Femme Noire Volume 1. Issue 5.
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Nia D'Emilio. I am a Senior Religion Major from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. I like feminism, respect, and One Direction. My passion is performing, but I try to write sometimes. Like the stuff you see here. I reflected on myself, the stuff I see around me, and my idol,
Nicki Minaj. William Hamilton I am a Junior Women and Gender Studies Major (Queer Studies Concentration) from South Carolina. In my time at Denison I have been active in many artistic and theatrical endeavors, including being a part of the Denison Genital Monologues for all three years of my Denison career. Though my social consciousness is recently developed, I do my best to
Graciella Maiolatesi I am a Senior Black Studies and Dance Double Major from Massachusetts. A Queer-Black-Feminist, my current research uses choreographic methods to work through and discover the Eroticism of The Black-Female Identity. As a Black Feminist I have come to realize that my survival depends on my choosing courage over fear, and always, always, daring to be.
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Why Do I Need Black Feminism? Graciella Maiolatesi
I need Black Feminism because black women are still seen as objectified parts, not as a whole being. I need Black Feminism so that I can ignore the labels that society attempts to place on me daily, as I attempt to give meaning and a name to how I identify. I need Black Feminism because it does not make me choose between my intersecting identity as a Queer-Black-Female. I need Black Feminism because joking about rape culture is still too prominent of a reality. I need Black Feminism because it has given me a voice when so many of my black sisters have historically been silenced. I need Black Feminism to keep me sane in the current turmoil that our country and world is in. I need Black Feminism because it recognizes that there is a difference in connotation by saying “#BlackLivesMatter” vs. “#AllLivesMatter.”
I need Black Feminism because Donald Trump cannot be president. I need Black Feminism because Lorde, hooks, Walker, Angelou, Morrison, Hurston, Hansberry, Truth, Murray, Chin, and Collins cannot be the only ones who use the pen as a sword. I need Black Feminism because so many innocent black lives are currently incarcerated. I need Black Feminism because too many little black girls are taught daily that they are ugly, worthless, and unintelligent.
4 FEMME NOIRE I need Black Feminism because black boys are starting to believe that they won’t live past twenty-five. I need Black Feminism because the murders of black trans men and women are going unnoticed. I need Black Feminism because it allows me to choose courage over fear. I need Black Feminism because it is what so many people have died for.
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Brief Timeline of 2015 Will Hamilton
Note: This is not intended to be definitive or exhaustive, but to showcase some of the important societal events from the year.
6 FEMME NOIRE to them. And when other people join in and
latter By: William Hamilton
speak their own experiences, it becomes a way for people to know that they are not alone, that they are not the only people that have had this
news outlets and
experience. Thinking back across this year,
online social spaces, I have often heard people
hashtags such as “#DrivingWhileBlack” served
bemoan online activism, calling it “slack-tivism”
as a way for people of color to share the ways
and other such terms, criticizing some sort of
that their lives have been affected by
laziness supposedly inherent in the act of
systematic racism, as well as a way to show the
speaking out across social media platforms and
rest of the world that this is not a singular
other online media. I can’t help but see this kind
person’s problem, but something that affects a
of blatant understating of this kind of action as
nationwide community.
a part of the all too common misunderstanding
of the relationship between people, technology, and activism. Coming out and saying that posting on Facebook or making hashtags on Twitter in an effort to speak out against injustice is “lazy” is to completely ignore the bigger picture of what this kind of action entails. Sure, it may be easy and convenient to imagine people sitting at home on their computers making these posts and then going on with their lives same as they were, but thinking that online activism starts and ends with one Tweet is a refusal to think deeper.
the implication that
online activists are “lazy” because they only post about it online and do nothing else shows that same failure of understanding. Not everyone has the ability to go out into their surroundings and community and speak out physically. For example, if there is a protest happening, the fact that someone is showing their support online and not in person is not inherently “lazy” or “not enough”. The truth is, people face situations where it may be dangerous for them to express their support of a cause in “real life” due to family and community pressure, people may not be able to
, the impetus for
afford to take time off from work to be
online activism does not appear out of thin air.
