the-goddamazon:
sourcedumal:
acceber74:
sorchaception:
sourcedumal:
Fuck anyone who thinks otherwise
This is a really intriguing statement to me, and I’m thinking it through trying to figure it out, but my brain’s not making the connection. What am I missing? I can see the “progressive” part, I think, since it tends to mean the central female character is black. But how is it feminist? I’m not meaning that in a challenging or confrontational way. I am genuinely interested.
Kerry Washington, on her role as Bromhilda in Django Unchained
On playing the damsel in distress: Look I can see how it’s not particularly feminist [for white women] to play the princess in the tower, waiting to be saved. But as a black woman – we’ve never been afforded that luxury. There was no man coming to save you; it wasn’t part of the story. In some ways, this telling is a statement of empowerment.
It’s feminist when it’s viewed through the intersection of race because all women aren’t treated the same and never have been. Things a white woman views as empowering (like being a “strong independent woman who doesn’t need a man”) isn’t empowering for black women, as we’re expected to always save/protect/defend/care for ourselves (and everyone else) and never have anyone saving/protecting/defending/caring for us.
Exactly. We don’t get to be saved. We’re too busy being portrayed as saving everyone else. In EVERY. FORM. OF. MEDIA.
Even in the supposed fairy tales, we save ourselves *glares at PATF*
Note how the fandom SCREAMS AND HOWLS when Black women are romanced. They whine and cry about ‘ruining the character’ because they ‘wanted a female character who was badass and didn’t need a relationship’
That character is always black. ALWAYS. We are expected to be devoid of any and all sexuality and feelings. We dont get love. We don’t get affection. We don’t get to be vulnerable and saved by a knight in shining armor.
And because Blackness is the polar opposite of whiteness, and whiteness has sole control over womanhood, we are denied femininity, delicacy, and fragility.
Black women being saved is EMPOWERING because having to save my damn self from white supremacy is not a selling point.
We are
This is what I meant the other day when I was talking about how I would love to get down with the “empowering female characters through independence and lack of masculine relationships” but until the stereotype of Black women being these strong, mammy, magical negro types in narratives are squashed, I am all for writing Black women characters who are vulnerable, delicate, and damsels-in-distress who get the hero at the end of the story.
All the luxuries white women have been afforded from the beginning is just a showcase of privilege. Their brand of feminism is “We’re tired of being portrayed as ONLY feminine, we can be masculine and strong too!” but for Black feminism, the breaking of seemingly inextricable chains is vastly different.
WE ARE PORTRAYED AS THE POLAR OPPOSITE OF WHITE WOMEN. Where white women are portrayed as soft-spoken, excellent diction, and pleasant company, Black women are portrayed as loud, AAVE-using, disreputable company and unpleasant to be around.
Feminism means different things to different women, but our brand of feminism is breaking our own stereotypes and stigmas which are different from the ones white women have to face. We ALL face sexism, but you have to be able to intersect those with how race factors into it and how it is an integral part of how you are viewed and treated as a woman.
I actually went to a panel that addressed this very thing at WisCon this year. I thought it was so interesting because I never once thought about this before.
Interestingly enough this just came up on my Facebook. I posted something about the whole Ray Rice thing (him knocking out Janay Palmer in the elevator), and my mom made a comment about how yes, it was wrong, absolutely, but why in the hell would she still marry him? She should leave his ass.
One of my friends (white) responded about how it’s so wrong to victim blame, how it’s not that easy.
My mom responded back about how you should never let anyone do that to you, you leave the person, period.
Anyhow, this debate went back and forth and this post just made me realize that… they’re coming from two different places. As black women we’re told to be strong, to not take shit from anyone, ever. And my mom knows women who were attacked in their relationships. One stabbed the guy in response, the other hit him with her car. We don’t take shit, period. And that’s great.
At the same time that kind of instills this in us, to the point of if someone has a moment of weakness it’s, “What the hell are you doing?” And it’s not just us who say that to each other. "Why did she go back to him?“ Is asked from everyone: black, white, media, everything. Instead of feeling bad for her, now we feel like she’s doing something wrong. We’re angry at her for going back to him. How dare she. She must be in it for the money. That’s not what a strong black woman would do. A strong, black woman would fight back, or leave his ass. I mean my mom flat out said to me, "If that were me and he knocked me out, he better not be there when I wake up or else.” We HAVE to be strong, have to have a thick skin, we’re taught about the wrongs of the world and told to be ready to face them. You won’t see us break down, won’t see us cry, and if you do it’ll be temporary until we get up and fight back.
Is it bad to be strong in certain situations? No, of course not. At the same time there’s nothing wrong if you don’t have that strength, if you need help, if you need to take your time to get through something. This supposed strength we have isn’t developed overnight, it’s developed over time. The problem is that we rarely see the process, we rarely see the struggling black woman, the crying black woman, the unsure black woman, the confused black woman, we just see the end result. And even then the end result isn’t always pleasant (watch a Tyler Perry movie like Temptation to see what I mean by that).
