The "Black Girl"

I am the "Black Girl". All educated sisters know what I'm talking about. We are the ones who end up being the only one among the high achievers in school or on the job (you know, the only cheerleader or the only one with a corner office). We are the ones who are allowed into white social circles because we defy the conventional wisdom about Black people (articulate, intelligent and generally mild-mannered). We are outsiders and insiders at the same time. We represent a paradox of race and gender because we are not like 'them' but also not like 'us' either.

Condoleeza Rice is the ultimate Black Girl. Oprah Winfrey is the marquee Black Girl. Robin Roberts on Good Morning America is a serious Black Girl. Misty Copeland is the talented Black Girl at American Ballet Theatre. Venus and Serena Williams are the powerful Black Girls of sports. Halle Berry is probably the most beloved Black Girl in Hollywood. And she portrayed our only Black Girl superhero, the weather-controlling Storm, in the X-Men movies a few years back.

We Black Girls are not alone. There are Latino Girls and Asian Girls too. But Black Girls tend to be more obvious.

My tenure as a Black Girl originated in high school. I was one of the few Black Girls who took honors classes. Not only did I have to contend with low expectations from my teachers, some of whom took great pleasure in telling me how I did not belong, but I also had to deal with the social stigma of being "smarter" than many of my friends. You can only imagine what my weekends were like (because boys at that age are sooo into women of substance...)

Although I got a reprieve at Spelman because every student there is a Black Girl, once I got to law school, I reclaimed my position. This time around I was not the smart Black Girl, but I was one of the cool Black Girls. When I entered the working world, the Black Girl description became a permanent part of my identity. On Capitol Hill, where my boss happened to be one of the more prominent and vocal Black Girls, my position as her Black Girl staffer made me instantly recognizable presence. Later when I worked in the civil rights community, we had a sisterhood of Black Girl lawyers at the various organizations. And now at my university, I have Black Girl status in the History department.

Sometimes, it can be humiliating. Just ask the Black Girl from Texas who was identified as such in a yearbook photo of the Honor Society at her school. Apparently, no one on the yearbook staff knew her name, so they wrote in that caption as a placeholder, but then they forgot to correct it before the final printing. She got upset so the school went into damage control mode and issued an immediate apology.

I think she needs to get used to it. As long as she continues to be exceptional, she will always be referred to as the Black Girl behind her back. She will always stand out in the crowd. Among other black women, she will be criticized for being too uppity or siddity. Black men will accuse her of being head-strong and assertive. White women will regard her with suspicion. And white men will misjudge her as accommodating and non-threatening.

Of course, none of these impressions is true. We may seem to go along, but only because we play the game to survive. And often we win! We know who we are, and we celebrate it.

Go Black Girls!

Fo-Shizzle

What the hell does that mean? And why did I hear a commercial today in which a white girl said it? I guess no one says "awesome" anymore...

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So now I've learned to dub music CDs. Or at least I think I do. I spent half an hour at Circuit City yesterday trying to buy the right CDs that play on car radios and stereos. Apparently the ones I've had, but barely use, only play on the computer, so I waited patiently for a free salesperson and barraged him with questions. He was very helpful and suggested a good brand, but then I spent the next ten minutes concerned about how many CDs I would buy. The ones I had selected with the cases was $5, but I could get 45 more for only $5 more, except those would not come with cases. Then it was a decision between getting fewer so that I would take less of a loss if things did not work out. The cashier thought I was pretty funny, and probably very high maintenance. Finally, I settled on the 50 CDs with no cases for $10, and as of this morning, I have successfully dubbed the Seal CD that I promised my dance teacher last week. Of course, I have no idea how I did it.

I am slowly coming into the 21st Century. I still don't know how to send text messages, how to IM people, or anything more complicated than point, click and send. I am pathetic. But my husband is way worse, so that is my consolation. He is a total techno-phobe. He won't touch anything electronic until it gets plugged in.

