NWSA 2008: Repositioning Black Feminism

I returned from a rather productive and exciting conference at the NWSA in Cincinnati this past weekend. This is not always the case, so I'm glad to have something positive to report back.

Here are the highlights!

Day 1 - Thursday, June 19 (The Starry-Eyed Fan)

My flight was smooth and uninterrupted, and it didn't take me too long to get shuttled and settled into my hotel room. No sooner do I get into the hotel lobby than I'm bumping into former students, former professors, and former colleagues (in that order!). My first stop is attending a special "Women of Color" reception, and I didn't realize I've achieved a certain kind of national listserv fame (or infamy as the case may be) since the name on my tag was instantly recognizable. I can only imagine how much more this would be if my name appeared on this blog.

I met up with old friends from my alma mater, and on our way out, we passed by an academic hero of mine - Patricia Hill Collins, the conference keynote speaker and author of Black Feminist Thought; Fighting Words; Black Sexual Politics; and From Black Power to Hip Hop. I quote her often on this blog, and her theories definitely formed the framework for my dissertation, which became my first book. So, when an older scholar in our group called out to Dr. Collins, the rest of us definitely were immediately transformed into fangirls.

By the time I introduced myself to her, I think I managed to gush: "OMG! OMG! OMG!!! You're, like, soooo awesome! I teach you all the time!" (or something of the sort). She claims to have either heard of me or to have recognized my face (hmmm, we know people in common - black female academicians make up a small circle in academia- so that's not hard to believe), but considering that my forthcoming review of her most recent book is not exactly a positive review, I'm afraid she won't forget my name again.

Moving right along. Her keynote address was amazing and truly inspiring. Finally, a scholar who dares to bridge the theoretical divides between critical race theory and transnational discourse. I jotted down considerable notes while she talked since her lecture offered sociological distinctions between "colorblind racism" (what I had discussed in my Racism 2.0 post) and "color conscious racism" - both types achieving the same systemic inequalities while offering different approaches. More importantly, she asked us to think of how this U.S.-based system is then translated and globalized in different global contexts. In particular, she asked us to think of how racism gets entrenched in gender discourses so that the "public sphere" (often defined as masculine space) becomes the location for colorblind racism while the "private sphere" (or feminine space) becomes the permissible space of overt forms of racism. Complicated stuff, so I'm not sure I'm summarizing all the points well. I'd have to look through my notes and verify this. Still, she received a standing ovation - not just for her provocative ideas but engaging delivery. This was my first time hearing Dr. Collins speak, and I was beyond satisfied with her intellectual engagement (although the woman seriously needs to cite me since I have written on similar subjects, but that's another story). It's great to see the national organization for Women's Studies taking itself seriously as an intellectual discipline by featuring such speakers.

Afterwards, there was a reception, and since I didn't eat after traveling all day, I joined others for a late dinner and drinks and didn't get back to my room until after midnight.

Day 2 - Friday, June 20 (Old Narratives/Habits Die Hard)

So, I decided to skip out on morning sessions to participate in a tour of the National Underground Railroad Freedom Center in downtown Cincinnati, right on the riverfront where the Ohio River divides the "free state" of Ohio and the "slave state" of Kentucky. What a wonder it is to visit such sites, having read novels like Toni Morrison's Beloved, and get a sense of the history.

To my surprise, the museum is rather small, though I do like the design of the building. Also, considering it was only three blocks away from my hotel, I certainly wouldn't have paid in advance for the tour when I could have easily visited the museum on my own and guide myself (yes, I'm one of those scholars who hates museum tour guides - it really doesn't help when you know the history better than the person working for the museum). The museum tour actually starts with an animation introduction on the history of slavery. What a stroke of genius - this public pedagogy - since the animation captivated the school kids in the audience while leaving us adults speechless by its breathtaking beauty and emotionality. I tell ya, when I'm reduced to tears over a simple line drawing that renders the pain of an elderly slave woman being humiliated by her young-looking white mistress, that's some powerful art.

