20somethingyearold-blog1

[20somethingyearold-blog1]

Between the World and Me: afterthoughts pt. 2

Beyond the discussion of losing the black body, Coates also sheds light on the history and the current state of the black body, and how in turn the Dreamers react –or refuse to do so. I wish I highlighted more, or wrote more notes, but I couldn’t put the book down, it had this rhythm and I followed it to page 152. However, when I could stop, I noted the following on the other points Coates discusses (I find it I would do Coates an injustice by trying to summarize his personal struggles and those he has with the Dream and the Dreams, and so for his sake I won’t highlight those points, but urge you to read the book):

·      It is argued that America is innocent of its racist past, it is faulted in its naivety and thus must be forgiven. That this nation’s history has for too long (not really) been rubbed in their face and not much can be done about it. This is false. (actually, something can be done, read Coates article “The Case for Reparations.”). Page 8-9.

·      There is a perpetual cycle of failure between the education system and the government that shifts the burden on the people, more specifically people of color. Page 33 & 111.

·      The education system has done an injustice to the black and/or impoverished community with its inability to harness black talent and minds in the same fashion it has with more affluent counterparts. Page 43.

·      Consciousness, politically or otherwise, and coming to it is painful. Page 52.

·      Change is and will be difficult. It will not be left to one person. Because a change in the system and in policy goes against every fiber in today’s society. To rip it apart will be disastrous for everyone, and the world is ultimately comfortable not knowing what that is like. Page 79.

·      Walking scared or on guard is wasting energy. But necessary for survival. Page 90 & 114.

·      Identity and perception will always matter more than skill, talent, and societal contributions. The black body is always at a disadvantage. Page 120.

 The following are direct quotes that I couldn’t get over, that are better said and copied than paraphrased.

·      “…today when 8 percent of the world’s prisoners are black men, our bodies have refinanced the Dream of being white. Black life is cheap, but in America black bodies are a natural resource of the incomparable value.” Page 132.

·      “Even when they [Howard students] succeeded, as so many of them did, they were singled out, made examples of, transfigured into parables of diversity.” Page 141.  

·      “The forgetting is habit, is yet another necessary component of the Dream. They have forgotten the scale of theft that enriched them in slavery; the terror that allowed them, for a century, to pilfer the vote; the segregationist policy that gave them their suburbs. They have forgotten, because to remember would tumble them out of the beautiful Dream and force them to live down here with us, down here in the world.” Page 143.

·      “And black power births a kind of understanding that illuminates all the galaxies in their truest colors. Even the Dreamers –lost in their great reverie—feel it, for it is Billie they reach for in sadness, and Mobb Deep is what they holler in boldness, and Isley they hum in love, and Dre they yell in revelry, and Aretha is the last sound they hear before dying. We have made something down here.” Page 149.

·      “But the Dreamers have improved themselves, and the damming of seas for voltage, the extraction of coal, the transmuting of oil into food, have enable an expansion in plunder with no known precedent.

 And if you feel like a Dreamer as you read this, or somewhere in between like me, this isn’t a book on how to act, or how to change. It’s not even one for you to get angry about. This is a story of a man navigating through his world. To fight this would be like someone fighting your story and your struggles; the ones you carry so proudly on a chipped shoulder. It is like saying your life and your experiences and your opinions and your truths, regardless of how relevant they may be, regardless of how well they stand up to science and research, are invalid. Writing is his life’s work and he has found success in his story. Because you cannot profit off of yours, which would only had irony and insult because you are a Dreamer, does not mean is unworthy of success.

[20somethingyearold-blog1]

Between the World and Me: afterthoughts pt. 1

If there’s an underlying theme in Between the World and Me it’s the destructibility of the black body. Coates lyrically and engagingly does more than write to his son, but tells us his story of finding himself, finding consciousness, and finding his weaknesses and strengths.

As a white woman --although I wouldn’t identify as a Dreamer, either because I believe myself to be on the path of consciousness, or because I’m Hispanic, or because I saw my parents grow out of poverty—I read this book to understand, to educate myself. I thought the most emotional response Coates would be able to elicit was sympathy. However, I closed the book with more empathy than I expected.

His discussion on the ease with which a black body could be taken struck a chord. To him the black body could be taken, dismembered, shot, or imprisoned by the police, the streets, or by anything really. The only thing keeping the black body safe, most of the time, if not luck, is ones own ability to remain unseen, in control, and responsive to the silent language of the streets.

As a woman, I know this fear all too well. It’s the fear of other men. This fear persists when I walk alone. When I walk in an unknown neighborhood. When I walk at night. When I travel alone. When I stop at gas stations at night. When I feel safer with a knife in my bookbag. When I know to yell fire instead of rape. When I tell myself to dress conservatively. When I wear flats so I can run faster. When I carry a pen in my ear to gouge eyes out faster. When I clench my fist instead of flipping the bird at catcallers, howlers, and stalkers. When I walk into work and wait for my heartbeat to lower after being followed for two blocks into my workplace. When I run to Carvel as a teenager after three men in a van follow my friend and I around her neighborhood in a UHaul van. When I have more stories than I wish to share. When I count myself lucky. I have never had my body taken, yet the threat is always there.

I too know a silent language of the streets. To keep my head down. To say hi, but not linger in conversation. To turn down drinks. To walk to the car with a male friend. To avoid certain neighborhoods. To walk confidently, as if I say I can fight you, but not too confidently that it looks like a welcoming challenge. To not make eye contact, but look enough to remember someone’s face in the case I will have to recollect for a police sketch.

And like those racist jokes we all pardon because we’re not inherently racist –we know this about you because you begin the joke with “I’m not racist, but…” –those rape jokes too fill me warmth and laughter. Oh, dear god, please tell me another.

All of this I feel everyday as a woman trying to make it out in a world we claim is equal. Equal pay and equal rights, but I don’t feel protected, nor safe. I find no comfort in the police because if I ever need them it will be too late, it will be to file and report; at which point they may take it seriously or as a joke. At which point I will be judged. At which point the blame starts to flow from myself and from others. At which point the embarrassment becomes overwhelming. Do I tell my friends? Do I tell my parents? Do I make it public? Do I file for charges? Did they find him? What as I wearing? Was I drunk?

I’m not sure what is more embarrassing, the questions I have to ask myself or the state of security for women.