Last week I was asked to contribute a 4-part online Mommy Blog for a popular Black Canadian magazine. The topic was Motherhood. Black Motherhood, specifically. There was to be little or no pay, no contracts were signed, and my passion and the fact that I was a “fine writer with a good deal of rant” would suffice as compensation for my 16 years of professional experience. Really.
That said, I was excited to commit to the discipline of writing a series of articles for publication, and certainly to lend my voice and support to my community.
However, truth be told, “Black Motherhood” is not something that I had ever really thought about, per se—at least not from the vantage point/perspective that whatever I had to say would reflect a “universal” black experience. I was also quite leery of writing something that was supposed to be “representative.” And frankly, how many times had I read, and also thought that Black People are not a monolith? Certainly this is what American Black People on Twitter and the blogosphere had expressed time and time again…
But there I was writing for the first time as a Black Mother and my perspective was to somehow juxtapose and perhaps offset the Wall Street Journal Amy Chua brouhaha of “Why Chinese Mothers are Superior.” I confess that I did not know “how” to write as a Black Mother—did Amy Chua have any misgivings writing as a Chinese Mother?”— nor did I succeed at first. I submitted my article, and the editor said, this is good, now please write from the perspective as a Black Mother. Wow, OK, I thought to myself, I thought I had.
Since I became a Mother, I haven’t ever spent too much time or stock in my “mothering” as it relates to my blackness. This could be a result of my being born and raised in multicultural Canada—that my friends and neighbours were as diverse as I was; the fact that my parents were educated and had careers; or that my Mother, who raised her 3 daughters as a Single Parent, who at times had to be both Mother and Father, simply marched to the beat of a different drummer—her own.
Growing up, I knew that I was Black by virtue of my skin colour, and by virtue of my African name. I knew I was black the first time a classmate called me Nigger. And I knew that I was black when my mother with confidence, tenderness and discipline told us that we could do and be anything we wanted regardless of skin colour. At the same time it was imparted to us that we must at all times be certain to “watch our Ps and our Qs.” “Never let them know your limitations,” my mother often said. “Don’t let people know how much you drink,” was another. “Don’t draw unnecessary attention to yourself,” was a third. The rest I can’t remember, but suffice it to say that whatever my mother did say left an indelible mark on my psyche and those “Birdie’isms” as I like to call them, contributed to who I am today.
I recall with distinction the time when the groundbreaking television program “The Cosby Show” first aired. There was much banter and discussion about how this particular family helmed by career professionals with 5 differently hued children who were raised with culture, warmth and love did not “accurately” reflect the so-called black experience. And yet they did. Just not the one that we typically saw reflected on sitcoms [Good Times, What’s Happening?, Sanford & Son], or on the 6’oclock news.
Watching Cosby, I remember thinking, yes, that’s my family right there. I loved Lisa Bonet in the character of Denise Huxtable because she was quirky and stylish. I never once thought that she “wasn’t” me or that we could not “like” one another because her hair or skin colour did not match my own. I simply thought cool, she IS who she is, so cool. When it came time to for Denise to go to college, I kept thinking, how swish, I’d LOVE to go to a black college. Not because I didn’t love my Canadian experience, but because the all-black university experience seemed so rich with culture, heritage and tradition. At one point, I quite literally considered myself in the running to marry Bill Cosby’s late son Innis. I truly did.
But as real as reality is, Time moves on. My sisters and I grew up, travelled abroad, attended university, worked in our chosen professions, and went our separate ways. We all eventually married, had children and built lives for ourselves based on our interests and experiences and not necessarily based on the colour of our skin. It never occurred to any of us that we wouldn’t marry black men [none of us did] or have black children [our children are Singaporean Chinese, Czechoslovakian, Dutch & German, plus Jamaican/Caribbean, Cherokee Indian, and Nigerian & Scottish], but we knew that whomever it was that we chose to fall in love with and who fell in love with us would have to respect our culture and heritage and certainly appreciate each bump and hustle that we experienced as a result of our humanity and our womanhood, in addition to our blackness.
So this is where I am today. Officially Black, and unofficially conflicted as to “why” I feel the way I do. Perhaps it’s because when I see myself, I don’t know how to be anything other than what I am. I’m not trying to live up to anyone’s standard or image of what a black person is, what a black person says, how a black person looks and acts, and certainly I’m not looking to align or assign myself with one particular role in the post/race game.
I am hyper aware of the media images that perpetrate an exaggerated stereotype of what black “is” and even as I recognize that these like many other stereotypes are grounded and perhaps founded in a certain “reality,” some of us veer widely from those suggested norms. I think about the Black Mother in recent news who was jailed for fudging application papers so her children could attend a better school. I think about the injustice of the disproportionate number of incarcerated black males, and the alarming stats that highlight how black males underachieve in schools, and I think what IS it about this race-thing that prevents us from moving forward? I think that one can never figuratively divest in race because issues of race affect us in the most profound of ways. I think about my own upbringing where I often heard how “different” my sisters and I were. I think about the black woman salon owner who told me that I wasn’t black enough and that “when the brothers see me coming, they see White Man’s Property stamped on my forehead.”
