Backbone Women

Hidden Figures amplifies black women's brilliance

2017-01-06T11:25:00.002-08:00

John Glenn and Neil Armstrong are America’s well-known and celebrated heroes who traveled into outer space. But it was the work of unknown black women mathematiciansand engineers that helped them get there.

The film HiddenFigures, which opens in theaters nationwide today, features the stories of the black women who worked at NASA under Jim Crow conditions and helped the United States accomplish some of its greatest successes during the Space Race.

The film is based on the book Hidden Figures by Margot Lee Shetterly who was committed to telling the story of the large group of black women who worked at NASA that she heard about growing up in Virginia that most of the country didn’t know about.

“It’s time that they get their moment in the sun. We’ve seen John Glenn…But when we see him we didn't get to see Katherine Johnson and Mary Jackson but now we do,” Shetterly said at a screening of the film in New York City. “The thing that I am so excited about is they are here. We are all here celebrating them. And these women are never ever going back into the historical shadows, not ever."

The story of the black women mathematicians and engineers at NASA is one of many of examples of black women’s contributions that is virtually absent from history. The Hidden Figures book is crucial because it is an important starting point for telling black women’s influence on a celebrated era in American history where they were overshadowed. Moreover, the book gave birth to the film which is amplifying black women’s brilliance through popular culture.

The film focuses on three women Katherine Johnson (Taraji P. Henson), Dorothy Vaughn (Octavia Spencer) and Mary Jackson (Janelle Monae). Spencer was recently nominated for a Golden Globe award for best supporting actress in the film. Monae found her reward in portraying a pioneer.

"I got to portray a fighter, someone who wasn't going to let discrimination stand in the way of her dreams,” Monae said at a New York City film screening. “She knew she had something else to offer and she changed the what it meant to be an engineer at NASA and became the first African-American woman" (engineer there).

For Shetterly writing about the black women of NASA was about centering their stories and lives to give them their proper place in history.

“For me writing the book, it was always about the perspective of these characters…and their experiences with segregation and the schools,” Shetterly said. “I wrote the story that I wanted to read. I wanted to see these women as my protagonist and superheroes and ordinary extraordinary people.”

The film Hidden Figures is important because it offers audiences an uncommon Hollywood portrayal of black women– complex and developed characters, Shetterly said.

“One thing that has been very rare is to see a black woman in a protagonist situation, as three-dimensional people,” she said. “We’re talking about mathematicians, mothers, wives, complicated people, not perfect. I’m delighted with that. All of these women were that in real life.”

The women’s stories portrayed in Hidden Figures can also serve as an example for young black women to pursue their dreams in fields related to science, said Monae who mentioned that her music and style are influenced by her appreciation for innovation, technology and heroes such as black woman astronaut Mae Jemison.

“I just think it’s so important for young girls when they see this movie so that they fall in love especially if they had a passion for STEM (science, technology, engineering and math),” Monae said. “Now people will have new superheroes. Now people will have context because what these women have achieved is the coolest thing that I have read about and been apart of in a very long time.”

There is no break from institutional and racialized violence, not for any generation of black folks

2016-09-23T20:20:00.001-07:00

The mothers of Sandra Bland, Eric Garner and Dontre Hamilton told me they’re committed to police reform so other parents won’t lose their children to police brutality the way they did. After they spoke Monday in an auditorium packed with college students at North Carolina A&T University in Greensboro they stressed their commitment to saving lives and changing laws.

In less than 24 hours in the same state where they spoke Keith Lamont Scott’s

mother joined their ominous club when her son was fatally shot by police in Charlotte Tuesday, an act that sparked protests in the streets and highways of the Queen City.

At the same time that activists were demanding justice and answers in the streets of Charlotte I was inside the Spectrum Center downtown as Sean “Puffy” Combs led us down hip-hop memory lane with 20 years of hits from Bad Boy Records, which for many black Generation Xers is the soundtrack of our youth.

Combs told us that tonight we would forget about our problems, our worries, anything that was making us feel less than liberated.

Tonight, Puffy said, we would be free. But we weren’t.

I got text messages from friends telling me to be careful because there was a shooting in Charlotte. I was confused. Then I got another text from a friend notifying me of protests in Charlotte and to look on Twitter for #KeithLamontScott. Police say he had a weapon in his hand that he didn’t drop before he was fatally shot. A relative said he had a book.

I was shaken, frozen and fought back tears as as the music blasted, lights flashed and people sang and cheered during the Bad Boy Family Reunion Concert.

Just the day before I heard Maria Hamilton of Milwaukee, Wisconsin tell students that even though she had walking pneumonia she didn’t want to miss the chance to tell them why they should not only register to vote but vote for Hillary Clinton because she is the presidential candidate who will work to change policy that will prevent police violence. Hamilton’s son’ Dontre Hamilton, 31, who struggled with mental illness, was fatally shot by police in a park in Milwaukee in April 2014.

Gwen Carr, the mother of Eric Garner who died in July 2014 after he was put in a chokehold by New York City police, and Geneva Reed-Veal, the mother of Sandra Bland who died in police custody in July 2015 after being arrested for a traffic violation, and Hamilton were campaigning on behalf of the Clinton campaign on Monday in Greensboro.

The mothers told the college students, who’ve come of age in the era of Black Lives Matter and numerous incidents of fatal police brutality against black women and men, that their generation has a duty to join them in the fight for justice and reform.

As I sat in the concert and scrolled though #KeithLamontScott on Twitter I thought about this generation of young black people who don’t have one singular image of anti-black violence the way my parents had Emmett Till’s bloated corpse scorched into their brains after the black 14-year-old was killed by white men in Mississippi in 1955. This generation has multiple images of black death.

But those of us bobbing our heads to Biggie’s hits grew up with our own incidents of fatal and severe police brutality against black people in the 1980s and 1990s: Eleanor Bumpurs, Malice Green and Rodney King. But there were no cellphones or social media to help document and amplify their deaths. But they still left an impression on us.

Puffy told us to be free that night. But there is no break from institutional and racialized violence, not for any generation of black folks. My dear high school friend Nikki Johnson Kirk sat next to me and told me how she is scared for her son and frustrated by the lack of accountability in these police-related killings of black people.

She also has a grandson, an adorable toddler with the brightest eyes and cutest cheeks that create a smile that forces others to grin when they see his face. Both of us hope he will live to experience freedom, for real.

Melissa Harris-Perry took the walk that many wish they could

2016-03-01T06:39:00.000-08:00

My Grandmaw was a news junkie. I mean she watched all kinds of shows and she kept up with everything. Celestine Marie Burnside, my 82-year-old black Southern grandmother, knew who Jay-Z is and about his clean water work in Africa and about Puff Daddy’s empire from Bad Boy Records to his Sean Jean clothing line.

Grandmaw was hip to all things, from pop culture to social justice. She watched 60 Minutes, Dateline, 20/20, Nightline, Headline News, CNN and FOX. One of her favorite news programs was Melissa Harris-Perry's show on MSNBC.

When I first heard that the MHP show was over I thought about Grandmaw. My Grandmaw loved the MHP show so much because she knew the importance of media representation. She grew up in the Jim Crow South either not seeing our images at all or seeing us in portrayed in ugly extremes. On the MHP show, she saw not only an intelligent black woman host who is unapologetically black but also black people’s stories told with dignity and fairness.

It wasn’t until I went home during her last summer that I realized how much she watched and loved the MHP show. During one Saturday morning visit I sheepishly asked her if I could turn to the show and she enthusiastically replied saying yes and that she didn’t realize it was time for “my girl” to come on television. Grandmaw felt like Harris-Perry was one of us. Grandmaw was invested in the host and the show much like the rest of the viewers known as #Nerdland.