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Tyra Banks will get a talk show this fall. What in the world does she have to say outside of her other show, Top Model? And is there anyone out there who cares? I swear, these self-indulged C-list celebrities and their talk show ambitions (yes, washed up super models are on the C-list, along with former child stars, aging rock star wives, and anyone who gets a show on VH-1). For example: (1) Tony Danza and his wannabe Marlon Brando (ANNGELAAAA); (2) Danny Bonaduce, the former child star who has made a career out of being a former child star; and (3) Sharon Osbourne, whose only claim to fame was being married to Ozzy, a certifiable lunatic.

Tyra is plugging her show with the enticement that there will be a runway on her set. Oooh, I can't wait...

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I just got another text book for one of my classes this fall, which brings the total to four. This one came with a CD. Who in the world has time to read through all of this before the beginning of the semester? Hell, when is the beginning of my semester? What day is it...

Character Flaws

Thank God for reruns on cable!

Of course, most shows tend to wear thin after a while because there is the inevitable sequence of bad episodes when they replace characters and try to continue as if nothing happened. On Cosby, I watch every episode from the beginning through the "Cockroach years", but after that, in season 6 when Olivia shows up, I lose interest. On A Different World, I can do without the first season, but I love seasons 2-5, the "Walter years." After that, the show falls apart in season 5 and the only thing that saves it is the wedding at the end. On Living Single, I liked it from the beginning, but as soon the "Kyle era" ends, the show becomes whack.

OK, so I have character preferences when it comes to repeats...but don't we all? Plenty of folks can watch Good Times reruns for days, but as soon as they kill James, the show loses some of its spark. All of a sudden, Michael starts to act gay, JJ becomes even more corny, and Wilona becomes this over-bearing mother superior. By the time they bring Florida back and Thelma gets married, the thrill is gone. On Sanford and Son, once Grady disappears, Aunt Esther and Woodrow adopt that kid, Lamont's fro gets curly, and Fred opens the Sanford Arms. On Cheers everyone knows the show was much better with Diane. While there were some good episodes during the Rebecca years (the Kelly Kelly song), the show never fully recovers, and all hope is lost when Sam decides to have a kid.

And this is why most shows jump the shark. Richie left Happy Days around the time of the infamous shark jump, and the show was never any good after that (did anyone think that the Fonz was the real star of that show?) The Fresh Prince tried to pull one over on us when they replaced the mother, but did anyone buy that? The same thing happened on Roseanne with the Becky switch. Remember how bad Married with Children became after Steve left? Even a pretty bad show like In Da House got worse after Debbie Allen left.

Message to all sitcom writers: You can't shed crucial characters and expect the show to continue unharmed. It's like sticking your finger in a dike to plug a leak.

I say that we follow the example of the Brit-coms and HBO. If we limit the number of episodes per season, then the writers can invest time in developing their characters and good solid storylines. And then the shows should have a definite life span, say no more than five years. Once a show reaches that point, viewers generally lose interest and then shows go into syndication anyway. We end up watching more reruns than original episodes--think Friends, Seinfeld, Frasier, Raymond.

Look, nothing lasts forever, except for perpetual syndication on cable...

Random Thoughts for August

I'm forgetting a lot of stuff lately. My aunt's birthday was on Monday, and I haven't called her. I bought her a card several weeks ago, but I misplaced it until Saturday night and still haven't mailed it. I have sympathy cards that also need to be sent. My sister-in-law lost her grandmother, but I didn't get a card and I don't remember signing one. I went to a funeral a few weeks ago and never sent a card (although I signed the book). Another aunt lost her father, but all I did was show up for the funeral and she sent me a thank-you note anyway. I still haven't baked the banana bread that I promised.

My best friend's birthday was yesterday. I have a card for her too, but ask me if I mailed it...

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Can anyone explain Omarosa? She is everywhere. I almost wish Donald Trump had just hired her so she could be filed away in an office somewhere. Surely she must have burned through those 15 minutes by now. But I can't hate her, because how can you hate a sister who's found a way to work some of those black women stereotypes to her advantage? She's arrogant, kind of bitchy, pretty enough, and she can get down in the hood like the rest of us. She could be my bourgie blackwoman superhero...

Come to think of it, Omarosa is the only other black woman on TV with first name recognition besides Oprah. Is that a coinky-dink, given that both of their names begn with O?