physically present, people may have disabilities
When someone creates a hashtag or starts a
and conditions that prevent them from being
blog, it happens in relation to something that
able to mobilize in the same ways as other
they have experienced in their lives that is true
FEMME NOIRE 7 people might. This does not make them any less “real� of a protester or an activist.
there has been
so much protest and mobilization of activism around the country, from the continued efforts of the Black Lives Matter movement to the onthe-ground reporting and documentation of police brutality that has been all too common, to the efforts of Concerned Student 1950 and the Million Student March. For so many of these situations I and thousands of others across the country have only been able to express our support online and in our personal communities. We may have not been able to be present at sites of conflict, we may not have been able to join Million Student Marches, or attend rallies to end racial injustice on college campuses, but we showed our support in the ways available to us. For me, that means speaking out on the media available to me, and the networks that I am a part of. In that way, I am able to join my voice with the voices of others and show people that things are in need of change.
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An Ode To Nicki Minaj So I wrote this paper about you And Drake and Wayne. And it’s made me realize That you’re my hero. “Queen Nicki” That’s what you call yourself in “Bang, Bang.” You’re not wrong, Nicki. You are a queen. You are my queen. Here’s why. I remember the first time I heard you rap. It was in “Bottoms Up” by Trey Songz. You asked him to buy you a bottle of rose. I can only imagine he did. The last line you spit in the song Is one that you really have to listen for: “I’m Roman.” Yes, Nicki. In addition to being Nicki, You are Roman as well. You were a girl Who was a boy Who was a girl Before anyone had any vocabulary To discuss the complex identity
Of gender. You were crazy, And we loved every second of it. Then you dropped Pink Friday. When my best friend Who’s gay, Jewish, and weighed 100 pounds Was finding his voice in “Super Bass” I knew that was it. You were a rock/pop/rap/R&B goddess. “I’m still the highest selling female rapper for the record” Yes, Nicki. You beat Li’l Kim, Queen Latifah, and Missy Elliot. But like you said one time: You’re not a female rapper, You’re just a rapper. Yes, Nicki. You’re changing the game, One massive hit at a time. So let’s talk about “Anaconda.” Don’t ask me why you didn’t get All the nominations for that video. My favorite part is when you cut the banana in half. As if to say, “Fuck the patriarchy. Lemme cut this dick in half.” Ever notice, Nicki, how all your haters are white people? Taylor and Iggy Even Miley, too. I think they’re scared by Whatever threat they perceive
FEMME NOIRE 9 In your Blackness. But they don’t realize that You Are paving the way For any kind of female artist To write her own music And be herself. You’re the pioneer, Nicki. Apologies on behalf of white girls, Who don’t know what the fuck they’re talking about. Cause you’re a genius, Nicki. You’re a successful and strong Black woman. And I hate that you’re punished for that. You’re not an angry black woman Because you stand up for yourself and your music. You’re an artist who’s snubbed, And you just react accordingly. You are a rapper A singer A writer An actor A dancer A motivational speaker An entrepreneur A woman Black. I love you, Nicki. And I don’t want to put you in an awkward position. Because you don’t have to be the queen of music or art. You don’t have to be the SBW.
You don’t have to keep defending yourself against stupid white girls. Because being who you are is why you’re Nicki Minaj. And I don’t want to be a white girl Who’s telling you what to do Or who to be. I just really look up to you, And I want to express that. I hope you never feel the pressure of the SBW That Joan Morgan talks about. It’s because you’re so weird and creative and wonderful That I love you. Keep doing you.