The rest of the exhibition was rather sparse. I guess it's still a work in progress because the Freedom Center is not very extensive in its historical information - for instance, where is the Margaret Garner story? No where to be found! There were some amazing quilts by a local artist, Aminah Brenda Lynn Robinson, and a reconstructed slave pen (replete with chains used on slaves) to give us a sense of how the enslaved were holed up in one place and treated like beasts of burden. Here again, I would've preferred looking at this exhibit on my own because our tour guide thought the important story was the master who owned the slaves, rather than the slaves themselves, and quite frankly, I don't give a crap about that man. I was far more interested in reading the list of the slaves he was selling and why they bore the names that they did - why, for instance, did this man own slaves called "Israel," "America," and "Ghana"? Did those slaves originate from those countries? What do those names mean? And how, pray tell, does a slave called Israel see him or herself as some "promise land" when he's holed up in a slave pen like some farm animal? You know, those are the questions I had, and didn't really want to hear about their "master" J. W. Anderson.

The interactive multimedia exhibits were probably the most entrenched in an old or, I should say, "master narrative." One particular film on exhibit framed the rest of the museum experience. Constructing as it did a patriarchal narrative about terrified slave mothers who dared not leave the plantation while wringing their hands for the young brave men who dared to escape, I began to get impatient. At least this particular filmic narrative envisioned a young man and his sister venturing on the underground railroad to find their freedom, but I was still annoyed by this.

After reading Beloved and Michelle Cliff's Free Enterprise - forget about fiction, let's just look at history (and I certainly suggest you revisit my Black Herstory series) - after Harriet Tubman, do we really need to construct a patriarchal narrative about the Underground Railroad when this journey required the strength of both women and men, black and white? I did find it quite amusing, after this filmic introduction, that the tour guide - when describing one of these fugitive slave stories to us - kept getting one of the names wrong by mentioning the name of Mary Ellen. It finally dawned on the group: right across from the tour guide was a big old portrait of Mary Ellen Pleasant, looking all impressive and big-eyed and "angry" like how black women get when they cut their eyes at you (and, yes, that's how she looked in the photo). Heh. I knew, when I gazed into her portrait, that Mrs. Pleasant was feeling the way I was since, ONCE AGAIN, she was being erased from this narrative. So, every time the tour guide kept inserting her name, I felt her spirit in tune with mine: if I could high-five her at that instant, you know I would.

Don't you just love it when black women, dead or alive, refuse to be silent or forgotten? :)

Of course, this interactive multimedia show wasn't over until we were treated to a specific film narrated by none other than Oprah Winfrey (whom I'm assuming must have shaped the main narrative since she donated a great deal of money to the museum). So, all I have to say is: Master Narrative Indeed.

All in all, I'm glad I made this trip and highly recommend this visit should you ever pass through Cincinnati. After all, we absolutely must support our African American historical centers, especially since this museum is still struggling - like so many others - to stay afloat. But, I would love to see a few more exhibits, and perhaps some of us can propose curating the kind of show that could certainly fill in the gaps that I've already mentioned.

The day ended with my attendance of a special panel organized in tribute to Audre Lorde. The main speakers - black lesbian scholar Kaila Adia Story of the University of Louisville, Filipina scholar Melinda L. de Jesús of California College of the Arts and editor of a new anthology, Pinoy Power, and Emi Koyama of Eminism.org - all represented different aspects of the next generation of scholars and activists, who wanted to discuss their debt to pioneers like Lorde. It was a very moving tribute and one that offered so much food for thought (especially Emi Koyama, who raised the same issues as Lorde did in her "master's tools will never dismantle the master's house" speech about academic organizations like NWSA not being able to offer funding to non-academic, struggling working-poor intersex activists like hirself.

After offering great ideas and speaking from their hearts, what's the first question they're given from the audience? A middle-aged white woman, who approached the microphone in the aisle, informed the panelists and everyone else that she is the only professor at her university teaching on the subject of black feminism (if we can believe that), and she would like some advice on how she can challenge the one sexist black male student in her class without coming off like a racist. No one on the panel offered her any advice. In fact, their silence started making everyone else uncomfortable (which was fine by me because, seriously, what does that question have to do with anything? Really?).

Alas, a few older black women - those who grew up believing that they must be polite and accommodating - began to offer suggestions on what this woman could do to challenge that sexist black man in her class. Then, a more conscious white woman went to the mic and said that it is really time for white women to stop putting the burden on women of color to "teach" them about the issue of race. Applause ensued, and Ann Russo in the audience, a renowned white antiracist activist-scholar, who was busy passing around a petition protesting racism and sexism in this year's presidential election (see PBW's post), chimed in.