But these things, other people’s skewed ideas about a person’s humanity [or lack thereof], and commonly accepted tropes don’t alter what I think of me or what I think it means to be a Woman, a Mother, a Parent, or a Black Mother for that matter. If we are to move forward in a progressive way, as a global community, then we need to align our parenting resources and recognize our commonality, and look ahead and perhaps beyond our skin colour difference. We need to start seeing ourselves as citizens of the world.
Now correct me if I’m wrong, but I really don’t think this is an issue of my privilege talking.
Your writing is so lovely to read; I sailed through this piece.
I really appreciated your perspective; I think you are blessed by your experiences, and can imagine you have been made richer for them (even as painful as it is to read awful things people said to you…).
Being brought up by prejudiced parents, its been a long road to overcome the stereotypes that were repeated over & over to me & my siblings as children, and move beyond and above that – and help guide my own children on a path of understanding, acceptance, inclusion that I didn’t have as a child. It’s an imperative. People are people.
I feel a time where these invisible and still visible dividing lines are blurred or go away all together is close at hand. I really do long for and expect that the future is a place for my children where skin color is culture, heritage, experience, but not a basis for exclusionary or prejudicial treatment. But, then, I’m a white priviliged idealist who believes all people are linked by energy and the power of positive thinking is real and strong. So this:
“If we are to move forward in a progressive way, as a global community, then we need to align our parenting resources and recognize our commonality, and look ahead and perhaps beyond our skin colour difference. We need to start seeing ourselves as citizens of the world.”
Yes.
ps: I too loved the Cosby show (much to my parents’ chagrin). I’m imagining you & I are similar in age.
thank you kelly! so glad that what i wrote made sense to you. it’s never ‘easy’ to talk abt issues of race and culture because we can’t ever ‘walk a mile in someone else’s shoes.’ i’m always mindful of what i say, and how it’s perceived b/c there are so many ‘triggers’ for people that i’m not altogether familiar with. at the same time, i don’t think we shld be afraid to speak our minds, or to discuss our fears, even if we may come off as insensitive or uneducated. it’s really how we learn. for example, i would rather know what somebody ‘really’ thinks of me, rather than having them pretend. and yet, i have not ever felt it was my role or duty to change somebody’s point of view. i find that given time people can draw their own conclusions if they are ready and willing.
i think that it is absolutely fantastic that while you came from an environment that taught you to judge people based on the colour of their skin that you are working towards give your children a more positive experience and outlook. it can’t be easy since how we grow up often reflects how we walk in this world. i think that we need to be open to the fact that our belief systems can change, and while it can be easy to judge people at face value, it’s so much more meaningful if we actually talk to people.
i think that we are very fortunate to live in canada. it’s not the panacea, and we certainly have our own issues of racial conflict, but at least we ‘try’ to co-exist a little better. there’s always the covert racism that some of us face on a daily basis, and certainly racism is so embedded in the culture that many of us are apt to experience it in different and subtle ways, but i don’t think it shld define and constrict us or paralyze us into inaction and negativity.
onwards!
Fascinating! I grew up in the Deep South, and I think I’ve known a lot of people with very different perspectives – I appreciate hearing yours, and I’m sorry that you were told to rewrite the article.
What did you do?
hi susan: thanks so much for your comment. what’s interesting to me is that there are so many stories, and each of us has so much to share! i never suppose that my own story is the ‘only’ one and yet so much of what i read in the media seems to have this slant and bias that i’m ‘expected’ to follow.
when the editor asked me to make it more black so to speak, i honestly told him that i thought i had, and i had to literally rack my brain to try and figure out what that might mean. i said ok, and then started to talk abt my family and my experience. i even put black mother in quotations! when he edited the piece, i believe he took the quotes out. [in a previous blog post i posted the edited piece that appears in the magazine [not sure if it’s still there], and my the first ‘original’ draft down below.
the whole experience was quite odd. the editor and i had talked about him wanting me to write something that was more inspirational given the negative, stereotypical portrayal of blacks in the media, but i’m not sure that “his way” was the way to do it. i also believe that us moms have a sixth sense abt our mothering regardless of what colour we are.
Hi,
First, I love your blog! I’m a Black female writer from Toronto and I have also written for the same publication. I’m not surprised about your experiences with an editor who wants to ‘blacken’ up your work, but I think the issue I have with the publication is that it is trying to create this identity where none really exists.
I am a metal journalist, photographer and overall metalhead and for the past decade or so, have really focused on writing about black alternative artists and alternative culture in general. I’ve found that pitching Black-centric publications – primarily in Canada and a few in the US – to be a complete waste of time. They are not interested in Black culture that does not include Hip-Hop, Reggae, R&B or Calypso and seem to have no interest in Black artists who choose to follow the artistic path that perhaps their friends were into, versus what is perceived as ‘authentically’ Black. It is frustrating, especially growing up here, and yes, I’ve had more than one Black hairdresser comment on who they thought I was – but that is another post!
Anyway, great post!