During her last weeks of her life Grandmaw watched a lot of television. She was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer in July 2013. With each day her body grew weak and fragile. But her mind stayed sharp and her hunger for information never waned. Grandmaw, who was a member of the usher board at Second Baptist for decades, didn’t have the energy to make it to church so she spent Sunday mornings watching Melissa Harris-Perry.

My Grandmaw was particularly interested in the coverage and outcome of the George Zimmerman trial and the portrayal of Trayvon Martin, the teenager that Zimmerman fatally shot. Grandmaw looked to Melissa Harris-Perry’s show for truth and context. As we watched the Zimmerman trial unfold we watched the host introduce us to experts, issues and angles to stories that are seldom seen.

The last Sunday I spent with Grandmaw before she died we watched the MHP show. I remember Grandmaw saying how proud she was of the host, “Aww, that’s my girl right there!”

My Grandmaw was also proud of me and the journalism I produced during my 10-year career as a newspaper reporter. But she didn’t know what telling those stories cost me. I told her about things that happened at work but not about all of the insulting, humiliating, degrading ways in which superiors and colleagues devalued and dehumanized me. Journalism is a tough business especially for those who are black and a woman. Jill Nelson describes what it's like to be a black woman journalist in her memoir Volunteer Slavery.

I stayed in some newsrooms way longer than I should have only because I had no choice. Several months and years-long job searches resulted in hiring freezes and job cuts at media outlets. As much as I desperately wished and prayed for an exodus, I had to earn a paycheck and take the disrespect and discrimination that manifested in my body physically and mentally.

About 10 years ago at a National Association of Black Journalists convention professional development workshop for black women journalists the room flooded with tears and tales of crushing bigotry and unfairness that black women experienced at the nation’s top newspapers, networks and magazines down to weekly newspaper and local television newsrooms. Women talked about the work and stress-related illnesses for which they were prescribed medication from depression to high blood pressure. That day black women journalists at every level from across the country realized we were not alone in our suffering. A few years later several reports of young black journalists suffering from heart attacks and strokes made me think about the heartache and horror stories I heard at that workshop. In full disclosure I am now a post-doctoral fellow at the Anna Julia Cooper research center founded by Harris-Perry. But I write this as a black woman with newsroom experience.

For me the stress of staying in a toxic newsroom resulted in depression, insomnia, weight gain and sometimes excessive drinking and smoking. Some of those journalism jobs put my body and soul through hell. At the time it was the only way I could financially support myself.

Harris-Perry had a choice. She has another job as a political science professor and director of a research center. She holds a PhD in political science and is the author of two books.

In an email to her show staff Harris-Perry wrote: “It is profoundly hurtful to realize that I work for people who find my considerable expertise and editorial judgment valueless to the coverage they are creating.” Many of us black women journalists experienced the same treatment. But we couldn’t leave. There was nowhere to go. Harris-Perry left. There will not be months and years of newsroom toxicity and trauma for her to experience just to put food on the table. Good.

I don’t know exactly how Grandmaw would react to the end of the MHP show. I know she’d miss it like I do. But I also think that she’d understand why Harris-Perry left and applaud her for doing it.

#OscarsSoWhite diversity debate prompts question of the awards show’s relevance among people of color

2016-01-22T14:37:00.001-08:00

After the Academy Awards announced a slate of all-white nominees in major categories this year celebrities including Jada Pinkett Smith and Spike Lee called for a boycott of the awards show. A communications researcher says the Academy must become inclusive if it wants to be relevant among people of color.

Dr. Sherri Williams, a faculty member in the Communications Department at Wake Forest University, studies representations of people of color in the media. FOX 8 in High Point, North Carolina asked Williams to offer insight into the debate. Williams said the awards show is already irrelevant among many black viewers.

"There is and already has been a quiet and maybe undeclared boycott of the Oscars by African-Americans anyway,” said Williams who teaches a class on race, gender and the media. “People already don't watch the Oscars and they have really become obsolete because people don't see the work that they enjoy and the work that really expresses their life stories on television so they already haven't been watching."

The #OscarsSoWhite hashtag created by April Reign last year reappeared again this year because the exclusion of the work of artists of color is “systemic and ongoing,” Williams said.

“This is a conversation that has been ongoing not just with African-Americans but with people of color across the board because throughout the years, I mean pretty much since black people, people of color, have been represented in films they haven't necessarily been recognized for the work that they've done and people have become really frustrated by this," she said.

The Academy President Cheryl Boone Isaacs issued a statement in response to the call for more diversity saying the Academy will revamp the way that it recruits members. In the 1960s and 1970s the Academy tried to recruit younger people so it could remain vibrant and that’s critical now, Williams said, if it doesn’t want to lose the interest of other groups.

“Right now the voting Academy is 94 percent white, 76 percent male and the average age of the voters is 63,” Williams said. “The Academy needs to really reflect the country and it needs to really show and reflect what's going on in this nation or it really risks becoming obsolete not only with African-Americans but with other demographic groups."

Black Twitter crushes AP for Renisha McBride tweet, highlights social media's power

2014-08-08T20:59:00.001-07:00

Renisha McBride was more than the “woman who showed up drunk on porch.” But that’s the way The Associated Press referred to her yesterday after a man was convicted of fatally shooting her.

The original tweet that the global newswire service sent from its official Twitter account was apparently removed and replaced with another update with less offensive language and a note “rewords language from previous tweet.”

But Black Twitter did not miss the original tweet and immediately took AP to task for its portrayal of the unarmed 19-year-old black woman who knocked on the door of a white man, Theodore Wafer, after she reportedly crashed her car.

Black Twitter saw the “drunk” AP tweet and criticized the AP for portraying

McBride as a homicide victim who was responsible for her own death. Black Twitter applied that shift in responsibility to other historic and contemporary examples of injustices against black Americans with the hashtag #APHeadlines. Here's a collection of some of those tweets.

The social media response to the McBride tweet crushed the old one-way letter to the editor model of communication with editors. Readers, in real time, let the AP know that its words to describe the justice reached in the McBride case were an injustice.

Communities of color often lament negative news coverage they receive. The way the media reports on the background of black crime victims is often criticized. Reports showed that McBride had alcohol and marijuana in her system at the time of her death. But are those facts that needed to be included in a breaking-news tweet about the verdict? No.

The AP’s insensitive wording about the McBride verdict is very important because it is one of the few national media organizations to report on the trial with any significance.

There were mentions of the verdict yesterday on national newscasts and websites. But the Wafer/McBride verdict was not a priority among national news outlets.

The fact is, black women and the violence committed against us is rarely a top news story. In 2011 after Anthony Sowell was convicted of killing 11 black women in Cleveland that story barely made it through one national news cycle. Producers and editors were too preoccupied with the cases of defendants Casey Anthony and Amanda Knox.

Even when they’re the defendants, white women get more media attention than black women crime victims.

Renisha McBride didn’t get much national mainstream media coverage after she was fatally shot or during her murder trial. When black women’s pain is in the news it is devalued and belittled. The AP tweet is an example.

But activists kept McBride’s story alive through social media. I first learned of her death from a Facebook update from my cousin who lives in Detroit. Then I saw the #JusticeForRenisha and #RememberRenisha hashtags on Twitter.

Social media has empowered communities of color to be their own media agenda setters and gatekeepers and bypass traditional mainstream media outlets to get their messages to the masses. That’s a good thing.

But social media has also put more pressure on journalists to get information out even faster than ever before. There is little time for journalists to think much about what they’re doing. The rush to be first also increases the possibility to be wrong. Social media magnifies and amplifies journalists’ mistakes in a way we’ve never seen before.

However, journalists have to find a way to step back and think about what they’re doing before they send a message to millions of followers who are ready to retweet or refute their updates.

