unlike one I've ever performed. You see, I'm not very good at explaining the myriad ideas running around in my head. In this attempt to put words on the screen, I'm taking the time to really think about who I am and what I believe in. Bear with me. The conservative response to modernity is to embrace it, but to embrace it critically. — Roger Scruton I did a Google search for conservative issues, because I don't generally think of my conservatism in terms of particular topics; it pervades everything. But I found a list of ten conservative issues, some of which I care about, some of which I don't, and switched in a couple that weren't there. Here we go. Illegal immigration I'm against illegal immigration, but come on, who isn't? The question isn't whether immigrants should come into this country illegally. The question is: what should be done with immigrants when they arrive? My problem isn't with immigrants, per se, it's with the problematic and varying treatment of immigrants from different countries. Haitians are turned away. Cubans are lauded with open arms. Mexicans are welcome just so long as they do the work other groups don't want to do (side note: why is there so much pride in that?). And all the while, we're ignoring the causes of these waves: poor education, health, or economic opportunity in the country of origin. The biggest two reasons I find illegal immigration to be a serious problem: 1) the disparities in the treatment of immigrants from different countries/regimes. My flip answer (said jokingly to my mother, who is an immigrant)? If all can't, then none will! 2) I don't like the idea of my tax money paying for the healthcare and education of people who aren't contributing to society-at-large — if they're doing jobs that other people don't want to do, for wages other people won't take, then they're only benefitting their employers. War on terrorism You can't fight terrorism. Did anyone see The Kingdom? It was uneven, and pretty much a shoot-em-up/blow-stuff-up flick, but it made a good point toward the end. Terrorism is ideology. Ideology (on both 'our' side and 'theirs') spreads from grandparent to grandchild, from cousin to cousin, from husband to wife, etc. I think it's a little ridiculous to claim we're in a war on terrorism, but at the same time, I think eschewing the war doesn't make one a liberal. It makes one rational. Federal spending This is probably where I'm the most 'liberal leaning.' Government spending works. While I don't particularly enjoy illegal immigrants benefiting from my tax money, any U.S. citizen is welcome to it. We share and share alike. It is the job of the government to protect and serve it's citizens; spending money on healthcare, education, public safety are all important, and will benefit all of us in the long run. Gay rights This is probably where I'm most conservative. Not in the way you think, however. I think sexual preference is a shaded gradient, and is informed by not only attraction, but also religion, values, and personal experience. I'm not going to tell you exactly where I fall on the Kinsey scale, but I will say that sexuality isn't always one thing or another. While I think I understand whence legitimately-labeled 'homophobic attitudes' arise ('legitimately-labeled' is meant to describe those people who are correctly noted as having an irrational fear of or aversion to homosexuals), I find them deplorable and unfortunate. At the same time, I take issue with those who use the term 'homophobic' in the same manner as those who use the term 'racist' too frequently. An interesting study of the construct of homophobia concluded that sometimes, the term is used to "pass implicit or explicit pejorative evaluations of individuals holding certain open and debatable value positions." And that's the key phrase: open and debatable value positions. As a person who believes in the male-female, two-parent home, I have questions about a child being raised by people in a same-sex union. In particular, I have questions about the ability of two men, or two women, to provide an adequate balance of masculine and feminine influence that so many children — particularly black children — lack today. While I don't support laws which strip individuals of rights (which is actually pretty conservative of me), I am not 100 percent comfortable with gay adoption. Abortion I would never judge a woman who chose to have an abortion. I've known a few, and not one of them has rushed off to the clinic with glee in their hearts and a spring in their step. To this day, years later, they consider what life could have been, and what it isn't. I also haven't met a woman who truly regretted it. I feel unfit to judge or decide for anyone whether or not abortion is acceptable. But something in me is really unhappy at the abortion rate in the black community. I suppose this is a liberal leaning. As Robert Frost said: "A liberal is a man too broadminded to take his own side in a quarrel." ____ To come: what does it matter?

