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How They See Me
18 24 30 Sense of Place
32 34
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lETTER FROM So this is it. Volume two. The feeling is still so surreal after a year. Last
year was one filled with milestones for Femme Noire, from becoming a recognized organization to releasing our first issue. This year is one of reflection. Looking inwards at ourselves and our organization and really working to develop our mission and who we are. This issue is also one of reflection and looking inwards. All of the articles you will read are personal narratives that explore identity and breaking the binary. We explore transnational blackness and what it means to be black abroad versus in the United States. We raise a middle finger to labels and the stereotypes of the angry black woman. We encourage you to be your most authentic and carefree self through our cover stories. We draw inspiration from Cardi and Solange and embrace the limitless capacities of women of color. And then we go back to our roots of intersectionality and explore where one finds a sense of community when they share so many identities. This second issue means that we are still thriving and we weren’t just an idea, just some kids fooling around. You’re holding this magazine in your hand right now and that means you support us and you believe in us. And for that I will always be grateful. In the midst of all that is going on in this world I hope that this magazine brings you comfort. I hope that it encourages you and uplifts you, and that you’ll take more time to look inwards and reflect.
Here’s to volume two, Keturah Raymond
THE EDITORS Second round, here we go. The constant struggle of trying to live in color when life tries to box you in the black and white is what this issue explores-and why I’m proud of it. Being a minority in a white space isn’t easy, especially when you’re supposed to live your life according to how society tells you you should live. This issue is powerful because it outlines the narratives of people and encourages all who are boxed in to live outside the box and in color when you’re told to live in black and white. The duality of this world is unique, but we as people are even more unique. On that note, I don’t have much more to say but that we did that. I just want to thank all the people around me that hold me down. Y’all are real. Thanks to the amazing staff for pulling this together and speaking about issues that are necessary. Thanks to my co-editor in Chief Keturah for inspiring me more everyday. A final thanks to those who are reading this right now and picked up a copy. As the semester comes to an end, remember to breathe and continue to live your best life. All will be good in the end.
Peace and blessings. Jayla Goodloe
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Femme nOIRE | volume two | 7 Femme nOIRE | volume two | 7
ANGRY BLACK WOMAN yeah, we’re mad
Volda Appia-Kusi To be a black woman in America is to always feel as though your voice is not being heard, no matter how vocal you are. To constantly be told to, “Calm down,” or that “It’s not that serious.” To have your emotions and feelings downplayed, tossed aside, and straight up ignored in the workplace, academia, and social settings. Should you dare choose to show any emotion that is not happy or cheerful, you are hit with the age-old stereotype of being just another “angry black woman.” Unfortunately, this archetype of the “angry black woman” has been around a lot longer than one would expect. Its origins date all the way back to the early 1830s when minstrel performances were still around. The first
exposure many non-black Americans had to black women was in the form of a white man’s caricature of one. These men would use burned cork to put on black face in order to mock, taunt, and ridicule black women. It was through these performances they were able to shape the image of black women as unladylike and masculine; the complete antithesis to the “pure,” “innocent” image of white women. This concept became even more prevalent in the 1950’s with the popular television show “The Amos ’n’ Andy Show”. The show had a character named Sapphire, who was always nagging and yelling at her husband, who was portrayed as “dimwitted,” and “oblivious.” The show’s portrayal of Sapphire as an “angry
black wife” was one of the first portrayals of a black woman the American public had, and it helped to further perpetuate this stereotype. As time passes, it is clear that societal prejudices have not changed as evidenced by the countless number of black female celebrities in recent years who have fallen victim to this label. Take for example the case of rapper Nicki Minaj, who in her attempt to call out the MTV video music awards for misogyny, fell victim to intense media bashing, which all framed her as attacking Taylor Swift, a white pop artist on Twitter. In all the media coverage unflattering photos of Minaj yelling were placed next to calm, smiling images of Swift, even though not once did Minaj mention Swift in her tweets. Miley Cyrus, that year’s VMAs host, when asked about the “feud” in a separate interview chose to further blame Minaj, by saying, “‘There’s a way to talk to people...If you do things with an open heart and you come at things with love, you would be heard and I would respect your statement, but I don’t respect your statement because of the anger that came with it.’” By chalking up Minaj’s challenge of the award show system to simple “unnecessary” anger, and implying that had she spoken in a calmer way she would have been nominated, she completely erased Minaj’s point. What Cyrus did is a classic example of tone policing, a concept that fits hand in hand with the perpetuation of this stereotype. Tone policing, also called a tone argument, is “where an individual dismisses, ignores or minimizes a statement by claiming it is delivered too aggressively or in a confrontational manner.” In essence that person “polices” the other’s thoughts, feelings, and/or opinions. Too often black women, in particular, are on the receiving end of this policing when it comes to simply expressing their thoughts. The consistent tone policing of black women is problematic because it has directly lead to the invalidation of their emotions. Whenever black women express emotions that are not 100% positive they are automatically seen as “defensive” or “aggressive”. This in turn leads more black women to keep their emotions bottled up inside in an attempt to avoid the “angry black woman” label, which is very detrimental to their emotional and mental health. Essentially black women have had emotional limitations placed on them by the