A former journalist friend told me about #APHeadlines. She wondered if more diversity in AP newsrooms and on its social media desk would have prevented the unnecessary tweet about McBride. I don’t know. But it is clear that diversity in mainstream newsrooms has taken a strong hit in recent years.

Just last week the Pew Research Center reported that there’s been a loss of almost 1,200 black journalists in daily newspaper newsrooms from 1997 to 2013.

There is no question that racial diversity is important in newsrooms and contributes to more accurate and complex portrayals of people of color.

But there is no guarantee that journalists of color would work on or even be consulted on editorial issues regarding race. I know several black journalists who were consulted afternewsroom editors and producers committed grave racial editorial errors.

This time it was AP. Next time it'll be another mainstream media outlet that will make a mistake that will put a dent in its credibility. Perhaps others will learn from the AP’s mistake.

If they don’t Black Twitter will bring it to their attention. The tweets is watchin'.

Dealing with rage, angst after seeing a Facebook photo of the man who tried to rape me

2014-06-27T20:06:00.000-07:00

I hadn’t seen him since he tried to rape me more than twenty years ago.

I thought I’d never hear anyone talk about him again. But a college classmate told me that the guy who violently attempted to rape me reached out to the classmate on Facebook.

Wow.

Shock. Disbelief. Anger. Fury. Confusion.

Wait, what? I know my classmate didn’t just tell me that this man who pinned me down to a bed, smothered my body with his until I couldn’t move and left purple-blue-black bruises on my chest, arms and legs for weeks now wants to chat it up with my homie on Facebook ? This can’t be real. Right?

But it was real.

I shouldn’t have, but I looked at his page to see if that was him. It was. Damn. There he was smiling in photos looking like the boy next door and not the beast that he is.

I was angry. Hot. After I saw his picture and told my friend, again, what happened that night when I was a 20 year-old college student I felt like someone just bashed me in my back, knocked all of the wind out of me. All the memories from that night came back fresh. For a moment I was stuck in the pain of 1993 and here he is smiling on Facebook today like that night never happened.

I always said if I never saw him again in life that would be too soon. And it was. After seeing his face I felt a suffocating rush, a wave of rage and it was about to crush me. I could not breathe as I thought about how I begged him to stop like I had never begged anyone for anything in my life then or since. I sat still as I recalled how I pleaded with others in the house to please help me. No one did. But I boxed my way out of that room. His plan to rape me failed.

Then my guilt of not reporting him rose up and rolled around in my stomach. Ugh. Lawd. I always felt horrible for not going to the authorities. But I honestly did not think it would do any good.

I didn’t think anyone would believe me.

Back then it seemed like no one ever believed black girls when we spoke up about sexual assault and harassment. Just a couple of years earlier it seemed like all of black America hated Desiree Washington for “putting that boy (Mike Tyson) in jail.”

Even a few of my own relatives talked about the “fast-tailed girl” who should have never been around that grown man by herself in the first place.

If people would easily dismiss one of black folks’ most beloved young women, a Miss Black America contestant, why would they believe me?

Two months ago when President Obama released a report from the new White House Task Force to Protect Students from Sexual Assault I couldn’t help but to think about my own experience. I was more than happy to hear that the President of the United States, the father of two black daughters, realizes that rape is a crisis on the nation’s college campuses and it’s everyone’s responsibility to seriously combat it.

Progress.

What if prominent black male leaders used their voices to talk about the safety of black women and girls back in the early 1990s? Would I have felt safe to come forward then? News of President Obama’s task force also highlights how rape and rape culture still exist on college campuses at an alarming epidemic level. One in five women is sexually assaulted in college, according to President Obama’s task force.

I study social media and how people use it, especially people of color. But I never thought about how social media has the potential to disrupt our lives by unexpectedly unearthing evil people and painful events. I’ll never forget what he did to me that night and how alone I felt in that house full of people while fighting for my life. Those memories are vivid and clear. But seeing his picture on Facebook brought on a special mix of outrage and angst.

I wonder how many other women and men end up seeing the faces of their attackers on social media decades later. I don’t know. But social media is reintroducing people into our lives from our past in ways I would have never expected.

#StopBlackGirls2013 latest digital assault on black women

2013-10-28T02:03:00.000-07:00

I wasn’t really shocked to see another ugly Twitter trending topic about black women emerge Sunday night. #StopBlackGirls2013 isn’t the first time I’ve seen Twitter become a web war zone littered with pieces of black women’s mauled images scattered across its digital battlefield.

#StopBlackGirls2013 didn’t surprise me but it did hurt. First, there was the photo of a gorilla leaning back with its hands on its hips that made me gasp. Then I saw photos of grown black women’s bodies placed next to animals and objects. Here's a Storify of some of the tweets.

But the photos of little black girls were really disturbing. Girls sitting in classrooms, trying on clothes at stores and taking selfies all got sucked into this ugly trending topic.

The #StopBlackGirls2013 Twitter trend seemed to attempt to showcase perceived ignorance among black women and girls. But even working at desks in classrooms, acting out the opposite of a stereotype, these black girls couldn’t win.

#StopBlackGirls2013 hit me in the gut because I saw it grow so fast and the women and girls seemed so familiar. Some of those women’s bodies look like mine. A few of those little girls’ selfies remind me of pictures my baby cousin takes of herself.

#StopBlackGirls2013 reminds me that black women’s bodies aren’t valued and neither are the spirits that reside in them. Historic stereotypes make it easy to reduce us to a funny photo that appears to be meaningless. But there is meaning in these ugly images of black women that are etched in the American psyche and continue to be recycled.

Twitter users also sent tweets using #StopWhiteGirls2013, #StopIndianGirls2013 and #StopHispanicGirls2013. Those were also sexist and degrading. People of all backgrounds sent all tweets, including black folks.

But #StopBlackGirls2013 had a stronger and longer Twitter life. At 8:30 p.m. I noticed it was the number five trending topic. It was in second place 20 minutes later. #StopWhiteGirls2013 trended more than an hour later at number six but it didn’t stay a top 10 Twitter topic for long.

The #StopBlackGirls2013 hashtag is part of America’s historical legacy of objectifying and demeaning black women’s bodies for sport and entertainment. Social media is just a new platform where it happens and the technology allows stereotypes to amplify quickly.

Twitter especially often transforms into a cyber combat zone where black women and girls are abruptly ambushed simply for existing. On Twitter black women always seem to be under attack and troops remain armed with an arsenal of stereotypes, memes and hashtags (such as #GhettoBabyNames and #BlackBitches) ready to strike. Remember how Rachel Jeantel was attacked.

I felt the sting of the #StopBlackGirls2013 hashtag more because just two days before I presented at the Gender, Race and Representation in Magazines and New Media conference at Cornell University’s Africana Studies and Research Center.

The keynote address from Kimberly N. Foster, founder of the online community For Harriet, reminded me of the ways that black women are using digital media to create their own images.

Blogging by black women allows them to “defy those codes of silence and break down those walls of shame,” Foster said. “This work that black women are doing online is a reclamation of our power.”

Black women and others entered the #StopBlackGirls2013 stream to disrupt the discourse and defend black women.

More disruption and reclamation are needed to #StopBlackGirls from being the punchline.

Angry Trayvon game dehumanizes Trayvon Martin in life and death

2013-07-09T01:34:00.001-07:00

He stands with his black face covered, wearing a gray hoodie and holding a knife in his hand while two men, one stocky with almond brown skin and stubble on his face and head, stand facing him holding knives.

They’re in a standoff. No one knows what will happen next. It’s up to players to decide who lives and who dies in the Angry Trayvon game.

