March 23, 2008
The word nigger has so many different meanings it's difficult to unpack them all. And, to be fair, Old Punk got into some weird areas of fashion—like white kids don't wear baggy clothes to look cool? Tell that to my young white cousins.
For the most part, Old Punk's post leaves me just as cold as the people on my side of the aisle who "don't have any problem with immigrants, as long as they're legal," but never want to hear Spanish spoken in any public place, and are offended by the sight of grubby little taco stands polluting the public streets. If you show them a piñata, they need smelling salts.
That said, there is a use of the word nigger that is meant to describe "a person without class, morals or values." Where do you think the term white trash came from? It comes from the Jim Crow-era South, and it means, "someone with underclass values, but white skin." At least, it was used that way in every early 20th-century novel I ever read that was set south of the Mason-Dixon line. It meant "low-class," but in a way that went far beyond a person's means, and generally accused them of being low-class on the inside.
Now we use the term "trailer trash," so that we can take race out of it, and don't have to use the parallel, unwieldy—and highly offensive—terms niggers and white trash. Because there's no longer any logical association between race and trashiness, since blacks are no longer locked into low-income lives and deprived of upward mobility.
Of course, the new nomenclature isn't necessarily fair to people who live in prefabricated housing, but English is an imperfect language, and most people I know who live in trailer parks have a sense of humor about the negative associations therewith. They tell me it's really a "stationary coach" lifestyle, or explain that they only operate the meth labs on the weekends, so it's okay.
Anyway, I don't think I'm really white—Mayflower ancestry notwithstanding—because (1) I know I have some Creek Indian in me; (2) I suspect I have some Nez Perce as well; (3) some of my family is from the state of Virginia; (4) I have very full lips; and (5) my brother [and one of his sons] has very very dark skin, and fuzzy hair. Because people look at the skin color more closely than they do our features, they never suspect we're even related unless we tell them.
But, whatever. I'm pretty pale, so I identify with the Anglo-Saxon strain; it's the most convenient one to claim, given the way I look. Another friend of mine, who's also an English major white-looking chick, was talking with me about the Stuff White People Like site, and I told her that I know the intent is harmless, just as it was with The History of White People in America.—but to associate anything that's intellectual, or ironic, or upwardly mobile with white skin seems to me to be playing off of old stereotypes and going in the wrong direction. I see that it's probably funny sometimes—and to some people—but I don't like the conflation of "middle-class," or "upper-middle-class," with white. She responded:
I object as well, and perhaps more, to the use of "black" to signify cool, young/hip/urban, anti-corporate bullshit.... Specifically, white kids [students] who call each other (and, on at least one memorable occasion, me!) "my niggah."
Of course, once we acknowledge that any educated black person is equally likely to enjoy Starbucks and Sarah Silverman, and that any black person who lives in La Cañada or Santa Monica or Bel Air is culturally "white," then we're getting somewhere—provided that the term stops being an insult in the black community, and darker-skinned folks start allowing each other to wear cowboy boots and listen to Pink Floyd and do their homework without accusing each other of "acting white." At that point, maybe literary white chicks like my friend the composition teacher and I should be calling each other "mah niggah." Anything that blurs the lines and shows that culture and race are two different things (the first being relevant to who we are, and the second, irrelevant) should be applauded.
I'm pretty divorced from the celebrity culture, so I don't know about every case Old Punk mentioned, but I'm completely willing to specify that Jeremiah Wright, O.J. Simpson, and Louis Farrakhan are niggers. So were Jeffrey Dahmer and Joseph Stalin. Kim Jon Il is a nigger. Catherine Shelton appears to be a total nigger. Paul Bernardo and Karla Homolka are niggers. Mary I of England? She was mondo-niggo.
But my friend and I? Just a couple of overread, middle-aged niggahz.
At this point, linguistically speaking, it's all in the spelling. In 20 years, though, one of my nephews is going to look at this post of mine and go, "Aunt Joy, what the fuck was it with people like you in the double-Os? Why were you on about race like that? Too much time on your hands? Geez."