larger society. Another reason that tone policing is hurtful is because it tells black women that in order for them to get heard they need to change themselves. Considering the various forms of the oppression they face, it is unfair that whenever black women try to bring up issues regarding these oppressions they are told they should “say it nicer” or “stop being so defensive”. Imagine how exhausting it is to have to continually live in a state of calmness in order for others to take you seriously whenever you have something important to say. It is extremely dehumanizing to always be told that you are not allowed to show emotions the same way that every single other race and gender are. For black women, a major part of navigating life is trying to live in a way that is least offending to others, so that they will listen and choose to include you in important discussions. No other race or gender has to deal with this “angry black woman” stereotype that permeates every single part of a black woman’s life, which just points to the strength and resilience that black women relentlessly show, despite all the many odds stacked against them. That is why it is important for black women to know that it is okay to be an “angry black woman”. To be an “angry black woman” is simply to just be a black woman who is angry, whether that anger is constant or occasional. To be an “angry black woman” is to allow your emotions to be felt and expressed despite knowing that society does not want you to have that freedom. Yes, black women are angry and they have every single right to be. In the words of the extremely wise Malcom X, “The most disrespected woman in America, is the black woman. The most un-protected person in America is the black woman. The most neglected person in America, is the black woman.” So black women go out and be angry, be happy, be sad, be whatever you feel, show society that as much as they may try you cannot be defined. Why? Because try as they may, it is impossible to put a label on ANY black woman.
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HOW THEY S Taking on the black identity in the United States is acknowledging the color of your skin.
In the United States, the only options for categorizing people are black, white and sometimes Hispanic - although it is an ethnicity. It is easier to group people into general categories for the purpose of collecting data, however this does not make it any less problematic. When I was filling out my SAT information, I was told to check the race category white as white was the category Arabs were supposedly assigned under. Ironically, when you take one look at me, you can tell I am definitely not white. However, I never considered myself as black either, but the unsettling nature of the racial binary in the United States made it so that I was suddenly categorized as a black girl. I felt very disconnected from this label. I still feel disconnected from this label and yet, it follows me around. When people first meet me they assume I am either Afro-Latina, black or mixed race (white/black), but none of these identities are my background. When I deny it, I usually get funny looks, as if I am trying to distance myself from my blackness, as if I am a self-hating black girl, whitewashed to better fit into American society. I recall a clear incident in which I was walking at the student organizations fair, and I walked passed a black affiliated organization. They called me over to talk about their purpose and I told them that they sounded really cool but being as they advertised themselves as a safe space for black people, I just wanted to clarify I was not black. Their attitude towards me switched within seconds. I could tell from their faces that they clearly thought I was black but that I did not want to be associated with the label. They never considered the fact, that American might not be the first identity I associate myself with. In fact, it is somewhere along
the end of the list. I did not grow up here, the only connection I have to this country is a blue passport I carry around. The Middle East is home to me. Zanzibar is home to me. We have very different ideas of what constitutes as black there. Most Americans, I’ve noticed, have a very introspective perception of the world. The ways things are in America, they assume are easily translated to the rest of the world. That mindset could not be more wrong. I am Yemeni, but my parents are third generation Zanzibaris (an umbrella term for all ethnic groups who claim Zanzibar as home). Two of my great grandmothers are Swahili and Somali, and that is where I get my curly hair and brown skin. So yes, I do have some blackness in me. My favorite physical features emphasize the births of my grandmothers and continued to flow through biological genetic make-ups until they reached me. The same physical features that seem to check off a racial box when a person glances over me. I am a quarter East African, and I proudly rep that. However, I would never refer to myself as African when I am in Zanzibar because I would be told to check myself. Thus, my identity has overlapping and complicated loops that lead to no specific answer. The culture on the island I call home is complicated in that Arabs, Indians and Africans have mixed for centuries. When I meet someone new, they immediately know I have Yemeni heritage by just one look at me. The distinctions between groups are easily noticeable for their trained eyes. Claiming the African identity would be problematic in this context. However, growing up in Saudi Arabia I faced two different reactions. Some people accepted the fact that I was Arab without questioning me further. Still, I did get raised eyebrows that
SEE ME more than
written by aHLam islam sought out a further explanation for my darker skin tone and hair texture. I can definitely say that I have benefitted and been oppressed from colorism. In the Middle East, I have faced discrimination for my darker skin tone, however in Zanzibar I am praised for my skin tone. I am deemed more beautiful, with my brown skin and looser curls. Taking on the black identity in the United States is more than acknowledging the color of your skin. An entire culture is linked to it in terms of music, clothing, hairstyles, and whilst I might relate to some aspects of this culture due to the African influences in my upbringing, they are inherently different. The experience of a black African is different from that of an African American. History is closely linked to a culture. The history of slavery, Jim Crow and institutionalized discrimination is not the history of my “blackness�. You will never catch me referring to my friend as the n-word, that is not my word to reclaim. I cannot link my upbringing to that of the black experience. Grouping all these identities under one umbrella category that is assumed to be homogenous is problematic. I guess the overarching theme is, whether I like it or not, I will continue to be categorized as black and face the discrimination that goes along with that label in the United States. The sad thing about race/ethnicity is that we have little agency on the labels ascribed to us.