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Rachel Dolezal: Why? Antonia D’Emilio
My brother just started law school in Oklahoma, and he was really pumped about it. He rarely ever calls me, but he felt the need to give me a ring early in his semester just to tell me how great it was. We talked for an hour about how his classes were so easy and how law school was a breeze (my brother LIVES for school), and then he asked me what I was taking this semester. “I’m taking this class called ‘Black Feminist Thought’ that I’m really excited about.” “Oh, god.” A predictable answer from my brother. He’s one of the few graduates of Oberlin College I know that couldn’t care less about social justice. Or feelings. “I give it three
days before your professor brings up Rachel Dolezal.” “Why would she bring up Rachel Dolezal. I’d hope that in a class about Black women, we’d be talking about actual Black women.” “Oooooh.” Read this as sort of a “burn” noise. This conversation came on the tails of this huge fight my brother, sister-in-law, and I had this summer, when Rachel Dolezal and her “blackness” were flooding every news outlet and became the subject of so many conversations among my friends on Facebook. “She’s transracial.” That’s what my sister-in-law said. “That’s not a thing!” That’s what I yelled through the phone, watching for any kind of facial reaction that I could pick up through FaceTime. “Why can’t she be transracial? Why can people like Bruce Jenner be transgender but she can’t be transracial?” My sister-in-law is from Oklahoma. “Oh my god,” I said exasperated. I’ve never gotten in a fight with her before. I idolize her, and here we were, fighting about identity. What a nightmare. “Babe, it’s different,” said my brother. “Why? Why is it different?” “Because gender is a social construct. Race is not.” Shout out to Denison for teaching me this shit. This argument I made (with nothing to back it up) was echoed by Darnell L. Moore, who wrote a similar sentiment in his article about Dolezal in Mic. He said that while “racial
FEMME NOIRE 1 1 divisions” may be a social construct, “‘skin color is hereditary’” (Moore qtd. in Blay). Gender, on the other hand, is not hereditary. Gender is, in fact, a social construct. While one is born with certain reproductive parts, this does not define one’s gender, and in some cases, those parts may be changed to match someone’s gender. Rachel Dolezal is doing something that no Black person can do, or really any person can do. You can’t change your skin color. And yet, somehow, Rachel Dolezal did that. She successfully convinced a bunch of people, white and black, that she was black. So I have two questions: 1. How? 2. Am I Rachel Dolezal? To address the first question, I’m not sure that I know. Neither did Kara Brown when she wrote her Jezebel article, “I Have Questions About That White Lady Who Maybe Pretended to be Black.” The question she kept asking was, “Girl, what?” This query was made several times between questions that wondered about how her NAACP chapter didn’t know she was white and Dolezal’s ability to do Black hair (Brown). What does it mean that a white woman masqueraded as a Black woman for years? This is more than just a common occurrence of blackface. This is insulting to an entire culture and identity. To put yourself in someone else’s shoes so literally isn’t cool, not to mention a little creepy. And it’s hard to imagine that someone would go to such great lengths to assimilate to such a culture. Still, like Allison Samuels said in her Vanity Fair article, Dolezal was adamant that it wasn’t a trick or a joke (Samuels). She really did identify as a Black person, even though she was white. And while Rachel Dolezal is definitely not Black, and most people think she’s a little crazy, it’s hard to argue with stubborn people. It’s
hard to tell someone they’re not who they’re absolutely sure that they are. So then does this become an issue about mental health rather than misappropriated racial identity? I don’t think so. Maybe Dolezal was legit just trying to do what she thought was right, and while she was deeply misguided in her actions, her intentions may just have been okay. Maybe Rachel was just trying to be a good ally in the best way that she knew how to be. And this brings me to my second question: Am I Rachel Dolezal? First, I can say that I’m definitely not, mostly because I’m just not her at all. But also, I would never claim an identity that wasn’t really mine, then change parts of my physical appearance to match the identity I’m saying that I am. That’s crazy and wrong. But I do want to be an ally. My intersectional feminism cries for me to be an ally to Black people, especially during this era. But I don’t ever want to seem like I’m “trying to be Black” or like I even understand what the Black experience is like. Because I don’t. I have no idea. So how can I be a good ally? How can I stand with Black people without taking away from their own momentum and drive? So I’m not Rachel Dolezal. But I am an ally, and I want to help. I just don’t always know how to do it. And I’d give some answers, but I really don’t have them. Perhaps taking Black Feminist Thought/Womanism as a white girl was a step in the right direction, though.