The visuals for the game and the name of the “protagonist” bear an eerie resemblance to George Zimmerman who is on trial for fatally shooting Trayvon Martin, 17, as he walked to his father’s home last February in Sanford, Fla.

Social media users found the coincidence tasteless and disrespectful and appealed to app stores to remove the game (here's a Storify of their tweets). News of the game spread through social media rapidly on Monday, the 20^th day of the trial. The same day the unarmed teen’s father, Tracy Martin, testified.

Trade Digital, the New York City-based game company that created the game, released a statement on their Facebook page late Monday saying the game had been removed from online app stores after complaints. But early Tuesday the Facebook version of the game was still enabled to add new users. Late Monday between 5,000 and 10,000 people downloaded the app from the Google Play shop before Google shut down the page.

The Facebook apologywas posted around 11 p.m. and said: "The people spoke out therefore this game was removed from the app stores. Sorry for the inconvenience as this was just an action game for entertainment. This was by no means a racist game. Nonetheless, it was removed as will this page and anything associated with the game will be removed."

The game’s Facebook app page, created earlier this year, had 1,048 likes early today.

The @AngryTrayvonTwitter page, launched June 12 last year, has 946 followers and has a Dec. 2, 2012 post that says the game would be released “Christmas Day!”

It is very hard to believe that the developers of this game thought it was OK to use the details of what is perhaps the most high profile, racially-charged homicide of the decade as the premise for a violent video game. The game reduced Trayvon's 17 years of life and his murder to a backdrop of entertainment for couch potatoes.

The game’s developer’s described the game this way:

"Trayvon is angry and nobody can stop him from completing his world tour of revenge on the bad guys who terrorize cities everyday.  Use a variety of weapons to demolish Trayvon's attackers in various cities around the world. As you complete a level, you will notice more bad guys coming at Trayvon at a faster pace and a deadlier attack."

The image of the black male as the brutal boogey man who will viciously annihilate unsuspecting victims without provocation or warning is an image that is pervasive in American media and is embedded in the American psyche.

The pervasive presence of that dangerous stereotype may be why the Angry Trayvon developers thought it was OK to create such a game. But this game is a tasteless, callous way to not only recycle ugly stereotypes of black men but also to capitalize off this tragedy.

Social media and new media have emerged to play an interesting role in this case in and outside of the courtroom. Last year social media activism pushed authorities to investigate Trayvon’s murder. Courtroom insiders are bringing us into the room by reporting the tone and feel of the proceedings through social media updates.

But throughout the Zimmerman trial social networks have revealed some of the deep-rooted prejudices this nation still holds of people of color, including black women and Latinas.

And this game that used Trayvon’s name and murder for entertainment reveals just how easy it is for some to dehumanize black boys in life and in death.

The social media stoning of Rachel Jeantel

2013-06-27T00:47:00.001-07:00

When Rachel Jeantel testified in her friend Trayvon Martin’s murder trial yesterday she was called fat, ignorant, sassy, ugly and manly.

Jeantel was called everything except what she is, a witness in one of the most significant criminal trials in recent history – a young woman who heard her friend fight for his life.

Social media users called Jeantel a thug, an embarrassment to humanity and to black America. Some joked that she is worthy of a Saturday Night Live skit, a living stereotype, an example of America’s failing education system. Here's a Storify of some of the tweets.

Those tweets reveal some of the things that some Americans believe is wrong with this country, but more deeply, what’s wrong with young black women. Attacks on Jeantel’s hair, body, speech, grammar and attitude all seemed to be proof for social media users that young black women are fools.

Social media empowers users to mobilize quickly and spread information about a common cause to raise awareness and provoke change. But it also allows users to express ugly thoughts at lightening speed and with anonymity. Social media enables users to throw digital rocks and hide their hands. After Jeantel’s testimony Twitter users’ insults grew into a social media stoning.

One of the most common criticisms about Jeantel was that she looked like Precious, the overweight, undereducated character with a deep brown complexion portrayed by actress Gabourey Sidibe. That criticism was particularly troubling because social media users assaulted her appearance because she lives in a body that this society finds repugnant - one that is large, black and female. Jeantel’s is a body that holds no value in this society so she is perceived as a person who is not valuable or credible. So for some people anything that came out of her mouth, even in the most perfect English grammar and diction, would be meaningless.

Black folks had their share of criticism for Jeantel too. The black respectability police on Twitter pondered if her father is in her life. They said if George Zimmerman is acquitted it would be her fault because of her sassy attitude. Black folks said girls like Jeantel are the type to keep away from their children.

Social media users mocked the fact that Jeantel testified that she doesn’t watch the news. How many people in their late teens and early 20s do watch the news, especially young people of color? Part of the reason why they don’t watch the news is because they only see reflections of themselves that are stigmatized, mocked and ridiculed much like the discourse about Jeantel on social media and mainstream media after the first day of her testimony.

The ugly comments that circulated through social media about Jeantel’s speech, looks, mannerisms, race and education reveal the deep-rooted classism, racism, sexism and lookism in America and our inability to focus on what was important yesterday – justice. Yesterday young black womanhood seemed to be on trial instead of Zimmerman.

Last year Trayvon Martin’s murder was thrust into the spotlight by social media and black media. Mainstream media ignored the story until they were forced to start paying attention to online activism on social networks. Social media activism helped push law enforcement to investigate Trayvon’s murder and not just brush it off as another nameless, faceless dead black boy. Now social media is dissecting and devouring the last person who spoke with him.

Rachel Jeantel will return to the witness stand today. More sarcastic gifs, memes and comments about her will surely be created. But I hope social media users will invest more time into listening to her testimony and think before they post another mean photo or comment about a girl who is testifying in her friend’s murder trial.

King Day sales hijack, taint legacy

2012-01-15T13:26:00.000-08:00

At first I thought I heard it wrong. So I looked up from my computer to pay attention and really listen. No, I wasn’t wrong. The Kmart commercial boasted of steep savings during its Martin Luther King Jr. sale.

Eeww. Really? A Martin Luther King Jr. sale? Something about it made me shudder, kind of made me feel icky.

But it’s a feeling I’ve felt before when I’ve seen tasteless party fliers with half-naked black women’s shiny breasts, thighs and backsides exposed next to a bottle of luxury liquor advertising Martin Luther King Jr. “unity” parties at nightclubs.

The commodification of the King holiday feels disrespectful and wrong, especially because he advocated for economic equality and financial empowerment.

In the midst of high black unemployment, a flat economy and a global movement to distribute wealth it is time to revisit King’s advocacy for economic justice including a living wage and affordable housing – needs that remain elusive for many Americans today.

On today, what would have been his 83^rd birthday, the sight of Martin Luther King Jr. Day sales and party fliers make me sad and even a little angry that his image has been hijacked this way.

This is America where capitalism and profit reign supreme. So I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. However, the reduction of King’s legacy to a weekend sale is too much.

At the King Memorial dedication last October many of the speakers at the National Mall connected King’s concern for the poor to today’s Occupy Wall Street movement and his Poor People’s Campaign which called for Congress to help people of all ethnic backgrounds climb out of poverty.

I don’t know how King would feel about a Martin Luther King Jr. sale. But I know I don’t like it or the shake-what-ya-mama-gave-ya nightclub posters bearing his image and name.

So I won’t be sipping on Martin martinis at a bar or catching any King holiday deals at department stores this year or any King Day in the future.

I respect him and his legacy too much for that.

Civil-rights icon Shuttlesworth's death sadly eclipsed by Jobs'

2012-01-14T22:19:00.000-08:00

A great man died yesterday.

His work improved the lives of generations of Americans in ways they could never imagine.

His fearlessness motivated others. His actions made this country better. He was a revolutionary thinker whose ideas were ahead of their time.

I’m not talking about Steve Jobs, the Apple founder and technology genius who lost his battle with cancer at age 56.