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Visuals by kelli collins
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A RAISIN IN A SEA
OF MILK.
written by abbigail henry illustrated by olivia zimmerman
“When she gets married and has children, I am sure that her parents would want her children to be of a lighter skin color” – said an elderly white male professor to one of the two African American female students in his classroom at Syracuse University in September of 2017. It is 2017 and you are sitting in a discussion section or a lecture that ranges from 20 to 70 students, and the topic of race is brought up. You pause for the briefest second and look around forgetting to exhale. You understand that race is not a surface topic, one cannot discuss the high incarceration rates of African American males without first discussing institutionalized racism. You understand that there are different privileges and oppressions placed upon individuals when they are born depending on their identities and their family background that are out of their control. However, you also understand that not everyone is informed of this and that there are people who believe that minorities are inferior. You peer across the
room noticing the uncomfortable shifting in their seats, and you consider who will be an ally, and who will continue to perceive people of color in the stereotypes that are projected throughout the media and within society. In a predominately white institution such as Syracuse University one often finds themselves as the only person of color within the class or being one of a small handful of students. This is often a shock to the many students of color who throughout their educational experiences attended schools where they were in the majority. The Journal of Higher Education indicated that 70% of black students attended schools with more than 50% minority enrollment, with 36.5% of these students attending schools with a minority enrollment of 90-100%” (Taylor, 2004). The change in their environment exposes many individuals of color to instances of racism and microaggressions on their college campuses.
Racism does not have to be overt or explicitly announced. Microaggressions are present and prominent in many situations within and outside the classroom. Being the only person of color within a classroom at times imposes the mindset that the person of color must transcend their stereotypes. This aided with a white faculty member’s cultural insensitivity in generalizing student’s opinions in class as representing of all blacks is a hindrance to all (Guiffrida and Douthit, 2010). You are back in the classroom. Everyone is looking at you because you hold the identity in question. As an African American did you grow up poor? As an African American is your father present in your life? As an African American, do you know that African American women are the demographic that has the highest HIV rates in Syracuse, New York? Is that because your race is inherent-
ly uneducated? POC can only speak on their experience from their perspective and not on behalf of their entire race. If faculty members are conducting their classroom with the inclusion of negative stereotypes, whether consciously or not, minority students may become acutely uncomfortable, mistrustful, or demoralized (Taylor, 2004). Having discussions about race is not the issue being presented, but placing the person of color as the de facto PHD candidate on race relations becomes problematic. They are present within their classroom like all other students to learn, grow, and experience. Their identities are a part of them and shape their experiences, but it is theirs to share. Admitting students of color within a university means making a commitment to provide a safe place for them to learn. Â
Lastly, to my lovely and beautiful people of color within these walls, never forget that you are exceptional, and do not allow others to dim your magic.
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6 MOST IMPORTANT SEX TIPS FOR STUDYING ABROAD written by Callista mcmaye
1.
culture Be aware of the sexual culture of the city you are studying abroad. Some things that may be sexual taboos to you are completely the norm in other countries and vice versa. Don’t be afraid to experiment and bring some cool new stories and tips across the pond!
2. protection Always, always, ALWAYS, use protection. On the weekends, you never know what can go down, and you might get swept off your feet! Don’t let the lack of planning catch you off guard. Always have your emergency pack ready to go: your fave lipstick, a tampon, and a condom!
e f m i f e f m i f e f m i
3. spontaneity Be open to whatever! You’re only going to be young once, and who knows! You might meet the love of your life at kebab shop at 3 in the morning that knows a late night pub that is still poppin. Or a friendly barista at the local coffee shop that always looks at you like he wants to give you an extra special shot of caramel for free ;) 4. environment If you are under 21 and from the states, you probably haven’t had your fair chance to explore the differences between bars and clubs. Bars are a great way to meet people if you are looking for a chill night out with some great decor and loads of people and lots of spots to have intimate conversation. The clubs in Europe are insane and are a great place to dance for hours on end with multiple strangers and get blasted with neon lights and all types of music from electro, pop, hip hop, and heavy bass! 5. Technology The two apps that will save your sex life abroad are WhatsApp and City Mapper! Whether you need to get to the most poppin parts of town without pinching your pockets or catch that Tube ride back before class after a crazy night with your new, fine Frenchman, City Mapper is the way to go! It’s a great tool in general when you’re trying to navigate a new city. And girl, download WhatsApp. Literally nobody outside of America uses their phone plans to text and you’re going to be butt hurt when he doesn’t text you back. 6. safety Travel in groups! It’s easy to get overwhelmed by the new found freedom and exceptionally low drinking age that comes with studying abroad. Remember you are in an entirely new country, it’s important to keep you and your friends safe especially on nights out. Keep an eye on your drink, never walk home alone, and have a designated meeting point, especially in clubs!