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We Are Numbered Graciella Maiolatesi They said I was supposed to Reflect On this semester of my black thoughts Turned into feminism, Reflect on the word of the Lorde As I strip down Exposing my skin Baring my thoughts to you Vulnerable As we stand here in the nakedness Of silence Looking at each other In the stillness Just being Black Feminism My daily expression of womanhood Turned into a subject To be studied, memorized, discussed Put on display from 1:30-2:50 But unlike Sarah Baartman I am fully clothed as I listen to classmates Talk about the lives of black women. Say her name Out loud And for her sake Don’t stumble over her pronoun As you mistake her with him She with he So caught up in your story That you don’t hear the difference But I do And that difference is reason # 999,999,999,999 why I Can’t breathe
FEMME NOIRE 1 3 That difference was what hurt the most As she got punched Kicked Scratched Weave ripped out Makeup smeared off Clothes torn open Leaving her exposed Showing genitalia that did not match How she identified But somehow that was reason enough For the men As they exhausted their blows on Her body One hand fisted Breaking her jaw The other hand grabbing their own Dicks A quick reminder of their “manhood” As they delivered an even faster, sharper Jab to her ribs Yelling, “Get Some. Get Some!” “You like that?” “My Ma’ told me not to hit women, But you’re not a woman— You’re a bitch.” And they walk away, satisfied A bounce in their step As she bleeds out blood darker Than her melanin. Goddess Edwards Lamia Beard Ty Underwood Yazmine Vash Payne Penny Proud Keyshia Blige London Chanel
1 FEMME NOIRE 4 Jasmine Collins India Clark Shade Shuler Amber Monroe Kandis Capri Elisha Walker Keisha Jenkins Zella Ziona All murdered Black trans women We speak your names Rest In Power Assata said we had nothing To lose but our chains But I’m looking left and right Seeing black brothers and sisters Being murdered Slaughtered Lynched How many lives will be lost until these chains are broken? Cause at this point we ain’t nothing but a number. As I reflect on Black Feminism I wonder if even that would be enough? People keep asking about life after Denison I hear classmates talk about being Doctors Teachers Actors Journalists Politicians And then I think about the students of color on this campus Particularly the black students Sure we’re also saying those things But to do so, first We have to be alive.
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On My Second Tattoo Antonia D’Emilio
Anyone who knows me will tell you that I’m
rule, but this one felt so necessary, immediately. I
a bit of a tattoo enthusiast. I only have two, and
got it in mid-September, right after my roommate’s
you’ll never see them unless I lift up my shirt on
boyfriend committed suicide on Denison’s campus.
different sides. But I still love body art. And I love the
She came with me to get it. I’m not sure why that
idea of permanence, and how you can make
detail is important, but it feels like it is.
something permanent on your body. It means that
thing will never leave you, and hopefully, your tattoo
follows:
should stand for the most important things in your
life. My first tattoo is of the year “1933,” which is the
year my grandmother was born. She was my favorite
person. So that makes sense. My second one was
more of an impulse, but something that’s permanent
while also being fluid.
In September, I got a tattoo on my left
ribcage. It’s a word that fits the width of my bra, so
Common responses to this tattoo are as
you can’t see it unless I’m totally naked. The word is “Oh my god. I love it.” “feminist” with an em dash at the end of it. I don’t
“It looks so cool. I love the font.”
“What’s the dash for?”
“Oh.”
