desire

What you see is not always what you get. This is news to no one, so why is still such a problem?

The past few days I’ve been watching my sister’s show The Grapevine. It’s a one-of-a-kind program, offering a round-table discussion by Black millennials on popular issues in our society today. The topics vary from episode, and the panelists are as varied in their opinions as you can get. I do recommend that people watch the show, not only as a shameless plug for my sister and her production team, but also because shows like this, produced by and directed by Black people – especially Black women (!) – are important for future generations to see. Shows like this demonstrate that Black people are capable and quite willing to comment on popular culture, that it is okay to harbor opinions on the world around you, even if these opinions are unpopular, so long as you are willing to engage in a dialogue. There is only good which can come from unlike-minded people meeting together to discuss issues, coming to the table, hopefully, with the understanding that no opinion is completely right or completely wrong.

What I am going to talk about today will likely be the first of a long string of threads, spread out over time as I get my thoughts together on the messy topic of gender expression in general and masculinity / masculine culture in particular. This thread has as its impetus an episode of the Grapevine on Caitlin Jenner and the issue of transgender dating. The cast was somewhat split on the issue of when a transwoman should “reveal” their transness. One of the cast members – a cisgender man – found the idea of someone “masquerading” as someone else to be inherently offensive, especially someone whom the man found initially attractive.

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armed & dangerous

Response

tw: racial violence; On the necessary use of violence in regard to one’s self-defense and the inherent social issues which comes with the perception of danger and the Black male.

At night at Swarthmore, where the campus is relatively poorly lit, it’s rare for people to say hello to me. As we are approaching one another, my face shrouded by a hoodie or hidden in the darkness, students look at me, squinting their eyes in order to attempt to identify me, but in finding that it is too dark – and that I am too dark to be seen – they look away. There is a certain terror I see in their expressions, for they cannot recognize me as Xavier, as fellow student. They see in me a black male figure, and all the roles similar figures play in the American imagination.

Black men have become symbols of violence in our culture. We are seen as dangerous in our very existence, and must bear the weight of the burden of the epidermalization of contempt which is the immediate response of those whose paths we cross. This fact incensed me to no end during my first year at Swarthmore, having never experienced this form of fear before. I did not see myself as scary because I knew that I was a good one. The clothes I wore, the way I walked and the words I used revealed immediately that I posed no threat, although the assumptions that someone’s hostility can be boiled down to outward appearances is obviously dubious. Yet still, it continues to be a menace to the lives of several million, for it is has been the justification for countless murders, all in the name of self-defense.

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