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Europe Stirrup: Crazy stories from
across the pond
me for. me for. me for.
I went to this sort of summer carnival they were having in a huge park in London. It was the last day so it was crazy packed. As I walk past the food stands, I make eye contact with the most beautiful man I have ever seen. He’s got tattoos, perfect eyes and super tall. I grab some food from his stand and chat him up a bit, and he tells me he’s going back to Ireland the next day. I walk away and then immediately turn around and ask for his number. He texted me as soon as he got off work, we grab a drink and head to his place. Literally the best sex of my life, I’ll never forget him.”
-anonymous “My first week in Europe, I meet the chef at the bar that was a block away from my flat. He invited me on a picnic at Hampstead Heath park which was next level romantic. There was wine, berries, cheese, crackers, and tons of sunshine. After lunch, we decided to chill in the sunlight. He casually throws off his shirt off. Then his pants. I start freaking out because, you know, we’re in public! He says “This is Europe, nobody cares”. I took his word for it and long story short, we end up stripping down and one tickle led to a massage and then a kiss.. And you know the rest!”
-anonymous Femme nOIRE | volume two | 17 Femme nOIRE | volume two | 17
BREAKING Written by ivana pino pHOTO BY OHEMAA DIXON
the BINARY
As a first-generation Cuban-American, I’ve often found myself “living in the hyphen” and struggling to defy Latina stereotypes despite my very American up-bringing. There are so many stereotypes that surround Latinas, from broken English, a lack of education, fiery personalities, high sex-drives and the list goes on. As a Latina in a black and white word, living in the gray area leaves little room for understanding about who I am. Being a Latina can mean a number of things and none of those traits, features or lived experiences make you any more or any less Latina.
I embrace my Cuban culture, it taught me to love my roots and the people who make me, me. But, as a woman of color in a white world, learning to embrace both identities can be difficult. At times it felt as though grappling with being too Hispanic for some groups and too “white-washed” for others made it difficult to find a niche where both of those identities could be appreciated and celebrated. I don’t fall within one strict definition, I am a proud Latina but I am also American, and these identities are a joint definition of who I am. As a Latina, people often expect a certain kind of woman. Tan skin, dark hair, curves and a hot-head personality are just some of the typical traits that Latinas “should” have. The problem with this is that a Latina can look like just about anything and their personalities are unique to them as well. So many celebrities have been criticized for identifying as Latinas, but what makes a Latina a Latina is subjective. Some Latinas speak Spanish and have thick thighs, brown hair, tan skin and curvy features. Some Latinas are more slender with lighter skin, blue eyes and blonde hair. Stereotypes create a box around an entire culture and create a narrow understanding of what being a Latina means. Growing up, I can’t even begin to count the number of times that I was told I “spoke English like a white person,” or that I “sounded so white.” I was always confused by this because I wondered why anyone would think
otherwise considering I was born and raised in the United States. It led me to believe that being Latina meant that speaking proper English was a foreign concept. People made it seem as though “sounding white” was a compliment or some sort of accomplishment as though I had mastered masking my identity and covering it up with something that sounded more acceptable to others. Being a Latina doesn’t have to be a hindrance to your education or speech, and having an accent shouldn’t automatically bind you to a stereotype or open the door for more assumptions about your intelligence. For any Latina, especially one on a predominantly white college campus, the words “exotic” or “fiery” will make your skin crawl. More often than not, Latinas are hypersexualized and while all Latinas are beautiful and have unique features, “exotic” should only be used to describe plants or zoo animals. Latin cultures are so much more than what’s on the surface and they should be appreciated in a respectful way, not tainted by ignorance. A large contributor to this conversation is the way Latinas are represented in the media. If every television-show or movie portrays Latinas as lusty, sex-crazed characters or cleaning ladies, people are bound to hang on firmly to those depictions. There is nothing wrong with being in-tune with your sexuality, and domestic workers are some of the most hard-working individuals in this country who are underappreciated and often underpaid as is. But anyone can be either of these things and they should not be reserved solely for women of color. Having a multi-faceted identity is a complex thing, made only more difficult by persistent stereotypes that allow others to tell you who they think you should be, or what you should look or act like. Stereotypes only exist to make others comfortable, and in a black and white world, you should feel empowered to live comfortably and confidently in your own identity. Femme nOIRE | volume two | 19
BREAKING Written by ABIGAIL COVINGTON pHOTO BY OHEMAA DIXON
the BINARY
Black womanhood is one of the most amazing gifts I’ve ever received. Being part of a community where our skin soaks up sunlight to produce radiance and our hair rejects the laws of gravity to grow upwards is mesmerizing. Black womanhood means I am esteemed amongst a lineage of world-changers that have continuously redefined life as we know it. As much as I am liberated in my black womanhood, I am restricted by the constraints of societal understandings of my positionality.