However, it wasn't long before the conversation deteriorated because Emi's criticism of NWSA's class-based discrimination was appropriated by different individuals who began to trash the organization - not because they themselves wanted to address intersections of classism, racism, and sexism but to simply seize the opportunity to just gripe about their various grievances. The same offending white woman who asked the question about her sexist black male student went back to the microphone to complain that the free tote bags organizers handed out to conference participants smelled of a strange "chemical waste" and that it was probably "made in China" by all sorts of sweatshop workers, and what does that say about the lack of global consciousness on the part of NWSA?

At that point, a few Asian American attendees stormed out of the room, and I don't think the offender understood what she said or did wrong until finally, an Asian American graduate student felt empowered enough to approach the mic and tell this woman how offensive she was. Needless to say, the conversation went in circles, and I hung out with two other junior colleagues afterwards where we had drinks at the bar, and I didn't return to my room until 2 am. Just so you know, I did not leave that session without approaching the mic myself to invoke Audre Lorde's name and remind everyone why we were offering this tribute in the first place.

Day 3 - Saturday, June 21 (Hanging With the Big Girls)

Despite my late night hours, I made sure I woke up in time to attend a very important session that involved a conversation between the great black feminist scholar (and my former professor) Beverly Guy-Sheftall and the prominent black feminist historian Paula Giddings. Guy-Sheftall was also taking over as President of NWSA, and I cannot help but feel optimistic about the direction she could take this organization (thank goodness she did not attend the Audre Lorde panel, or she might have decided to resign right then and there!).

Dr. Giddings has just published an 800-page biography on Ida B. Wells, titled Ida, A Sword Among Lions. All the books were sold out, so I'm going to have to wait to get my own copy. Just from the conversation, it sounds fascinating, and it is definitely the most comprehensive biography on Ida B. Wells to date. I absolutely cannot wait to read it (you'll remember that I started my Black Herstory series with her). In a packed room of starry-eyed academicians, we listened to every single word emanating from these two great women as if they were preaching the gospel, and we absolutely believe Giddings when she tells us that Ida's spirit compelled her to write her story (which took her 20 years to do so). Absolutely captivating this woman's life was, and she did what she did without hesitation and with sheer courage and conviction. I now have a new motto should I find myself in any dilemma: "What would Ida do?"

Later on, I presented a talk on blogging as pedagogy and black feminist activism, so my Anxious Black Woman alter ego is starting to penetrate my academic space offline (hee). Afterwards, I bumped into both Giddings and Guy-Sheftall and got invited to join them for drinks and a later dinner! You've got to understand something, dear readers. I have vivid memories of when my professor had placed me and another graduate student at a table filled with other students at another conference while she hung out with important people like Toni Morrison. I definitely felt like she placed me at the kiddie table at that conference.

So, now I'm being invited to hang with the "big girls"! And that's when I knew I had graduated to the "grown-up table"! Yes, I'm almost tenured, but trust me when I tell you that, even though we are all Ph.D'd colleagues, former professors can still make you feel like you are still their student (case in point, before the night was over, she gave me an "assignment" - the details of which I won't go into).

Needless to say, I had a great time, and we talked about all kinds of things - including how Giddings was trying to get either a play or movie made about Ida B. Wells (that would be so cool!), and why Oprah Winfrey has yet to show any interest in producing such a movie (we all believe Ida is too radical for Oprah to want to tackle, but I don't see why she wouldn't - both women are affiliated with Mississippi and Chicago). So many untold stories, and the work we do as scholars is certainly not in vain. Towards the end of the evening (at least for me - after three drinks, I had to retire early, so obviously I'm not nearly as seasoned enough to really, really hang with the big girls - whom I understand stayed up till the wee hours of the morning) we brainstormed a potential fundraising event - if we could feature a televised feminist-style state of the union event featuring our most prominent women in the nation and charge admission - might this be an effective way to increase the relevance and profile of Women's Studies nationally? And my professor and her cohorts have their connections.

Who knows? We might be able to pull this off (if they remember, since we were all pretty juiced while coming up with our ideas, even though I've been "assigned" to remind them of these ideas - perhaps blogging about it is a way to force myself to recall this). Definitely stay tuned because if it materializes, I'd love for you all to know the part I played in all this.

So, all in all, this year's NWSA highlighted and repositioned Black Feminism in ways it hasn't before, and in light of the new directions our nation and world seem to be headed, perhaps the time is now for us to seize opportunities and imagine all things are possible.

I haven't felt so positive about this organization in a long time, especially after last year's fiasco, so let's hope the momentum has just begun.