The Brownies' Book

Before "The Brownies' Book" began circulating as a publication aimed towards black children, images like these were the only ones present in children's literature:

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/5/54/Golliwogg2.jpg

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/4/49/LittleBlackSamboCover.jpg

and writing like this stereotyped and cast shame on black children:

"Ten Little Niggers"

Ten Little Nigger Boys went out to dine;
One choked his little self, and then there were Nine.
Nine Little Nigger Boys sat up very late;
One overslept himself, and then there were Eight.
Eight Little Nigger Boys traveling in Devon;
One said he'd stay there, and then there were Seven.
Seven Little Nigger Boys chopping up sticks;
One chopped himself in halves, and then there were Six.
Six Little Nigger Boys playing with a hive;
A Bumble-Bee stung one, and then there were Five.
Five Little Nigger Boys going in for Law;
One got in Chancery, and then there were Four.
Four Little Nigger Boys going out to Sea;
A Red Herring swallowed one, and then there were Three.
Three Little Nigger Boys walking in the Zoo;
The big Bear hugged one, and then there were Two;
Two Little Nigger Boys sitting in the Sun;
One got frizzled up, and then there was One.
One Little Nigger Boy living all alone;
He got married, and then there were None.

Obviously, the market for children's literature provided an extremely distorted, filled with prejudiced, stereotyped stories of "bad" or "naughty" black children. As we learned about in the first half of the semester (especially in the film "Ethnic Notions"), books and magazines were riddled with caricatures of Little Black Sambo, Pickaninnies, and Golliwoggs. So far, our readings have only focused on the negative portrayals of blacks and how these negative portrayals continued to haunt the race, being perpetuated in different mediums. I began to feel like we would never hear about positive portrayals of blacks and black children in literature, but "The Brownies' Book" changes this, showing black children as heroes and heroines, as confident individuals, and as educated individuals.

In my opinion, one of the most striking pieces in "The Brownies' Book," was "The Heritage," by Blanche Lynn Patterson. It tells the story of a young woman named Julia who is working long, difficult hours to put herself through school. The reader is never told the specific grade level, but I assumed that Julia was in college. She visits with an older mother figured named Mother Mason who reminds Julia that by getting an education she is fulfilling the hopes of two uneducated generations before her. In the conclusion of the short story, Julia says, "Oh, I am so glad you told me. I might have given up and been a failure and disappointment. Now I have something to work for, and I'll keep on, Mother Mason. I'll keep on!"

Now, on one hand, I see the obvious positive message being sent by this piece. "The Brownies' Book," does an excellent job encouraging students to stay in school and combat any societal norms holding them back from achieving their goals. However, I was shocked by the fact that, in a magazine calling itself positive and progressive, geared towards the advancement of the black race, the character of Mother Mason STILL played the part of a Mammy caricature. She speaks in a thick "negro" dialect, with phrases like, "ain't nothin'," "jest" instead of "just," and "Why, chile!" This is something I simply do not understand. By including an uneducated, struggling black figure, the magazine perpetuates negative black stereotypes that the magazine promised NOT to include. I think it is sad that the negative black caricatures were so deeply rooted in culture that even a magazine emphasizing the successes of blacks clings to these stereotypes.

Passing, Entry One

One of the most striking parts of this weekend's reading, in my opinion, was found on page 75 of "Passing." Nella Larsen writes of Irene Redfield, "...mingled with her disbelief and resentment was another feeling, a question. Why hadn't she spoken that day? Why, in the face of Bellew's ignorant hate and aversion, she had concealed her own origin? Why had she allowed him to make his assertions and express his misconceptions undisputed? Why, simply because of Clare Kendry, who had exposed her to such torment, had she failed to take up the defence of the race to which she belonged?"

Obviously, the majority of Larsen's novel can be compared to "Autobiography of an Ex-Coloured Man" because the two pieces have such similar subjects and present so many of the same questions to the reader. I found myself agreeing with many of the questions that Irene Redfield asked herself, and also thinking that they were questions the Narrator might have asked himself. I do realize that Irene was a black woman passing for a white woman, and therefore had virtually no "right," at this point historically, to voice her feelings regardless of the situation. However, her justifications for not speaking out against the blatantly racist John Bellew all seem to revolve around concerns for causing discomfort or inappropriateness in the home of her so-called "friend," Clare Kendry. However, shortly after leaving Clare's home, Irene refocuses herself and comes to the realization that she never wants Clare in her life again, and that it was a mistake to let herself to to Clare's house in the first place. Clearly, their relationship is strained and, at least by the end of the section we were assigned to read, it is clear that Irene has very little interest in pursuing a friendship with Clare. Why then, is she afraid to speak out in Clare's home? If she simply revealed herself as being an individual "passing," she wouldn't necessarily need to reveal that Clare was doing the same. I imagine that if she did this, Mr. Bellew would be so disgusted that Irene wouldn't be allowed in his household anymore, eliminating Irene's challenge of maintaining a friendship with his wife. That is all theoretical, of course, but I think it would have saved Irene future irritations with Clare.

However... as we briefly mentioned in class, there appears to be some sort of underlying homosexual tones in this novel, which is perhaps a reason why Irene cannot completely let go of Clare. Even in the footnotes, Irene's observation that she felt "...something else for which should could find no name," this sentiment is connected to Oscar Wilde's homosexual relationship with Lord Douglas. Perhaps this is why Irene wants to say goodbye, but has a subconscious need to stay connected to Clare?

In general, there seem to be a lot of unanswered questions, and we're already more than halfway into the novel. Hopefully, discussions in class this week can help us start to piece together why Irene is afraid to defend her own race, and if and how she feels a connection to Clare Kendry.

"Ethnic Notions"

This movie-documentary was extremely eye-opening for me. Even though all of our readings, I never really paused to think about the impact that black cultural stereotypes continue to have on our society today. Occasionally, while grocery shopping, I've looked at a bottle of Aunt Jemima's syrup and wondered why the manufacturers didn't just find a new way to market their product, but my thought process pretty much ended there. Now, after reading Jessie Fauset's "Gift of Laughter" and especially after listening to the commentary and watching the images shown in "Ethnic Nations," I strongly agree with the idea that popular black stereotyped images have a very harmful effect in the modern day world.

One statement that particularly struck a chord with me was addressed in "Ethnic Notions." One of the commentators explained that because so many black stereotypes, including "Sambo," "Mammy," and "Uncle" were consistently depicted as jolly, "docile, laughing," and at ease with their life, whites began to believe this incorrect depiction as true. Most specifically, whites who lived in towns with no black citizens came to fully believe that slaves were happy being slaves. In turn, this twisted idea has survived time, and therefore the roles of these so-called "happily obedient" slave figures continue to be perpetuated in literature and entertainment.

"Gimme a Break" was a television sitcom that I used to watch in re-runs a few years ago (I don't think it is even re-run, anymore). Until we watched the movie "Ethnic Nations" in class, I really had no idea that the entire plot of the sitcom revolves around a "Mammy" caricature. The main character, Nell, played by the actress Nell Carter, is the absolute prototypical "Mammy." She is African American, overweight, and very sassy, and happily plays the live-in housekeeper to a white family. This television show aired in the mid-eighties, and I can't help but wonder if the show's producers ever sat down and thought to themselves, "By placing this prominent African American actress in a degrading role, we are causing her entire race to take large steps backwards." I have to think that, like so many other forms of entertainment today which still place blacks (perhaps unknowingly or without intention) in positions that do not give their race a sense of pride, they never stopped to think.