If It Ain’t White It Ain’t Right Essay

When evaluating the immortality of slavery, people oftentimes emphasize the abhorrent, physical abuse endured by Afro-Descendants, and diminish the pernicious, psychological effects they suffered. Chief among the psychological effects manifested from slavery are notions of self-hatred and self-denial. Tragically, Blacks were forced, through centuries of conditioning, to believe, accept, and demand their slave master’s mandate that blackness innately implied inferiority. In Juan Francisco Manzano’s Autobiography of a Slave, Manzano explores these themes through his personal experience as a Cuban Creole mulatto slave. In an arduous fight for freedom, Manzano is raised to believe that the only way to liberation is through a rejection of his Black identity and an acceptance of his White identity. The ideas of self-hatred and denial raise intriguing questions. Is it possible for Black people to achieve real liberation, i. e. substantive democracy and citizenship, through the denial of their Black identity? What kind of liberation is achieved through the acceptance of the idea that part of one’s identity is inherently inferior? This paper suggests that true psychological liberation, substantive democracy, and citizenship cannot be achieved through such a process, and that any system that requires such self-denial and self-hatred serves to reinforce or justify the racist system from which Blacks seek to escape. Identity development occurs during one’s childhood. From an early age, children are told who they are and how they relate to others in the world. During the era of slavery, Afro-descendant children were taught that the only way to salvation, both immediately and in the future, was through a sacrifice of their African roots. Perhaps the most vivid recent example of this occurred in the award-winning film â€Å"The Help† in which a Black maid tells a young White child â€Å"You are smart. You are kind. You are important. † During slavery, Black children were given no such messages. Part of the message Black children were taught was that their blackness was in some way responsible for their slavery. In discussing the common desire for Afro-descendant’s to escape their African heritage, Ivan A. Schulman writes in the introduction, â€Å"To make the leap to the â€Å"master† culture was not an uncommon aspiration in the nineteenth century: Among people of color there existed the general wish to whiten one’s descendants insofar as possible, and distance themselves as much as possible from slavery† (Manzano, 11). Through this desire, Blacks sacrificed their own self worth in favor of their domineering White oppressors. As a young boy, Manzano too yearned to identify with the controlling white culture he inhabited. While discussing his relationship with Dona Joaquina, one of the many women who raised him, he writes, â€Å"She would dress me, comb my hair, and take care that I did not mix with the other black children† (Manzano, 55). Dona Joaquina’s insistence to separate Manzano from his Black heritage is credited to the caste system present among slaves in Cuba. Under this system, pure Black slaves were in opposition to Mulattos. Since Mulattos by definition had at least some White blood, they conjectured that they were superior to their full-blood Black counterparts, and therefore justified in trying to escape their Black identity. Consequently, the caste system served as the primary force that caused Manzano to run away from his plantation. As a result of having his family members and friends detached from his life, Manzano found it paramount to escape his present situation as a Mulatto slave amongst full-blood, Afro-descendant slaves, he writes, â€Å"I saw myself at El Molino, without parents or even relatives, and, in a word, a mulatto among blacks† (Manzano, 133). This passage highlights one result of the denial of Black identity, i. e. complete alienation from one part of the community from which one derives. Through this process, Blacks fundamentally lose their self worth. By refusing to accept and acknowledge their heritage, the significance of the Afro-descendant in society has deeply diminished. Juan Francisco Manzano’s experience is one shared by several Afro-descendants in Latin and North America. Chica da Silva, reputedly the most famous and beautiful Black woman in Brazilian history, is one glaring comparison. Chica da Silva’s was a slave, but her master was so attracted to her that he wanted to marry her and thus free her from slavery. They lived in a luxurious house and had several beautiful children. Among Brazilians, Da Silva was considered to be the pinnacle matriarch. However, the ascendency of Da Silva to fame came with a cost. While discussing Da Silva’s eminence in Brazilian society, Henry Louis Gates writes, â€Å"Chica da Silva was black, yet her rise to power within the community was part of a conscious whitening effort. She acted