Amidst the triumphs and victories of black womanhood are the trials and tribulations that run parallel to it. I’ve got to deal with folks always trying to touch my hair, finding patience for the micro-aggressions I hear on a daily basis, and putting on a smile to go into the world although happiness is the furthest thing from my mind. Being Superwoman to people inside and outside of my community can be a burden. It’s all a constant grind and struggle to maintain composure and fit into the box society places around me. The mold of the box has not been created to adapt to my body, my culture, or my history. It’s restrictive. It tells me I have two choices about everything. Republican or Democrat. Man or Woman. Gay or Straight. Black or White. For some reason the culture of this nation refuses to allow anyone to exist outside of the two extremes it creates. There is no sense of spectrum. One either is, or is not. There’s no room for a mixture of elements, opinions, characteristics, or aspects of both sides. To that I say, FUCK THAT! Who is allowed to consolidate one’s sense of self into a bubble, categorize it, codify it, and then throw it into a system? It’s not human, fair, or sensible. We are in a time where young people of col-
or are challenging the systems and constructs that they live in. They’re raising questions that create abrasion between those in power and those suffering from the oppression from those in power. Leading the charge are young women of color; loud, proud, brave, and free, as they should always be. Women of color should be allowed to exist in their intersectionality without excusing themselves or providing verification for doing so. If you’re a black girl who loves doing her twistouts while listening to alternative rock, you can do that sis! If you’re a black trans-woman who uses her experience to shed light on the injustices of other trans people of color, you can do that sis! If you’re a nerdy Afro-Latina that loves comic books but also enjoys trap music before class, you can do that sis! If you’re a boss, about-her-business, no games kind of woman who also enjoys wine nights while blaring Beyoncé songs in your apartment, you can do that too sis!
We are allowed to exist, take up space, do the things that make us happy, and be free. Period. But the allowance of that comes from freeing ourselves. We have to allow each other to be whole and heard in this ridiculously messed up world. Breaking the binary of society will not come from the binaries themselves, but rather from the oversaturation of those who exist within the spectrum of the binary. Fluidity is understood when those who are static on their opinions or in their identities become outnumbered and outweighed. That takes time to produce. In the meantime, we have to allow each other and ourselves to be radical in our black selflove. Loving beyond boundaries, labels, and quite frankly, understanding. The dichotomy of black womanhood cannot be broken if we internalize it and bind each other to it. When you don’t know, ask. If you still don’t understand, love anyway as you begin to figure it out. Throw away the labels society gives you and ascribe to defining yourself, on your terms, how you would like to. We have to be willing to take the risk of being labeled “rev-
olutionary”. Radical black self-love is a revolutionary act. It takes guts to be loud, proud, and black. Throw one’s womanhood on top of that, and you have created societal nonconformists. In order to live and exist in this day and age, that’s what we have to be. This composition begins with words from Ntozake Shange. My sincerest hope is that we can conquer that statement. Begin to live in our own truths. That’s when we’ll truly live our “best lives”. That’s when we’ll have radical black-self love. That’s when we’ll genuinely be free. Go get free sis!
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Visuals by kelli collins
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CONFESSIONS OF AN INTROVERT CONFESSIONS OF AN INTROVERT CONFESSIONS OF AN INTROVERT CONFESSIONS OF AN INTROVERT CONFESSIONS OF AN INTROVERT CONFESSIONS OF AN INTROVERT CONFESSIONS OF AN INTROVERT
It is 11:47 pm. Today is Saturday, the day that races through the minds of every college student throughout the entire week. To me, it’s just another day. A day where nothing is expected of me. A day where getting out of bed simply means heading to the kitchen for another bowl of ice cream, and to the bathroom shortly after. Right now, the sun is in a deep state of sleep, while the moon is wide awake. Nighttime has taken over, and unlike my parents, I’m expected to be up past midnight, on my way to a pregame or at the least, applying a fresh new coat of gloss, heading out the door to a snapchat-advertised event. Contrary to my parents, I’m tucked away in my bed as the sky grows dark, waiting for the weekend to expire. I don’t normally see the moon that often; many of my nights typically end before the sun gets tired.
TYLER M HOWCOTT
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CONFESSIONS OF Most weekends I find myself in my room, alone. The morning after, I find myself scrolling down on Instagram, only to see how much fun everyone had the night before, oftentimes wishing I was in one of those snaps, posing in a cute black dress and four-inch heels. On a rare occasion, when you do find me out at a party, I’ll probably be somewhere off to the side, phone in hand, not paying attention to the songs that I don’t know the lyrics too. Social scenes are my least favorite. I often feel out of place or socially awkward.
When I first came to college, making dinner for and by myself, binge-watching television shows, and staying in is all my Friday and Saturday nights would consist of. I have always been quiet around people I don’t know. I keep to myself and don’t speak unless spoken to. Unless you’re one of the few I’ve known since elementary school, you may never experience my goofy behavior. I never felt comfortable going up to anyone and starting a conversation. I don’t know them, so, why would I talk to them? All my current friendships started with the other person approaching me, making the first move. This is the way I’m used to starting new relationships. This isn’t me trying to say that I’m special or too important to engage with other people, I just don’t feel comfortable initiating relationships. Honestly, it’s difficult for me to start a conversation. It seems like there’s just so much thought put into making new friendships, which I realized could be overthinking, but this is me. “What should I say?” “How do I say it?” So much anxiety runs through my body just at the mere thought of starting a conversation with someone new. This is who I am. When I walk into a room and I’m quiet, people tend to take my silence
the wrong way. Reading the silence that takes over my personality as an attitude or even stuck up; when I just don’t feel like I belong. I’m not mean nor am I aloof, I just feel awkward around those I don’t know yet.