I’m talking about the Rev. Fred Shuttlesworth the civil-rights icon who worked alongside the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr.Shuttlesworth died in Birmingham, Ala. He was 89.

Shuttlesworth’s courage to fight state-sanctioned racial terrorism and his willingness to challenge a system that brutally annihilated those who dared to confront it deserves some attention too.

This is not an attempt to diminish Jobs’ brilliance and contributions. There is no doubt he ushered America, and the world, into a new era of technological sophistication.

But civil-rights heroes such Shuttlesworth merit our gratitude and at the very least some of our attention because so many of them are dying.

Shuttlesworth’s death particularly resonates with me because I had the honor of interviewing Shuttlesworth in his home in Cincinnati in 2005. I travel streets bearing the name of Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. in Columbus, Cleveland and Cincinnati, Ohio with my former colleague photographer Lisa Miller for a story we were working on for the King holiday.

I called Mr. Shuttlesworth, told him about my story and requested an interview. He consented. He was a sweet, polite and humble host. I was in awe. I could not believe this man I read about, whose picture I’d seen in books was just very nice.

We stayed in his home for more than two hours, well beyond the interview. He spoke off topic and went on tangents about his experiences in Southern jails, at brutal demonstrations and strategic meetings. I waded in his words, soaked up his stories and marinated in his wisdom.

My story didn’t turn out the way I wanted. A lot of Mr. Shuttlesworth comments were edited out of the final piece.

But that afternoon with Mr. Shuttlesworth in his home remains with me. He told me he fought so hard for me, a black woman, to be able to pursue a career as a journalist and for my white colleague and I to be able to work and travel together without risk.

I was hurt when I woke up this morning and flipped between national and cable news channels and see extensive coverage of Jobs’ death and not a single story about Fred Shuttlesworth’s death. Maybe I just missed the Shuttlesworth stories. I hope that’s the case. I doubt it though.

Because of Jobs I have a MacBook laptop computer, iPod Touch and iPhone.

But I have freedom and opportunities because of Fred Shuttlesworth.

Jobs helped make my life easier.

Shuttlesworth helped make my life have possibilities.

Both men leave a significant mark on America and the world.

I just wish Fred Shuttlesworth would get some more attention for what he did for this country.

He deserves it.

Originally published 10/6/11

The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks

2012-01-14T22:16:00.000-08:00

Henrietta Lacks, a black woman tobacco farmer, traveled to space, contributed to the polio vaccine and helped pioneer fertility methods.

Or at least parts of her did.

Cells were extracted from Lacks’ body without her consent and used to help develop countless medical advancements including cancer drugs and Parkinson’s medication. Some of her cells were even shuttled into space to see how they would react in that environment.

Lacks’ cells never died. They were multiplied several times over and are still alive today helping major medical and pharmaceutical companies develop health treatments and make millions of dollars off them.

But Lacks died penniless in 1951 at age 31 of cervical cancer. Her descendants have struggled financially. For years they never knew about the millions of dollars earned off their ancestor’s body.

Journalist Rebecca Skloot wrote about Lacks’ life in last year’s New York Times best-seller The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks. Skloot traced the journey of Lacks’ cells across the globe. She also tracked down Lacks’ descendants and helped them learn how Lacks’ cells were used in scientific and medical research.

Skloot founded the Henrietta Lacks Foundation to help Henrietta Lacks’ family and others. Some proceeds from the book have already helped Lacks’ relatives with dental work, a hearing aid and college tuition and books.

Lacks’ cells were the basis of major medical developments yet some of her descendants, with their lack of access to health care, have not been unable to fully benefit from what she contributed to medicine.

Lacks’ story, which is being developed into a film by Oprah Winfrey, is a reminder of this country’s shameful history of medical ethics, especially among African-Americans. Lacks’ legacy also shows that the pain of inequality is not in the distant past. The sting of injustice still pinches the relatives of the swindled while the pillagers’ descendants still profit.

Originally published 3/3/11

Yuri Kochiyama: A True Revolutionary

2012-01-14T22:08:00.000-08:00

Yuri Kochiyama is a revolutionary in every sense of the word.

For the past six decades the human rights activist, who was comrade of Malcolm X and embraced him after he was shot in 1965 at the Audubon Ballroom, has been at the forefront of the movement to gain equality for people across the globe.

Kochiyama, a Japanese American, was first exposed to injustice during WWII. Her father was arrested after the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor and her family became part of the 110,000 Japanese Americans to be forced by the U.S. government to live in internment camps.

Kochiyama and her husband moved to Harlem in the early 1960s. It was there that she nurtured her six children and her passion to fight injustice. Kochiyama worked with black parents to improve schools.

After meeting Malcolm X at a political event in the 1960s Kochiyama became acquainted with him and they wrote one another during Malcolm X’s life-changing hajj pilgrimage to Mecca. As Malcolm X prepared to make what would have been his final speech he was shot and Kochiyama rushed to the stage and held his held during the final moments of his life.

Kochiyama, who has said her commitment to human rights is connected to the black liberation movement, still continues her activism today. The release of Mumia Abu Jamal is among the issues she advocates.

Her work is chronicled in her biography Heartbeat of a Struggle: The Revolutionary Life of Yuri Kochiyama. An incredible documentary Mountains That Take Wing: Angela Davis & Yuri Kochiyama - A Conversation on Life, Struggles & Liberation also gives insight into what motivated her activism.

That film shows Kochiyama in recent years at rallies speaking intensely through a bullhorn, leaning on her walker and fighting stronger than ever for human rights.

Originally published 3/2/11

Anna Arnold Hedgeman: The woman behind the 1963 March on Washington

2012-01-14T22:00:00.000-08:00

The iconic image of the Rev. Martin Luther King standing at a podium at the National Mall in Washington delivering his historic “I Have a Dream” speech is a momentous moment in American history.

But little is known about the people who helped organized the 1963 March on Washington, especially the women.

In fact there was only one woman, Anna Arnold Hedgeman, who was on the national committee that planned one of the most pivotal moments in the civil rights movement and American history.

One single black woman’s voice was at the table when major strategy that shaped the course of the country was crafted.

When Hedgeman learned of the lack of women’s participation in the planning of the event and the absence of women speakers she brought it to the attention of other leaders. Hedgeman wrote about her unique position as a black woman civil rights activist in her 1964 autobiography Trumpet Sounds.

Hedgeman is like countless other unrecognized people who played a significant role in the civil rights movement and the planning of the March on Washington. Bayard Rustin, an openly gay black civil-rights activist and principal organizer of the march, was pushed into the background of the movement and the margins of history because of homophobia.

But being overlooked didn’t stop Hedgeman’s passion for justice.
She continued to fight for civil and women’s rights. Hedgeman was one of the original founders of the National Organization for Women.

Hedgeman, who was an aide to New York Mayor Robert F. Wagner, Jr. in the 1950s, died in 1990 at age 90.

She didn’t leave surviving kin when she died. But she left us a legacy of courage and activism that deserves to be known.

Originally published 3/1/11

Eviction as a rite of passage for poor black women

2012-01-14T21:55:00.000-08:00

The photo is heartbreaking.

An evicted mother single mother standing on a snow-covered sidewalk in front of a refrigerator, microwave, mattress, chairs and boxes. With her life stacked out on the street, Shantana Smith of Milwaukee stood with her hand covering her mouth after she was put out of her home.

Such a scene of poor, black mothers being evicted is a familiar one, according to a recent New York Times story. In Milwaukee black women are 14 percent of the Midwestern city's population and 40 percent of those evicted there, according to the NYT story.

"Just as incarceration has become typical in the lives of poor black men, eviction has become typical in the lives of poor black women," sociologist and researcher Matthew Desmond told the NYT.