Which is why instead of a "conversation," I'd like to see us eventually have a "national shut-up" about race. Not because I want us to censor ourselves, but because I hope we run out of things to say.
Just try not to be hating people. Not as individuals, and not as members of any group. Okay?
UPDATE: I'd forgotten about this; it may be the best Glenn Greenwald post of all time. I mean, the best one about him. I don't think it was by him, though of course one never can tell. Sometimes I wonder if the entire blogosphere other than me is simply an elaborate Greenwald prank. I mean, I know I exist, because I annoy my husband. But how about the others? How can I be sure they aren't all just extensions of Gleen(s)?
h/t: Clarice, in this thread at Just One Minute.
UPDATE 2: Ralph Robert Moore:
In addition to the N word, we also have the F word. In case you don't know, the F word is 'fuck'. If we're going to persist in the assignment of letters to disturbing words, then I do have a concern as a practical matter, since we only have 26 letters in the alphabet, and two of them are now taken. That means we only have 24 letters left to act as a code for the words we find objectionable in our modern society. As a service towards reserving the remaining alphabetical letters to the most deserving of bad words, I suggest the following:The A word Asshole
The B word Bastard
The C word Cancer
The D word Dope
The E word Easy
The F word Fuck
The G word Gimp
The H word Hooker
The I word Idiot
The J word Jackass
The K word Kike
The L word Lez
The M word Moron
The N word Nigger
The O word Open sore
The P word Pisser-away-of-opportunities
The Q word Queer
The R word Retard
The S word Shithead
The T word Tits and Ass
The U word Urine-receiving prostrate individual
The V word Vain
The W word Weird
The X word Xenophobe
The Y word Young
The Z word Zoo-hanging-out-in practitioner of bestialitySome of them need work.
I'm open to suggestions.
UPDATE 3: Still more here. I'm searching around, trying desperately to remember/find out which 20th-Century African-American female writer it was who also advocated repeating the word aloud, over and over—to young black kids, especially—simply so it wouldn't carry the same sting. But not by white people, presumably—jeez! It was in an interview I read in the early 1980s, and I cannot find it right now, for love or money or my search-engine Kung Fu.
In case people do not understand, I have no desire to make it respectable for white people to call black people niggers, but I do think it should be okay within the same race (whatever we're defining as "race" in 2008—same-ish, let's say). Black-on-black, white-on-white, Asian-on-Asian. And if a black person called me a nigger, I'm afraid I'd just hear niggah, and be flattered. Context is everything: I'd never say that word to a black person, because . . . why? That just sounds low and stupid.
Of course, if this were a black man calling me nigger in the "woman is the nigger of the world" sense, I'd assume he just wanted me to do the dishes or cook or whatever, and my abilities to do these things are remarkably . . . inconsistent. Fickle, even. The older I get, the more I forget how to do stuff like that. Isn't that weird? It's like I get amnesia, or something. By the time she died, my grandmother had "lost" all of her domestic skills. She couldn't cook. She couldn't clean. She couldn't drive (that one would kill me). But she seemed to have plenty of time for the things she wanted to do.
UPDATE 4: Apparently, whatever we are, Juliette just wants us to get the hell off of her lawn. I sympathize: I wouldn't want me on my lawn either . . .
I wonder if the B-sphere is fated to have the same fights over and over again over race and gender, and gender and race, and people named Glenda, and race car drivers, and Glendale and pace, and grenades and pax and sex and sociability and space and engendering Irish lace.
UPDATE 5: Yeah. Group hug time.
UPDATE 6: I'm starting to look at Old Punk with new respect. His latest post on the subject is remarkably sensitive and insightful, and he does, in fact, answer my charges about having brought The Fashions of the Young into this discussion: the fact is, a lot of young black people live life closer to the margins than my young cousins do, and when they act out in certain ways they genuinely can jeopardize their chances of employment in a small town. I hadn't thought of it in those terms, of course, since I've lived in cities most of my life.
And, goddamn; the man can write. As W.H. Auden once pointed out, that makes up for any number of sins. Furthermore, Old Guy can spell, which makes me swoon in and of itself.
Posted by: Attila Girl at
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