Not approaching people first, worked for a while, until I came to Syracuse. When I got here, I found it hard to click with anyone. My roommate was from here, so she already had her group of friends. We hung out a lot but it’s hard to find your place in a group of girls that has already been established. I told myself I would soon find my friend group. I gave up on that idea once I realized that the culture here is different from that of my hometown. It didn’t take long for me to see that most of the girls of color at this school are from New York City. Now, nothing is wrong with New York City. It’s just that people from the city are more diverse because they come from a melting pot. I’m from Atlanta, so if you ask a girl what she is she’ll just respond “Black”. Whereas, the girls of color at this school may say “I’m Caribbean” or “Puerto Rican”. Black culture in Atlanta is completely different than that in New York City. Atlanta culture is trendy-new hair styles, music, and southern meals. Being Black in New York City can mean many things; it can mean you’re Trinidadian, Panamanian, Jamaican or even a combination. Being black in Atlanta however is just one thing; it’s black. Of course, people come from different background and but as a city, ethnic diversity in Atlanta isn’t as widely represented as it is in New York City. I wasn’t used to these responses prior to attending Syracuse University. In fact, I hadn’t even been exposed to the vast amount of different cultures and because of this I soon began to feel a divide. There are groups on campus like CSA or Latina sororities that girls in my class are a part of, girls I saw myself being friends with.
F AN INTROVERT Going to school at a predominately white institution, I sometimes feel out of place. My expectation was that all the girls of color would gravitate towards one another, but to be honest I feel more of a connection with the white student population than I do with these girls. I’m not Caribbean so why would I join CSA? I wouldn’t. I didn’t. I won’t. Mix this with being an introvert and you might see why I still have no friends. I know girls in these organizations, I say hi to them on campus while walking to class, but our communication ends there. I don’t feel like I relate to these girls because they share the same culture. A culture I didn’t uncover until I got to Syracuse. A culture I will never claim. People from New York City are exposed to many different cultures. They speak multiple languages, fluently. I’ve overheard girls on campus carrying on conversations in Spanish. Lo siento, no hablo español; this must mean we won’t ever be friends. It’s like trying to squeeze your feet into a size 5 pair of heels, when you know you wear a size 8. For me, this is how it feels trying to fit into a cluster of girls that share an understanding of different cultures. I felt a divide among myself and people from NYC the minute I got to Syracuse. I want to know more about their background, but my introvert personality keeps me from doing so. It keeps me from asking the questions that might have sparked a deeper relationship. Sometimes I wish I could say my parents are from a different country. Sometimes I wish I grew up in New York City. Other times, I just wish I had an extrovert personality. I wanted these things because I wanted to fit in. It took a while, but I realized I don’t have to be any of those things to find my place, to feel included. So, this semester I have become involved with several different
organizations on campus; stepping outside of my shell. No more going straight home after class and work. Now, I’m barely home and I love that. I see people, I’m meeting new people and creating relationships with people that will last me beyond my college years. I would say that I’m loving the new me, but it’s not that I’m a new person, I have just learned new things about myself. It took a lot out of me, but stepping out of my shell has made me see how much I’ve been missing. I’m not going to lie to you and end this by saying college magically turned me into an extrovert. Coming to Syracuse made me realize I have an introverted personality and helped me to understand what that meant. That doesn’t make me weird or incapable of building relationships. It doesn’t make me any less of a person. It does make me different, but there’s so much power in being different. I see that now. The word introvert is a part of me. I own that, I am that. I love staying to myself. I love making dinner by and for myself. I love catching up on my shows and staying in on a Saturday night. I do, however, realize I need to start reaching out to people more. I should be initiating conversations and hanging out with friends, occasionally. It’s hard but honestly, this mentality has helped me grow. I found a balance between being myself and enjoying my college years. You still won’t find me out every weekend but you may see me at a football game tossing t-shirts to the hundreds of Syracuse football fans in the dome. So, no college did not change me, it simply showed me who I am. I am awkward at almost every social event I attend. I am quiet around people I don’t know. I am capable of starting conversations, leading to friendships with girls of different ethnicities. I am strong, funny, diligent, and confident. I am an introvert in college. Femme nOIRE | volume two | 27
Visuals by kelli collins
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and Carefree with Solange and Cardi B
BLACK By: Olivia Zimmerman