Wow.

Eviction as a rite of passage for poor black women is a cycle I'm not ready for us to accept.

But it looks like the trend is well underway and rough economic factors may cause things to become worse.

With black women having a more than 13 percent unemployment rate, higher than the national average of almost 10 percent, and unemployment checks set to stop for many this week, more evictions of poor black women will be no surprise.

Low-income jobs and lack of responsibility were a couple of reasons the NYT story cited for the high eviction rate among black women.

While I believe poor decisions may have led some black mothers into homelessness, poor polices and urban planning play a role too and have caused families to suffer.

A displaced family is a disconnected family.

No one knows that better than New Orleans native Triege Kerry Cotton. She was forced to leave her home five years ago when Hurricane Katrina battered the Gulf Coast.

Cotton finally moved back into her New Orleans home earlier this month at the Harmony Oaks development.

Cotton grew up on the same space when it was called the C.J. Peete Public Housing Complex. Developers are working to make it a different place. A new school is part of the development. The new development also aims to attract middle-income residents to the homes.

"I am thrilled to be home again," said Triege Kerry Cotton. "But it's not just about moving back, it's about moving up."

A sound urban plan can help other poor women of all ethnic groups move up too and not continue a cycle of moving out into homelessness and hopelessness.

A safe place to live and a good school are among the basics any mother wants for her children. A solid job will help with that too.

Congress is working on a jobs bill.

When they get that accomplished perhaps federal lawmakers can revisit the urban agenda and strategies that will stabilize neighborhoods.

Originally published 2/27/10

Suffering in silence: Black women, suicide and depression

2012-01-14T21:51:00.000-08:00

Jacqueline Scott seemed to have every reason to live. She was beautiful, brilliant, young and among the brightest graduate students at Ohio State University. She taught an undergraduate class. One of her students said she "was definitely a happy lady."

But something was wrong.

Scott, 24, went to a shooting range and shot herself in the chest last month after learning how to use a handgun at a shooting range in suburban Columbus, Ohio.

One of her colleagues in graduate school said she was "despondent" in the days before her suicide and seemed to be disinterested in her graduate studies classes. Only Scott knows what troubled her and led her to take her own life.

But Scott's death cleary underscores the need for more awareness and discussion of depression and mental health issues among black women and less shame and silence.

Suicide is a top leading cause of death for young black women age 14 to 19 and among the Top 10 causes of death for black women ages 20 to 24 and also for the 25 to 34 age group, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.

The stereotype of the strong, dependable, do-it-all-alone, hold-the-family-together, nerves-of-steel black woman needs to disappear.

It is time for black women to shed the Superwoman facade, cape, tights and the "S" on their chests and ask for help and receive it.

But that is hard because black women occupy so many roles in their personal and professional lives. The burden of carrying so many responsibilities and people can cause a woman's back to crack. The stress of working jobs they desperately need where their humanity is assaulted by people who devalue and disrespect them slowly erodes their confidence.

Terrie Williams, a veteran celebrity public relations specialist, said it best in the title of her book about her own battle with depression, Black Pain: It Just Looks Like We're Not Hurting.

Taking the time to address mental health and troublesome feelings is critical, especially now as we strive to survive the economic crisis.
We lose too much when we don't. There is the lost time, opportunities and relationships. And the illnesses that escalate and create even more problems.
Most importantly, we lose phenomenal and talented women like Scott and my musical and artistic idol singer and actress Phyllis Hyman who killed herself in 1995.

Talking to friends, family, clergy and counselors is a must to battle the blues and the fallout that comes with it.
Therapy is not a "white folks thing" and asking for help isn't a sign of weakness.
Just as black women visit doctors for physical health there is no shame in seeing specialists to attend to mental health.

It's time for suffering in silence to end. Destigmatizing mental health and creating a culture of support is needed to save lives.
We can't afford to have black women to continue to bury their feelings or have more families bury the troubled and beloved women in their lives.

If you need to talk to someone about your feelings call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-TALK.

Originally published 2/27/10

Still marching for our own, even on King Day

2012-01-14T21:44:00.000-08:00

Many of our images of Martin Luther King Jr. are those of him walking, arms locked with others in solidarity, toward equality with hundreds of people behind him.

Such a scene was repeated again today as the nation celebrated the holiday honoring King. Supporters of historically black colleges marched in the streets of Jackson, Miss. hoping to take steps to stop Mississippi Gov. Haley Barbour's plan to consolidate state-supported black colleges and university, as reported by the Jackson Free Press.
Barbour's plan to consolidate the state's historically black colleges including Jackson State, Alcorn State and Mississippi Valley State universities is
among many measures to trim the state's budget by $411 million.
But many fear that merging the schools will erase the history and identity of institutions founded to educate emancipated slaves and their descendants.

The consolidation of Mississippi's black colleges and universities is a ove that some fear could usher in the extinction of those institutions.
African-Americans have already seen the strong tradition of black boarding schools, which were feeder schools to black colleges, fade away.
The preservation of each and every black college is critical to both the intellectual survival of black people and the nation.
Black colleges and universities have given many of us a chance at higher education when others would barely glance at our college applications.
Average students are given a chance to experience college and thrive at black schools.
At black colleges ordinary students may enter but extraordinary people graduate from those schools.
But don't get me wrong.
Historically black colleges are not breeding grounds for underachievers.
The academic intensity is as strong as any other school.
I know. I've attended both a historically black university and a mainstream one.
The standards at black universities are high because the faculty and staff there know that the stakes are high for black students.
Being black and undereducated today is not a choice.
Instructors at historically black colleges push students to succeed in a way that is profound.
Whether it is the distinguished professors with doctorate degrees who challenge black students in the classroom or the custodians and kitchen staff who nourish and encourage students outside the class, the black college campus is a special place where students bloom.

It is fitting that supporters of historically black colleges took to the streets on the King holiday.
King himself was a product of a historically black institution, Morehouse College in Atlanta.
Sadly, this is a fight that isn't new and neither are marches to save them.
As a student organizer at Jackson State University in 1994 I worked with others to organize a massive rally to protest the consolidation of historically black schools. The Ayers desegregation case ignited the fire in us to move to the streets. Then- NAACP head Benjamin Chavis marched with us and current NAACP President Benjamin Jealous was among the student organizers.
At a recent alumni meeting in Columbus, Ohio my classmate and friend Alesha Russey and I looked back on those days with pride.
We thought our fight to preserve our schools was over until Haley Barbour revived it.
But the battle to preserve Mississippi's historically black colleges and universities is ongoing.
King advocated for equality in all areas in American life including education.
Unfortunately, more than 40 years after his death we are still marching to maintain the institutions that have educated when no one else would.
But this is a fight that we shall also overcome some day.

Originally published 1/18/10

Black singles: Make love, not war

2012-01-14T21:40:00.000-08:00

So it has come around again.

The recycled story about professional black women being disproportionately unmarried and terminally single.

During the holidays Nightline aired a story about successful black women who seemed to be perfect in every way, except for not having a man.
I missed the story during my holiday travels but heard a lot about it.
I got a few text messages about it and received several emails about the story.
There was a lot of buzz about it on theNational Association of Black Journalists list serve.
I finally caught the segment on YouTube.