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So I'm watching As Time Goes By this afternoon and it occurred to me that I've seen most of the series now. I missed a few of the early episodes, but I saw them on the BBC a few weeks ago. Now that PBS has gotten near the end of the series, I'm starting to feel a little sad because in a few days my show might get replaced with some other Brit-com that I may not like. They already replaced All Creatures Great and Small on Saturday afternoons...

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I like the BBC, but there are no people of color on their TV shows, or at least not the ones that get shown over here. I know there are brown people in Europe. They colonized or enslaved half of us, and once upon a time, the sun never set on the British empire, so what gives? After the train bombing in London, they were quick to trot out all of the black school kids to prove how diverse their society had become.

They should be proud of their Black Brits. There is SEAL, Soul to Soul, Caron Wheeler, Incognito, that chef, Ainsely Herriot, and the DJ on Ellen. Oh I almost forgot, Scary Spice is black too (most of the time).

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It is officially the middle of August, and that means I need a life, a job outside of the house, and some new shoes. My life is pretty boring these days, with crossword puzzles, blogging and Brit-coms. I actually have a job outside of the house, but I need to get paychecks every two weeks like normal people. Fall is right around the corner, and I want some new clothes. I have to look good as I sit in front of the computer.

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I've joined a webring, or at least I submitted my blog for inclusion in a webring. It is for black women with blogs, but I have to wait to learn if I've been accepted. This is like applying for college. I should qualify, but I wonder if after reading my blog, they will think that I am a self-loathing oreo. I make fun of people a lot, and I find black people especially comical. I don't listen to Tom Joyner, I don't drive a nice car, I don't do church anymore, and I like British TV. How will that play to Urban America?

Stay tuned. Ciao!

Outrage of the Hour!

I got curious and decided to scroll through other blogs that were updated around the same time I updated mine, and I was attracted to one of those self-important "conservative conservative" titles. So I decided, what the heck, I've had some oat bran today (trust me, there is a definite link between this garbage and my morning Cheerios)...

So, this guy lists all the reasons why one might be a Democrat, and of course, they include the obligatory quip about liberal arts majors working at Starbucks, but then the rest of the reasons are narrow-minded and downright hostile. Of course on his alternative list, he rhapsodizes about God, guns, SUVs and why conservatives will inherit the Kingdom of God.

I hate self-righteous Republifu**s (my new term). They suck.

I won't even waste time debunking his list, because in the off chance that someone reads this, I refuse to even slightly endorse his blog. But I will say this, people who make lists about why they are so great and why others who disagree with them are stupid or lame should be careful not to protest too much, lest they be revealed as hypocrites. If you have to tell me how great you are, then maybe it means you need to spend less time talking and more time doing, so that people can see that greatness reflected in your actions.

And by the way, if you believe that guns, FOX news, and Wal-Mart are virtues, well then, thank God I'm not a Republifu**!

Hateration

That's not even a real word, but it does describe how I felt after dance class last night.

I'm hating my body and its limitations; hating the other dancers in the studio because of their limitations; and I'm totally hating the new woman with all that professional training who made every single one of us look bad.

Actually, she has challenged me to improve, in a way. After taking one class with this woman, I am going to do whatever it takes to get my leg as high as it can go, to get my feet to point as far as they can, and to get my body into the shape it was in back when I was a teenager. She made me feel old and creaky, and she is several years OLDER than me, but give me a bit of time, and I'll show her!

Makes me wonder what the heck have I been doing with my life all these years? I've been dancing since the age of nine, yet I doubt I ever had as much flexibility (or talent) as she did. Did I miss something? I rarely missed a class...so what is my problem?

Clearly, it is focus, and how I totally lack it. That is the story of my life.

Like now, I am supposed to be working on a cover letter for a job. I've done the letter and my resume is ready to go, but I need to update my references and instead, I am blogging about dance class and my potatoes. I did write the letter for another job for which I plan to apply, so I did accomplish something today. Now I just need to print it out and prepare it for mailing along with the letter I planned to mail to my client two weeks ago, and the other project for my old boss. Oh, and a few emails here and there concerning stuff I've been avoiding. Do you see a pattern here?

Yep. So I guess I'll get back to work...