Solange is is chicken soup soul. Solange soup for forthe theblack blackgirl girl soul. She’s like like the while s yyou She’s the older oldersister sisterwho whoholds holds you while you cry, cry,who whotells tellsyou youitsitsokay okaytotocry, cry,something someyou thing girls blackdon’t girls hear don’toften. hear often. Her songs black Her songs tell you tell youofstories when was your andshe stories when of she wasshe your age andage how how she cried too, how everything will be just cried too, how everything will be just fine with fine with time. And you believe her, because time. And you believe her,the because there’swith somethere’s something about conviction thing the conviction with which she sings whichabout she sings but also the calmness in her but also the calmness in her voice, the knowledge voice, the knowledge that comes with coming that comes with coming to peace with yourself. to peace with yourself. At some point, we allpoint, look we at Solange envy At some all lookwith at Soat howwith someone be so completely lange envy can at how someone can and be souncompletelyherself and unabashedly herselfway. in evabashedly in every possible She’s ery kind possible way.other She’sblack the kind otherfun the of girl girls of gotgirl made black madeand funartsy, of for weird of for girls being:got weird thebeing: manifestation and artsy, the manifestation of the “carefree of the “carefree black girl” in its original sense. blacktea girl” in its original sense. practicing, The tea drinkThe drinking, mindfulness inteling, mindfulness practicing, intellectual lectual black girl that we all aspire to beblack (somegirl that we all aspire to be (sometimes), so times), so we put on A Seat at the Table on rewe put on A Seat at the Table on repeat, light peat, someand candles, andtopretend to meditate. somelight candles, pretend meditate. And yet, whenever hear those secAnd yet, you whenever you first hear few those onds of the beat to “Bodak Yellow”, the energy first few seconds of the beat to “Bodak Yel- in the room andinmeditation goes out winlow”, theshifts energy the room shifts andthe meddow. It’sgoes irresistible; desire to yell at the top of itation out thethe window. It’s irresistible; your lungs to “Said youofcan’t with me if the desire yelllil atbitch the top yourf*ck lungs “Said lil bitch youto” can’t f*ck with me if you wanted you wanted overcomes whatever emotion preto” overcomes previously viously consumedwhatever you. For emotion those 3 minutes and 44 consumed those 3 minutes andno44 seconds, youyou. trulyFor are the baddest b*tch and one seconds, truly are theisbaddest b*tch andB. can tell youyou otherwise. Such the power of Cardi no women one can oftellcolor you and otherwise. Such as is the As particularly black power of Cardi B. women, we often package ourselves to be more As women of color and particularly refined. We police our speech: our tone of voice, as black women, we often package ourselves volume, andrefined. topic of to fight to be more Weconversation police our speech: ourthe stereotype that Black women are loud and tone of voice, volume, and topic of conversa-angry. is stereotype not that black girl. She is untion Cardi to fightBthe that Black women apologetically a “regular-degular-shmegular are loud and angry. Cardi B is not that blackgirl from the Bronx”. She is loud, ashe doesn’t speak girl. She is unapologetically “regular-deg“proper” English, shethedoesn’t care ular-shmegular girland from Bronx”. Sheabout is loud, anyone she doesn’t speak “proper” what thinks about that. English, Good orand bad, she doesn’t about anyone thinksby Cardi speaks care what’s on what her mind. Which, about that. Good or bad, Cardi speaks what’s definition, makes her a carefree black girl, right? on her mind. Which, by definition, makes her a carefree black girl, right? A Google search of “carefree black
girl”A returns with big curly Googleimages searchofofgirls “carefree black girl” re flower-adorned eclectic print- flow turns imageshair of wearing girls with big curly ed clothes. Youhair don’t see girls like printed Cardi B, er-adorned wearing eclectic clothes girlsYou whodon’t wear asee different wig for eachB,day of wh girls like Cardi girls the wear week aand nails so long be wee different wig forthey eachshouldn’t day of the practical. But those girls can be carefree black and nails so long they shouldn’t be practica girls too. But those girls can where be carefree girls too In this world being black a woman this black worldmeans where being beingdefined a woman and bein andInbeing by how being defined by how you carry your youblack carrymeans yourself, there’s a tendency to cateself,You there’s tendency categorize. You can b gorize. canabe bougie, to you can be ghetto, bougie, be ghetto, or you be you a carefre or you canyou be can a carefree black girl,canbut black girl, But but you pick.and ButSolange, just like Card have to pick. justhave like to Cardi black areblack so much more than com andwomen Solange, women arecomplex so much more the plex categories in categories which they’re placed. Eachplaced than the in which they’re woman necessary to understanding and cel- an Eachiswoman is necessary to understanding ebrating the magic that is black womanhood. celebrating the magic that is black womanhood The reality that Solange andare CarThe reality is that is Solange and Cardi not tw di are not two sides of the black girl coin sides of the black girl coin but rather, theybut are ver rather, they are very much the same. We knew much the same. We knew Solange was not one t Solange was not one to mess with when she mess withbeat whenher shebrother-in-law’s infamously beat her brother-in infamously behind law’s behindBut in an weBalso see Card in an elevator. weelevator. also see But Cardi crying B crying on her Instagram stories because on her Instagram stories because she can beshe ca be emotional, too. Being carefree is not dictated b emotional, too. Being carefree is not dictated in in thethe value you hav by your outward outwardappearance. appearance.It’s It’s value being yourself. Just as Solange i youinhave in authentically being authentically yourself. Just as Solange is unapologetically Cardi unapologetically artsy, Cardi artsy, is unapologetical is unapologetically and those ly wild, and thosewild, qualities make qualities them carefree make them carefree. is not one box or the other, bou Black womanhood nota one box or it is gie or Black ghetto,womanhood it’s not evenison spectrumthe the other, bougie orofghetto, even expeon a culmination shared it’s andnot personal spectrumit is the culmination of shared and riences, who you are as an individual. You personal experiences, who you are as an inare still a Carefree Black Girl, whether dividual. You are still a Carefree Black Girl, you prefer Green tea or Hennessy. whether you prefer Green tea or Hennessy. Whether you’re more like Cardi Whether you’re more like Cardi B or Solange, B or Solange, or a little bit or a little bit of both, your existence is valid both, your existence andofunique. is valid and unique.