On Being a Modern Black Conservative, Part One: Definition

I suppose this was a long time in coming. In the last couple of years (since I changed my political leaning on Facebook to 'conservative') I've fielded innumerable questions about my so-called conservatism. Some people genuinely thought I was confused, for, how could a young black person, a Howard grad at that, be conservative?? I do not think that word means what you think it means. - Inigo Montoya To start, I ought to define what I mean by modern conservative. Or, to add another layer of confusion, a modern black conservative. In my opinion, there are two ways to define something. Way one being, by taking a look at it's etymology and historic usage; way two being what it means to you and the people you know. For example: the term "probate show" when used in the Black Greek community, has two meanings. In the past, a probate show was (and sometimes, but very rarely, still is) a performance featuring the pledges of the fraternity or sorority, prior to their initiation. Today, the term is most often used to describe what is properly called a "new member presentation show," or a performance revealing those who have already been initiated. I've seen many an argument over whether one should use the term 'probate' vs 'new member presentation,' with the debate usually dissolving into the following: it means what most people think it means. Today, "probate show" = "new member presentation" in most circles, and even those who don't equivocate the two know what you mean when you say one or the other. When I say "modern conservative," I don't mean what the term has come to mean in recent years. I'm no Ann Coulter, no Stanley Crouch, no Rush Limbaugh. When I say "modern conservative," I mean to say that I am a person who considers herself to be conservative, yet aware of issues facing those of us living in the present. I don't think we can go back to the halcyon days of old, nor should we. In fact, I don't think those halcyon days were all that great to begin with. But I also think that while we rocket forward in technology and ideology, we're losing ground in pedagogy. Or, more importantly, we're losing sight of why things are the way they are. We can do so much, but just because we can, should we? I call myself conservative because I think the thing lacking most is restraint. And I seem to have it in spades these days (more than I need, probably). When I add "black" to that phrase, I complete the layer cake (vanilla, chocolate, and strawberry, in case you were wondering) that makes up my value system. I'm deeply in love with black people. I think we're awesome, for reasons that number in the dozens, if not hundreds. I once told someone that, if you break down Hillary Clinton's take on the issues vs. Barack Obama's ... well, my support of the latter has more to do with my love of black people than anything else. This of course, was prior to The Speech, at which point, I realized that we had before us a man who had a nuanced, thoughtful view of the race question. You see, I don't support Barack because he's black — if that were all it took, I would have backed Al Sharpton in 2004. But Barack's blackness, his understanding of blackness, his conservatism (and yes, Barack Obama is a black conservative if I've ever seen one) all speak to me. But loving blackness doesn't preclude loving others. And this, this is the biggest problem I see today, particularly amongst liberals (but more on that later); preferring one thing, expressing appreciation for it, desiring it, believing in it, does not mean you do (or must) eschew other things. My love of blackness does not equal a hatred of whiteness, a disgust of Asianness, a revulsion of Latinoness. Modern black conservative. Modern, because I don't long for some golden age of goodness. Black, because that's what I am, and what I love. Conservative, because my beliefs ultimately come back to a simple phrase: 'just because you can doesn't mean you should.' ___ To come: just what exactly is shani-o conservative about?

'Someone should put on a play about this.'

I went to a lecture last night. Edwige Danticat, Haitian-American author, came to Princeton to deliver the 2nd Annual Toni Morrison Lecture (Dr. Cornel West delivered the first one last year). Some superstars of black academia were in attendance, including Brother Cornel, Eddie Glaude, and Toni Morrison. The title of the lecture was: "Create Dangerously: The Immigrant Artist at Work." I freely admit I don't know much about Haiti — my knowledge of the Caribbean is limited to Jamaica — but I learned a lot last night. Danticat told the story of two guerilla fighters' execution on November 12, 1964, after they had been caught by Duvalier. Government buildings were closed, schools shut down, people bused in from the countryside, all to watch the murder of two men who were attempting to free Haiti from Papa Doc's grip. When everyone was assembled, they faced the firing squad. "Blood on the wall was the collaborative art of a dictator and his henchmen," she said. With the sombre introduction, Danticat painted a picture that showed the dark beginnings of artistic expression in Haiti. She explained how Haitians staged plays during scary times. Medea, Antigone, and Caligula were all appropriated by Haitian writers, re-written into French, and subtly changed to reflect the dangerous times. The point of the lecture was reiterated. It was the responsibility of the immigrant writer to "create dangerously for people who read dangerously." And in turn, readers found courage to read from the writer's courage to write. She touched on the horrible economic situation in Haiti, and how even now, immigrant writers are necessary. And when people ask her why she's writing stories while her people are eating dirt, she says that there is "value in writing, and not just on a prison wall." Telling the stories is an important form of activism. Danticat touched on her most recent book, Brother, I'm Dying – her most personal work to date, she later said – and a story therein. Her 81-year-old uncle, who raised her while her parents were in the U.S., came to the States on November 12, 2004, seeking political asylum. He told them of his niece, a U.S. citizen, a writer, and that she lived only minutes away in Miami. This was forty years to the day from the executions she discussed in the beginning. He was jailed, and died three days later. She says she remembers thinking, "someone should put on a play about this." The lecture was good, and the insight into the thoughts of an immigrant, an American artist, was priceless. Another quote that stuck with me: "The immigrant artist quantifies the American dream." Chew on that.