“I mean, if that’s your thing.”
remember when I got the idea to get this one, but I know I thought of it and got it all in less than six months. Normally, I’d try to stick to the “wait a year”
1 FEMME NOIRE 6 “I don’t know if I’d get that on my body, but
you do you.”
And my feminism is always growing and evolving;
So the responses range in emotion, tone,
that’s why I have the em dash after the word. It
and meaning. Some people love it, and most of
shows growth and movement. And I’ll tell people I’m
those people are my peers. Some people don’t, and
a feminist, and I’m so willing to talk about issues that
most of those people are older than me. So this
surround feminism. So why can I not show people
poses an interesting trend: why is it bad that I have a
this tattoo? It describes who I am and my values, so
tattoo that says “feminist” on my ribs? One that you
isn’t it really the best way to show people who I am?
can’t even see unless I have no clothes on.
Rather than using my words, I’ll use one word on my
Perhaps
what’s
worse
than
people
So I’m a feminist, right? I am. I swear I am.
body. And they know who I am.
questioning my tattoo is my response to the disdain.
Maybe that’s the problem, though. Maybe
I can normally predict who will have what reaction,
one word isn’t enough. I toyed with the idea of
so before they show me negativity, I’ll normally
putting another word before it. Since taking this
plead for anyone to not make fun of it. “Okay, now
class, I thought that maybe if I put “Black” above it,
before I show you, just know that I love it and it’s my
or “intersectional.” But I don’t want to justify my
thing and I don’t regret it. Please don’t hate it. It’s
feminism either. I’ve never been ashamed to be a
mine.” This is always a desperate cry for acceptance
feminist, but for some reason, it’s still hard to tell
before they’ve even seen it. Then I show them, and
people.
upon their first glance I continue: “See? It’s cool,
right? I love it.” And then, after all that pleading,
So that no matter what, if I couldn’t say it, people
they say what I tried to get them not to say: “I mean,
could see it. I did it as a favor to myself, to make
if that’s your thing. I don’t know if I’d get that on my
myself more comfortable with the fact that I am, in
body, but you do you.”
fact, a feminist. I believe in equality. I think about
Ultimately, I think that’s why I got my tattoo.
identities, and I think about politics. I see
FEMME NOIRE 1 7 microaggressions every day. I read the news. I try to educate my friends who don’t know the beauty of feminism yet. And my tattoo is like a flashing sign that says, “Hey, I’m believe in equality!” And
that’s
okay.
1 FEMME NOIRE 8 Work Cited Blay, Zeba. “Why Comparing Rachel Dolezal to Caitlyn Jenner Is Detrimental to Both Trans And Racial Progress.” Huffington Post: Black Voices. The Huffington Post, 12 Jun. 2015. Web. 29 November 2015. Brown, Kara. “I Have Questions About That White Lady Who Maybe Pretended to Be Black.” Jezebel. Jezebel, 12 Jun. 2015. Web. 29 November 2015. Samuels, Allison. “Rachel Dolezal’s True Lies.” Vanity Fair. Vanity Fair, 19 Jul. 2015. Web. 29 November 2015. Pictures In Order of Appearance Silhouette with quote from Zora Neal Hurston. http://poetsandwriters.tumblr.com/post/124945268686/if-you-are-silent-about-your-paintheyll-kill Black Feminist Power Fist. http://www.spreadshirt.com/feminist+t-shirts Angela Davis. https://storify.com/alibowlby/angela-davis-footprint-left-on-the-world Alice Walker. http://www.architectsofpeace.org/architects-of-peace/alice-walker 2015 Chart. Will Hamilton. Rachel Dolezal. http://www.thesmokinggun.com/documents/bizarre/rachel-dolezal-discrimination-lawsuit786451 Feminist Tattoo. Antonia D’Emilio
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Give It To A Friend. Share With A Professor. Leave It On The Table. Show Your Roommate.