Sigh...Deep breath.Exhale slowly. Very, long, sigh...
The story is another one that framed professional black women as the loneliest women on earth who cannot find anyone to love them.
I hate to criticize another reporter's work. I know the hard work that goes into producing these pieces. And I know how hard it is to get stories about people of color some ink and air time in mainstream media.
It isn't that I don't think this is a worthy story.
As an unmarried black woman who is friends with scores of other single black women, I know this is a newsworthy story.
I live it.
But this story seemed to be incomplete.
The voice of single black men was absent.
Brothers were reduced to a collection of somber statistics and each one was like a punch to my gut.
Black men are undereducated, unemployed and disproportionately imprisoned, the reporter said.
Those statistics are true. But lining them up against successful black women with no black man to speak on the issue painted all black men as shiftless and unworthy of professional black women's attention.
The good brothers who are single and available were invisible.
There were no examples of professional black women who eventually got married, no input on how they achieved healthy relationships. And single black women framed as the modern-day poster girls for today's spinsters didn't sit well with me either.
However, there was input from instant relationships expert Steve Harvey, author of Act Like a Lady, Think Like a Man.
He suggested that professional black women should consider dating older men. That's not a bad idea.

What I don't like about this recurring story most is the analysis and blame that comes afterward.
In neighborhoods, kitchens, barber shops and beauty salons the attacks on professional black women soon come.
There are claims that educated black women are single because we are siditty, picky and even too uppity for black men.
And accomplished sisters need to get off their high horse, lower their standards and be submissive.
Then women talk about their individual negative relationships with black men and assign all of those bad characteristics to all black men.
Each side hurls generalizations and stereotypes at one another like live grenades.
Then the war of words begins.
But the conversation about single professional black women seems to always blame the ladies and cast black women as undesirable and unlovable.
That hurts.
Because black women are holding families and communities close to their hearts and showering them with the same love black women wish they had when they are alone at night.

Having real and honest conversations about values, partnerships and compromising is what black singles need.
The blame game is a distraction and only deepens the disconnection between black women and men.
We need to be making memories, making love, making babies and making families.
We don't need to make enemies of one another.
If we continue to do so black women and men will continue to be unhappy and alone.

Originally published 1/15/10

Hate for Haiti during tragedy

2012-01-14T21:36:00.000-08:00

The earthquake in Haiti is heartbreaking.

It is painful to see the tear-stained and dusty faces of survivors working to pull wounded and bloody injured relatives and neighbors from the rubble.

The thousands of deaths caused by this natural disaster are devastating Haiti. The country's already fragile infrastructure has collapsed.
These are sad sights that weigh on my heart the same way scenes from Hurricane Katrina and the Asian tsunami did.
As communication is established more distressing news from the Caribbean island will come through our television and computer screens.

But some of the earliest awful stories about the Haitian earthquake haven't come from the island.
They've come from this country in the form of repugnant charity fraud schemes and nasty comments from right-winged commentators Pat Robertson and Rush Limbaugh.

Robertson, a Christian commentator of The 700 Club television show on the Christian Broadcasting Network, suggested that Haitians made a deal with the devil to gain independence from the French in the 1800s. Evidence of that deal, Robertson said, is clear because Haiti has suffered a string of tragedies while the neighboring Dominican Republic is prosperous. In the same breath Robertson pleads for his viewers to help Haitians during the earthquake while blasting the nine million residents there.
Limbaugh also jumped into the fray saying President Obama's prompt response to the Haitian earthquake was a political move the White House will use to "burnish their, shall we say, 'credibility' with the black community -- in the both light-skinned and dark-skinned black community in this country. It's made-to-order for them. That's why he couldn't wait to get out there, could not wait to get out there."

Their comments are among the saddest news I have heard associated with the earthquake. Such rhetoric is unthinkable at a time when the poorest country is the Western hemisphere is experiencing the worst natural disaster in its history.
But sadly such comments during a tragedy aren't new.
During Hurricane Katrina stories circulated about New Orleans' losses being the city's punishment for being a place where some residents practice voodoo and tourists indulge themselves.
Then there were the comments that the crime-ridden, mostly black city wasn't worth rebuilding.
The conservative commentators' comments have the same ugly tone.
Haitians beat Napoleon Bonaparte's army in 1804 and gained independence from France making it the world's oldest black independent nation.
Robertson's fable is out of line.
Limbaugh's suggestion that President Obama's rush to help Haiti is repulsive. Connecting aid to this devastated country to racial politics is beyond inappropriate.
Haiti needs the world's help not crackpot comments that defy history and decency.

Sadly, some relief intended to reach the country may not get there. Charity fraud scams are also surfacing less than two days after the earthquake.
The FBI released a warning to Americans looking to contribute cash to Haiti to aid the nation. Just like during Hurricane Katrina, opportunists will no doubt emerge and swipe dollars meant for Haiti's survivors.
It is disappointing that while some experience historic loss others use tragedy to gain.
Reputable charities such as CARE, the American Red Cross and Yele Haiti are using the efficiency of technology including text messaging to quickly accept donations. Haitian-born Wyclef Jean jumped to help his homeland and is back in the country with his Yele Haiti foundation to provide relief the same way he did in 2008 during the flood.
The FBI is warning people to be wise about their donations and check out charities before contributing.
Too bad Robertson and Limbaugh didn't take more time to wisely choose their words before speaking about Haiti's earthquake.

Originally published 1/13/10

I am a light-skinned African-American and I use Negro dialect

2012-01-14T21:32:00.000-08:00

I am a light-skinned African-American and I use "Negro dialect."

So what does that mean?
What does this say about me?
At least one of those things is a liability, according to Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid.
Reid is facing criticism for calling President Barack Obama a talented candidate who was a light-skinned African-American "with no Negro dialect, unless he wanted to have one" during the 2008 election as reported in the new book Game Change.
Are Reid's words shocking?
Of course not.
As many times as I have been told that I am articulate by white people who seemed to be both impressed and disappointed to hear me speak as well as if not better than them, Reid's words are no bombshell.
They are just another indication that America still needs to confront race in a real way and reconsider how we use language to evaluate people.

All of us alter our language to fit our atmosphere. When I'm around high school classmates I slip back into 1980s slang. With colleagues I use professional jargon that others wouldn't understand. I speak a little Spanish and often find myself saying "dios mio" when I gasp at something surprising or outrageous.
Some relatives laugh at me because "yall" and "maine" are still a part of my vocabulary after living in Mississippi for 10 years.
I love black people and I don't apologize for it.
Communicating with other black people I know well in a familiar and comfortable way using relaxed language is like talking to family.
Does that mean I am ignorant and unintelligent?
No.
I am an accomplished public speaker who has spoken before large crowds since I was 15 years old.

The use of "Negro dialect" has its place in the lexicon of language and American culture. The use of such language in Zora Neale Hurston's Their Eyes Were Watching God or J. California Cooper's books Family and In Search of Satisfaction illuminated the black experience in an authentic way that only the language of the people could.
Is it always appropriate to use "Negro dialect?"
Probably not.
But if people choose to communicate with others in a way that is comfortable for them that is their choice.
There may also be consequences. We use language as a barometer to determine competency and worthiness. Sometimes we are right to do that.
However, we can also sometimes make mistakes using language to establish intelligence.
Many of us have come across people who speak eloquently but their words were empty because they couldn't back up what they said.
As a reporter I have come across many immigrants who spoke broken English.
Does their inability to use the English language in a way that others may deem inappropriate make them stupid?
No.
Some of those new Americans were multilingual and spoke several languages but English just happened to be the language in which they had the least proficiency.

As the country becomes more brown and black we need to re-evaluate what it means to speak "Negro dialect," Spanglish and other variations of the English language within communities.
We can use this moment as a way to start talking about race and the issues around it in a meaningful way.
Why do fair-skinned African-Americans (and all Americans of a lighter hue) still have an advantage in this country and seem less threatening than darker brothers and sisters?
Why is the language people of color use still judged so much?
Why are old white men still calling black folks Negroes?
Why did Bill Clinton think it was OK to privately say to Ted Kennedy that Obama "would have been getting us coffee" a few years ago?
And why does Clinton's comment from the book receive less analysis than Reid's?
Addressing these questions are essential because some other notable politician or public figure is going to say something similar sometime soon.
This country needs more than a beer summit to patch up this latest racial gaffe.
We need a real conversation about race and we need to have it soon.