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femme noire magazine | volume one | 17
When you share more than one identity, Where do you find community? Written by Tajanae harris I remember being five years old and learning how to sign the alphabet. In those days, I knew how to spell my name and sign a few basic words. Fast forward a few years and every weekday morning I would watch my middle school teacher sign the lyrics to every song we sang during morning devotional. One afternoon I learned about Braille and Helen Keller. Since then I have only learned “I want to know more sign language” in ASL; and I can only brush my fingers across braille in admiration. I can’t tell you anything about the social / cultural experiences of other impaired communities. When some people think of students with disabilities, they think of those with learning differences (ADD, ADHD, dyslexic, etc). Those students blend seamlessly into our communities and conversations, and we hear all sorts of fun facts about how some of the greatest minds ever had learning differences. But what about those students who do not walk, talk, see, hear, or move like the rest of us? Disability is a sort of catch-all, umbrella term that applies to people with a whole range of experiences. Does this term really give a sense of community to everyone it involves? If not, where do disabled people find community? I talked to Naomie Villaba, a deaf sophomore majoring in Psychology here at
SU, about her experience. She says that she’s never had problems making friends when she puts her heart and mind into it, but sometimes group conversations can be hard. “I, most times have a hard time trying to speak for myself when I don’t understand the topic they are talking about because I don’t want to intrude the conversation while people are laughing or saying something serious.” In those instances. Her hearing aid helps her navigate through some of grey areas of spoken language. The campus community is as open and accepting as it can be, but sometimes she takes comfort in not having to explain herself to her fellow hearing-impaired friends or worry that she’s missing out on part of the conversation. Priya Penner, meanwhile, has a physical disability that requires her to use a motorized wheelchair to get around, which is much more visible. She was born with arthrogryposis, a condition that causes a fusing of joints. She admits feeling as concerned about making friends on campus as any other freshman; but at the same time knowing that if she could just find the disability community here, she would be okay. Now, as a sophomore and president of the
, Disability Student Union, she spends a lot of time within the disability community because that group accepts all aspects of her identity. Sadly, the same cannot be said for other communities, campus or nation-wide. For example, Priya, as a queer woman of color, would like to be more involved with the LGBT Resource Center, but says it is physically inaccessible to her. She says that she and a lot of other students try to be involved as much as possible with other aspects of their identity without having to be physically on-site. Nationally, the lack of disability inclusion is even worse. As a very involved disability activist and member of several disability rights organizations, Priya has encountered lots of instances where marches and protests were not accessible, or only were so because of the demands of fellow disability activists. “I went to the Women’s Rights March in New York City,” said Priya. “You can imagine how inaccessible that was.” Not only can I imagine it, I have already seen the disparity in smaller ways across campus. One day, out of curiosity, I stopped for a tour of the Disability Cultural Center. It is a
small office, no bigger than the average first floor of a South Campus apartment. While there, I could not help but notice how much care had gone into not only the construction but, also the programming of that office. Adjustable lights, tables, and an array of supportive chairs filled the lounge area. On the walls hung posters from DCC’s past intersectional events, with collaborators ranging from OMA, the LGBT Resource Center, to Orange After Dark. The library shelves contained books about disability as well as books about how disability relates to any other identifier. At the event Diane Wiener, Director of DCC, made an effort to sign ASL as she spoke. After leaving the DCC open house, I realized that Priya was right: there are no other spaces on campus that are quite this inclusive. Part of it is the cost; but Priya also thinks it is just partially due to a lack of information. “When it comes to disability inclusive programming, I encourage presidents of other orgs to think of physical accessibility but also think beyond that,” she said. Things as simple as speaking clearly or using mics in a large event can go a long way to making disabled students feel like the entire campus is their community.
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Visuals by kelli collins
THANK YOU Ohemaa Dixon Kelli Collins Marissa Willingham Nakira Christmas Kessia Garnett Nordia Mullings Brianna Herrera Stacy Fernandez Denisse Reyes Aminata Sanogo Sophia Jactel Samoya Ricketts Khianna Calica Valerie Martinez Oneysha Brown All Readers and Supporters WOMEN WORLDWIDE
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