OK! I feel you.
I wrote a series at the Detroit Free Press entitled the “THAT MAKES ME UNCOMFORTABLE” blogs. In one of the newspaper columns, l wrote about my BMW mechanic, a Macedonian, who referred to me as “you people.”
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The Stranger in Seattle one time, published a longish piece about racial constructs like “whiteness” and it was a revelation to consider the idea that I could somehow choose not to think of myself as white, like there were other options, other ways of weilding a social identity.
What I quickly discovered was that there is a very real emotional cost to that choice. When I can stop othering people based on their clothes or complexion or ways of speaking, then their pain becomes my pain. And there is more pain out there than there are people who are willing to bear it.
It feels a lot like Neo’s wake-up call in The_Matrix. One moment, I’m a confident white dude strolling around in the best place at the best time that has ever existed in the history of places and times. And then suddenly I’m inside this lunatic asylum where everyone is an inmate, and the only joy to be had seems to be in hurting each other.
Finding anything to laugh about in all this mess, is a rare gift and I honor you for sharing it.
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Grown woman crying … You are welcome, God bless you. It is my responsibility to write. Let me share what a new Facebook friend wrote to me after he read the Preview Edition. He is 49–so am l–a while male from the suburbs of Detroit:
"It did what I’m assuming you wanted it to do, it made me think.
Sure I laughed, but not the way you or your non-white friends would. Mine was an uncomfortable, oh damn laugh.
I can’t laugh at this stuff the same way you can. I’m the one that’s supposed to be able to help fix it. I’m the one that gets it, yet has still said and done racist crap.
The one who has racism creep into his thoughts.
When I’m inconvenienced or cut off.
The way someone drives. The way they dress. The way they talk or walk or whatever it may be. It’s disgusting that I allow it to live in a dark corner of my mind.
It’s embarrassing to admit. I hate it.
Love is what I want. I fight for it in my life daily. I know it can win, but now and then the confederate cell in my mind tries to take a stand for ignorance.
I know that the more people that I meet and know and learn from, the more that cell is exiled.
More than you asked for.
More than I’ve ever admitted to anyone.
I hope that doesn’t change our ability to build a friendship. Knowing that I have a sliver of hate deep in me.
I suppose you’ve lived enough to already know it’s there.
Is it there in everyone? Do they all have this fight?"
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Hello. I explain the irony of this term in the comments below. Scroll down, please.
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Good afternoon!
I respond to the irony of this title in the comments below. Check it out. I do not see how a discussion about the title of the book would be a derailment, though.
Happy to answer any questions about it.
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I cannot thank you enough, Jason, for this post because of the conversation it has engendered–I have been waiting two-and-a-half years for this.
Though they purport to hold genuine conversations on race, major media outlets in Detroit have ignored “Nappy-Headed Negro Syndrome.”
Thank you, Boing Boing readers, for your feedback and insights. Thank you, Jason, for your courage and curiosity.
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Good morning, again, everyone.
There is something that strikes me (read: makes me unnecessaily angry) when there is any creative work–book, film, visual art, comedy, music*–that is deemed “other” and journalists ask something super silly like, “Are you worried that it won’t be accepted by white/mainstream audiences?”
It is a dumb question.
That’s why l turn into Nadia Comaneci and do back handsprings when Tyler Perry’s “Madea” movies are No. 1 at the box office. The irony.
In recent memory, l was watching CBS and Gayle King asked “Awkward Black Girl” Issa Ray: “Are you concerned that people will think it’s only relatable to black people or black women?”
My favorite movies are “Miracle on 34th Street” and “The Godfather,” horse’s-head edition. “Dear Mr. Scorsese: Are you worried that ‘Godfather’ will only be relatable to people who are Italian or in the mafia?” “Dear Miss Wood: Are you concerned that people will think it’s only relatable to little white girls who believe in Santa Claus or to Macy’s shoppers?”
“Caramel” is a hilarious Lebanese film. I read a review of it and went to see it in a Detroit suburb; my friend and l were the only black people there. When the film was over, we were essentially descended upon: “What did you think?” I didn’t understand all the attention because we laughed where everyone else laughed, sighed where they sighed, cheered where they cheered.
We were fortunate enough to meet the producer and director, Nadine Labaki, who flew in from Beirut.
“Your film is universal,” l told her.
So l reject the idea or suggestion that there is something esoteric or exotic about universal art.
*I am watching the O’Jays on “CBS Sunday Morning.” Universal appeal. They just featured a rock star science teacher-comedian with universal appeal: Eddie Brown.
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Pay attention to the makeup of the audiences during his stand-up routine.
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The “war on racism” sounds like it’ll be about as effective as “the war on poverty”, and drugs, and terror. Like killing for peace and fucking for virginity.
On the other hand, I get little hints from time to time, that progress is happening. I’d never seen the show, Freaks and Geeks, so my girlfriend pulled it up on Netflix. Pretty standard teen comedy fare, about the cruelty of public school. But in walks her son who watches over our shoulders for a little while, before commenting that this is nothing like his own experience of high school. This guy is tall, but he in no way resembles a tough guy. And his school is a football rival to the one I went to. So yeah, bullying may never actually vanish, but in this one instance it looks like it’s on the decline.
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You left out “white middle class.”
Though I guess white middle class IS standard teen comedy fare on corporate teevee.
I liked that show, but for a lot of high school students, it’s missing things like metal detectors, armed guards roaming the halls with drug dogs, black and brown girls getting body slammed and handcuffed for using a cell phone in class, etc.
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This is one thing I really loved about that movie Dope. it took a lot of the comedic elements found in some teen movies (that tend to be overwhelmingly white), but was in a minority majority school.
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Thanks, I’ll have to check that. Sounds dope! 
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It’s a pretty great movie! A trio of nerds trying to deal with ending up with a bag of drugs. Hilarity ensues! It’s right up there with Heathers for one of my favorite teen comedies.
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Oneita Big Dummy here: What does “minority majority” mean?
For schools, it refers to a school where the majority of students are a minority group. For example, in certain schools here, you have various groups of students: the Taiwanese, the Canadian-born Chinese, the Hongers, the FOBs and the Mainland Chinese. Oh, and the whites, which as a group includes the two black students. Let’s just say it’s different than going to a school where students are grouped into nerds, jocks, stoners, etc.
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O__o
Say what now?
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I get it. Are you in San Francisco? What is a Honger? What’s an FOB?
Vancouver Canada. I’m talking more about Richmond, one of Vancouver’s suburbs, though.
Hongers are from Hong Kong.
FOB stands for “fresh off the boat”. Refers to recent immigrants who retain more of their native country’s mannerisms and style (poor English, communicate among themselves in Mandarin, dress in a style that’s more typical of where they came from are cold when it’s 10 Celsius (50 degrees Fahrenheit)).
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Cliques, I think. The black kids are in the white kid group?