Originally published 1/11/10

All hair is good hair but please don't touch mine

2012-01-14T21:26:00.000-08:00

Can I touch your hair?

It's a question I've been asked often as people looked in amazement at the puffy, black cloud of kinky curls that sit on top of my head.

The question, and the look of awe that came with it, always surprised me.
I wondered why people were so fascinated by my nappiness.
Then the request to touch my hair started to become annoying.

Questions from both black and white people asking "How do you get it like that?" and "Where do you go to get it to look that way?" started to get on my nerves.
My hair grows out of my head this way. There is no miracle ritual I go through to get it to look like this.

But I realized people were just curious and wanted to know how I achieved this look. Some of them may have never seen a black woman with her hair in its natural state untouched by chemicals and not hiding under a wig or a weave.

But when my hair long, straightened by chemicals and rested on my shoulders the questions were different: "Where is your family from?" or "Are you from the islands?" inferences that the texture of my hair must indicate a multicultural background and not an African-American one.

Comedian Chris Rock explores the complex world of black women's hair and the political and personal decisions that go into how we wear our hair in the new film Good Hair.

Rock devoted months to examining the world of weaves, wigs, perms, braids, afros, twists and locks in the film because his young daughter asked him why she doesn't have "good hair."

That's a painful start to a film about a painful and personal relationship black women have with their hair.
Every woman wants to be beautiful.
But America's standard for beautiful hair (long, straight and blond) drastically conflicts with the hair most black women are born with: black, short and curly.

Understanding this dilemma among black women, it’s no wonder the black hair care business is multi-billion dollar industry.
Some black women pay the equivalent of a house note to obtain this nation's standard of good hair.

The industry doesn't get much of my money though. I stopped putting chemicals in my hair 11 years ago.
For me wearing my hair natural is not so much a strong political statement.
It's more of a personal declaration that I am OK as I am, without being drastically altered by chemicals or stereotypes or someone else’s standard of beauty.

And I also know that black women who chose to wear weaves, wigs and perms or no hair at all are expressing styles that reflect who they are as individuals.
Sometimes a hairstyle is a fashion statement and not a political one.

The range of styles black women we wear makes us unique.
Whether it's bone straight, store-bought, curly or kinky - all hair is good hair.
I hope other little black girls like Chris Rock's daughter learn that lesson early on in life.

Originally published 10/31/09

Viruses get attention but violence is a serious health threat for children

2012-01-14T21:22:00.000-08:00

Derrion Albert’s walk home after school to his Chicago home was his final and fatal act. The dangerous path for Derrion, a 16-year-old honor student, was lined with brutal assassins whose fists and fury snatched his life.

For Sherdavia Jenkins, 9, playtime resembled wartime. While playing with dolls on a summer day outside of her Miami home, a shootout erupted, a bullet from an AK-47 tore through her neck and killed her in 2006, weeks before she was to start the fourth grade.

Earlier this month national leaders joined Derrion’s family at his funeral as Americans shared outrage over the boy’s videotaped beating death by a vicious mob. Days later, Sherdavia’s family was quietly comforted by the conviction of her killer.

These disturbing losses of children spark anger and debate for a while. But later their deaths fade from the nation’s memory.

As the nation’s attention turns to more exotic health threats such as the swine flu, the old problem of urban violence is being eclipsed again.

Homicides of children, especially black youth such as Derrion and Sherdavia, is a serious health issue.

Homicide is the No. 1 cause of death for black males ages 15 to 24, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.

If this health crisis affected any other group there would be a strategy to prevent these deaths.

Some neighborhoods across the country are like shooting galleries where children rush home in fear hoping to cheat death another day.

Yet, killings of black children continue with no urgency for a real plan of action.

Where is the hysteria over these homicides? We know that violence is wiping out children faster than any virus.

Bullets, bats and bullies are serious, tangible, visible, immediate health threats to children. Yet the mysterious illnesses hold our attention.

Attorney General Eric Holder and Secretary of Education Arne Duncan’s recent anti-violence meeting in Chicago is a hopeful sign.

But their gesture feels familiar. A child dies brutally, leaders and politicians visit the neighborhood and their promises of protection rarely follow.

Something has to be done.

Anjanette Albert, Derrion’s mother, cried through a television interview and said, “I can’t believe somebody did this to my son…”

I can’t believe that the killing of her son and others have become so common that we seem to accept them as a normal part of American life.

Originally published 10/30/09

1 million babies die early annually, black babies premature birth rates are higher

2012-01-14T21:17:00.000-08:00

At least one million babies die across the globe every year because they’re born prematurely, according to a March of Dimes report released this month.

Nearly 13 million babies are born early across the globe. Their early births put them at risk to face a host of health challenges, including learning disabilities and respiratory illnesses, which frequently continue throughout their lives.

In the past 25 years the number of babies born early in the United States increased by 36 percent, according to the report. An increase in births by mothers age 35 and older, Cesarean sections and births assisted by reproductive methods contributed to the higher numbers.

Preterm birth rates for black babies in the United States are 1.5 times higher than white babies. And 85 percent of all preterm births happen in Africa and Asia.

These numbers come at a time when the nation’s bleak economy is smacking families of color backward and lack of health care is pushing them back even further.

A city clinic for indigent women closed in Columbus, Ohio earlier this month because of the city’s budget cuts. Another clinic for poor women in Ohio’s capital city shut its doors in February because the city was short on cash. The closures come at a time when the county’s birth rates are increasing. Women’s clinics in Oakland and Chicago also closed this year due to budget cuts.

The March of Dimes report calls for more resources to stunt the growth of preterm births. “Basic public health measures” need to be put in place to prevent babies’ early deaths and births, according to the report. But dwindling dollars for community women’s reproductive health programs have already cut access to prenatal care for women who need it the most.

Investing in the health of babies is critical. As the nation debates health care, addressing the well being of the country's babies is important now. If we don't those babies won't be here to reap the benefits of a revamped health care system.

Originally posted 10/26/09

Unemployment hits women of color hard

2012-01-14T21:04:00.000-08:00

Reports of a rebounding economy have buzzed among experts but new unemployment figures reflect what many families headed by women of color feel, continued financial struggles and prolonged unemployment.

Numbers released by the U.S. Department of Labor last week show the national unemployment rate has increased to 9.8 percent. But unemployment rates in communities of color hover above the national average. African-Americans' unemployment rate is 15.4 percent and 12.7 percent for Latinos. However, Asians' jobless rate is 7.4 percent. Whites have an unemployment rate of 9 percent.

African-Americans lead the unemployment rates among women at 12.5 percent. Latinas have a 10.7 percent unemployment rate compared with the 7 percent unemployment rate for white women.

Overall women have an unemployment rate lower than men, with all women having a 7.8 percent jobless rate and all men standing at 10.3 percent. But the disproportionate unemployment numbers among African-American women and Latinas are troubling considering the high number of female-headed households in some communities of color.

The new Department of Labor numbers show that the amount of people out of work for 27 weeks or more is now 5.4 million. More than 15 million jobs have been lost since December 2007.

Prolonged unemployment combined with high child poverty rates in communities of color are creating an economic emergency in families that were already leaning toward financial fallout.

More than 34 percent of African-American children are living in poverty compared with 32 percent of Native American children who are poor and 27 percent of Latino children in poverty, according to the Children's Defense Fund. Asians' child poverty rate is 12 percent compared with 13 percent for whites.

All Americans hope for a swift financial rebound. Women of color and their families directly affected by the recession await economic recovery with urgency.

Originally published 10/5/09