like she was a white woman† (Gates, 34). In order for Chica da Silva to be accepted as a valorized figure in Brazilian society, she had to forego her blackness. Furthermore, Maceo’s story serves the same purpose. A Cuban Creole, Maceo is revered for his courageous efforts as commander of the Cuban army during Cuba’s fight for independence. Through his courageous efforts, Cuba was finally able to break away from centuries of subjugation by Spain and be an independent nation. The fact that a Black man led Cuba to independence is remarkable and noteworthy, especially given that this occurred in 1898, only twelve years after slavery was abolished in Cuba. But was Maceo actually Black? While discussing Maceo’s legacy among Cubans after his death, Gates writes, â€Å"The researchers didn’t try to diminish his legacy, but they sought to valorize the European part of his genetic heritage. They explained that although his bone structure was that of an African, the measurements of his skull affirmed that his brain was that of a white man. If Maceo was a superior man, then he couldn’t be Black† (Gates, 195). The notion of a Black man as a quintessential heroic figure in Cuban history is automatically discredited. Since Blacks were going to be the majority, this stripping of one’s Blackness was paramount in order for Whites to maintain control. Moreover and most importantly, Maceo’s story set a precedent that if wealthy White’s had children who looked Black, they did not have to accept their status as Black Cubans. Thus prioritizing class over race. To this end, Blacks escaped their African roots not only psychologically, but physically as well. Within the social context of the Dominican Republic, the concept of beauty is analogous with Whiteness, particularly in the case of hair. While discussing the intersection of hair and identity in the Dominican Republic, Cassandra Badillo writes, â€Å"†¦a white woman’s hair is described blonder. Whether it is curly or straight, black or brown, it is said that she is blonder. About the â€Å"others,† it is said that they have bad hair and that’s all–bad hair has no color† (Badillo, 36). The bad hair attributed to the â€Å"others† has several catastrophic consequences. Black women in the Dominican Republic habitually straighten their hair so that they can be White. As a result, they contract blisters and burns, permanently damaging the condition of their scalp. Still, even though Blacks go through the physical anguish of straightening their hair, they do not fully whiten themselves. Badillo writes, â€Å"straightening does not whiten a woman, straightening is about self-denial† (Badillo, 37). Through the process of hair straightening, Blacks dismiss their African identity. While discussing the problems of hair straightening, Badillo writes, â€Å"†¦the problem is not changing hair per se, but rather in the power relations it expresses and in the attitudes of domination it reflects† (Badillo, 36). Hair straightening operates in a way that camouflages and normalizes subordination and privilege. In doing this, Black women lose their autonomy and subjectivity, limiting them to formal or procedural forms of democracy and citizenship, thus suspending any chances of substantive salvation. The troublesome notions of self-denial and self-hatred too have plagued me. During high school, from my peers’ point of view, I was perceived as another Carlton Banks, the foil for Will Smith’s character in â€Å"The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air. † Although on the surface Carlton seems like an admirable Black character—gets good grades, dresses sophisticatedly, and speaks well, further reflection leads one to believe the contrary. Despite the fact that he dresses well and speaks correctly, personality traits that are not in congruence with most depictions of African Americans, at the end of the day, he still seeks the approval of those he perceives in authority (whites), and also has no real sense of self-respect. Now, I can truly say that I have evolved out of this condition. As an active member of the Black Students Alliance, I have recognized that my heritage is nothing to be ashamed of. I now realize that up until this point in my life, I have been lied to. These lies were framed in language that stated everything Black meant ugly, evil, and sinister, and everything White meant pure, high, and clean. This could not be any further from the truth. Now when people say, â€Å"Say it loud! † I reply, â€Å"I’m Black and I’m proud! † I have discerned the importance of not only accepting, but also celebrating one’s Black identity. In order to address the perils of self-denial and self-hatred, there is no other way. In the words of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. , â€Å"If the Negro is to be free, he must move down into the inner resources of his own soul and sign with a pen and ink of self-assertive manhood his own Emancipation Proclamation. †