@Lainad: thanks laina! whew, where to begin?
i think that so many of us have so many ‘different’ experiences that it’s kinda tragic that the commonly accepted ‘stereotype’ is the dominant one. i also find it interesting that when we as individuals express our individuality, we are questioned and are called upon to ‘defend’ ourselves as if expressing our difference makes us somehow inauthentic or less than.
i grew up in winnipeg. and i used to ‘bang my head.’ i wasn’t into any one particular music scene, and i never felt as if i had to be. i used to frequent a club that was predominantly ‘white’ and played alternative music, but that did not deter me from going, nor did people treat me differently. if anything, it was my mother who called me out for ‘drawing attention to myself’ because a friend of a friend had told her parents that they had seen me there. that said, i love ALL types of music. and i have an affinity for artists who are passionate about what they do regardless of genre or colour.
in terms of the publication in question, i can’t really argue for or against their position. i think they have a right to uphold their mandate if that’s what they truly believe. i definitely think they are missing out by not exploring the many varieties of black/artists who make up our incredible global culture and not just the ones who follow the mainstream idea of what is “good” and or “worthy.” i also think this gives you an incredible opportunity to create a publication that expresses the diversity you talk about in order to fill the void as it were.
a few months ago, i’d like to think that i took flare magazine to task for daring to call themselves, “canada’s fashion authority,” since i felt that they did not adequately reflect canadian diversity and yet they dared to give themselves such a ‘hoity toity’ moniker. do you think anyone from flare replied to me? not a one! [although i did hear through the grapevine that their office was all aflutter abt some random blogger/twitter freak—that wld be me-- who was berating the publication on line].
so ya, all this to say that as frustrating as it is to have to rationalize black/diversity with ‘close-minded’ editors is kind of like farting in the wind. only those closest to you will smell it, and the people on the other side of the room won’t be any the wiser.
good luck to you!
Funny that you mentioned Flare. I did an editorial internship there in the early 2000′s when Suzanne Boyd was EIC. It was an, ahem, “interesting environment.”
I grew up outside of Kingston, ON in a very rural environment. It was pretty easy to frequent a variety of different clubs and music, so listening to a variety of music was pretty much the norm. When Rap, or ‘Hip-Hop’ started making waves, I remember gravitating to it simply because the lyrical content at that time really resonated with my experiences. Times have changed! But I think that Black-centric publications have to remember that there are generations of Black folks who were influenced by a myriad of different music and cultures ( especially FM/AM radio before the advent of technology), not just what is expected that we gravitate to.
@Lainad: this is great! ya, flare makes me scratch my head a few times/month.
i still think you’ve got a perfect opportunity to run with your passion. it’s too bad that the so-called black-centric publications aren’t hip to what is happening outside of the environments they choose to support. and then if you choose to pitch your idea to the mainstream i imagine that that community would in turn ask why didn’t you come to “us” first? so really it’s kind of a no-win. that’s why you have to trust your instincts. the rest will hopefully follow suit.
best of luck to ya!
xobolaji
Whoa! Loving your blog. Stumbled on this piece. I’m about to blow my own navel gaze-y blog up, destroy my twitter feed and start all over again. The short story. White woman/mom, Filipino husb, Jamaican son through adoption. We live a the heart of multicultural Vancouver where everyone is the other, even me. I think/hope my son will grow up in a fully mashed up, fusion society, possibly the first generation to really have that chance. This doesn’t mean I’m all ladeeda eyes closed to realities around him or me but I really feel like the time is coming.
@Harriet: thanks for your comment harriet! your family sounds incredible! the most interesting thing to me is that in our changing times the concept of family is exploding at warp speed. to me it’s an incredible miracle and a blessing. what an opportunity we have to really understand what it means to be human beyond the “superficial” trappings of appearance. at the same time it’s important not to dismiss what we “look” like because in many way race determines our lived experience, or how we’ve had to manoevre in our world. i personally have never accepted the “colour-blind” notion. i always felt it was kind of dismissive since being in our skin is part and parcel of who we are. i find it’s largely other people’s perception about what it our skin means to them that makes race’isms awkward. i do hope that you will share your story. i wrote a little something else about multiracial families at @mommyishdotcom here it is: http://bit.ly/n77wIr take care! xobolaji
Agree. I’ve seen kids and adults point out his difference in our face – playing with his hair, dumping sand in his hair (honestly people, get over it!) I find that there’s also a bizarre cultural appreciation (?) or rather… a stereotype around my son. There’s a nodding regarding … of course, he’s already athletic and apparently has rhythm (ah!! seriously… ) but amusingly I’ve noticed how attracted he is to white guys playing guitar (buskers! so funny)… and isn’t much of a dancer (what???!
. As it happens, he has a whole birthfamily that we are in contact with to help him out on the cultural front, which is great. I’ve written a lot about all it – the intersection of race, adoption, biology, and being a multiracial family…
@Harriet: this just makes me smile. and i love that you have such a great sense of humour about it all! the way i see it, we can either educate the ignorant, or we can give into the notion that the world is a hostile racist place and there is not hope for humankind.
personally, i think it’s worthwhile to invest in the former. onwards!