08 August 2006

Black Stacey

I've managed to make it over to {Nappy as I want to be} several times in the past week. I'm glad many of my favorite bloggers don't post terribly often. That way, when they do have a post I haven't read, it's a treasure. I know I can keep pace with them. I even found the courage to get my white ass to post at {Nappy's} site. Sorry I haven't learned enough about her yet to know how she prefers people to refer to her. I have not yet gone back to see if there are other comments.

The post I commented on contained this video, which I'm posting here so I can make this a favorite and have easy access to it forever. The artist's name is Saul Williams and the song in entitled Black Stacey.




The lyrics, as provided by {Nappy}

(You can read the post comments there, too)

with my nappy headed ass said...

The lyrics:

I used to hump my pillow at night.
The type of silent prayer to help myself prepare for the light.
Me and my cousin Duce would rank the girls between one and ten
and the highest number got to be my pillows pretend.
Now I apologize to every high ranker.
But you taught me how to dream and so I also thank ya.
I never had the courage to approach you at school.
We joked around a lot and I know you thought I dressed cool.
But I was just covering up all the insecurities that came bubbling up.
My complexion had
me stuck in an emotional rut, 'like the time you Flavor Flaved me and you called me
"Yo Chuck, they say
you're too black, man".
I think I'm too black.
Mom, do you think I'm too black? I think I'm too black.
Black Stacey.
They called me Black Stacey.
I never got to be myself 'cause to
myself I always was Black Stacey, in polka dots
and paisley, a double goose
and bally shoes, you thought it wouldn't phase me.
I was Black Stacey.
the preachers' son from Haiti
who rhymed a lot and always got the dance steps at the party.
I was Black Stacey.
you thought it wouldn't phase me, but it did 'cause I was just a kid.

I used to use bleaching creme, 'til Madame CJ Walker walked into my dreams.
I dreamt of being white and
complimented by you, but the only shiny black thing that you liked was my shoes.
Now, I apologize for bottling up
all the little things you said that warped my head and my gut.
Even though I always told you not to
brag about the fact that your great grand
mother was raped by her slave master. Yeah, I became
militant too.
So it was clear on every level I was blacker than you.
I turned you on to Malcolm X and
Assata Shakur in my three quarter elephant goose with the fur.
I had the high top fade
with the steps on the side.
I had the two finger ring, rag top on the ride.
I had the sheep skin, name
belt, Lee suit, Kangol, acid wash Vasco, chicken and waffle.

Black Stacey.
They called me Black Stacey.
I never got to be myself 'cause to myself I always was Black Stacey, in polka dots
and paisley, a double goose and bally shoes, you thought it wouldn't phase me.
I was Black Stacey. the preachers'
son from Haiti who
rhymed a lot and always got the dance steps at the party.
I was Black Stacey.
You thought it wouldn't phase me, but it did 'cause I was just a kid.

Now here's a little
message for you.
All you baller playa's got
some insecurities too, that you could cover up, bling it up, cash in
and ching ching it up, hope no
one will bring it up, lock it down and string it up.
Or you can share your essence with us, 'cause everything about you couldn't be rugged
and ruff.
And even though you tote a
glock and you're hot on the
streets, if you dare to share your heart, we'll nod our heart to
its beat.
And you should do that, if nothing else, to prove
that a player like you could keep it honest and true. Don't mean to call your bluff but
mothafucka that's what I do.
You got platinum chain
then, son, I'm probably talking to you.
And you can call your gang, your posse and the rest of your crew.
And while you're at it get them addicts and the indigent too. I plan to have a whole army
by the time that I'm through to load their guns with songs they haven't sung.

Like black stacy
I never got to be myself 'cause to myself I always was Black Stacey, in polka dots
and paisley, a double goose and bally shoes, you thought it wouldn't phase me.

I was black stacy the preachers'
son from Haiti who
rhymed a lot and always got the dance steps at the party.
I was Black Stacey.
You thought it wouldn't phase me, but it did 'cause I was just a kid.


I was black stacy
They called me Black Stacey.
I never got to be myself 'cause to myself I always was Black Stacey, in polka dots
and paisley, a double goose and bally shoes, you thought it wouldn't phase me.

Black stacy
they call me black stacy


ahh black stacy
ooh black stacy
move black stacy
groove black stacy
shake black stacy
make black stacy
cry black stacy
cry
no not I.


I think I might be in the beginning stages of a racial emersions like one of my heroines, Granny Vibe, writes about. I guess it started out with Pam of Pam's House Blend and she led me to {Nappy.} Others have led me to Blac(k)ademic and Black Amazon and Angry Black Bitch. I've also made my way to The Smack Dog Chronicles, Apostate and TheFreeSlave in my travels. All of these are placed as firmly as I can in my Google sidebar with the constant hope it will not unilaterally decide to eliminate them, as has been wont to happen. We'll see what comes of this but I am very interested in what these folks have to say and I'm listening, if not talking too much.

Tonight, {Nappy} led me to the abode of the Media that Matters Film Fest, a wonderful place showcasing the work of young video documentarians. I've only seen one (film number 2 called A Girl Like Me) so far but will be going back, after work Tuesday night and again after my interview with the Clinical Educator of the ER at the Hospital Around the Corner until I've seen them all.

The film I watched talks about the doll test, a test conducted as part of Brown vs. Board of Education, which was in 1954, in which black children were given a choice of a black and a white doll and almost invariably choose the white doll as "good" or the "best" doll. That broke my heart when I saw it years ago. It breaks my heart that the results are replicated still. There is one child in the film, a little girl of maybe 4, who already has the self-hatred so instilled in her that, when asked which doll she is, initially reaches for the white doll then, reluctantly, pushes the black doll toward the interviewer.

How can it be that we've made no strides in the last fifty years to turn this around? What must we do to stop raising children who hate themselves so much just because of their skin color or gender or economic status or social class or sexual orientation?

I wish it wasn't now 5 AM with work looming all too soon in the morning. I'll be lucky to get four hours now and I have so much more I want to say on this subject. One post at a time, I suppose. More to come.

Technorati tags: colorism / feminism / isms (all the others) / racism / sexual orientation / US politics / world politics

2 Comments:

At August 08, 2006 6:47 AM, Blogger Vickie said...

Hi, I don't have a comment on your blog (except that it was interesting) but I noticed you had a link to one of my Happy Rhodes websites on your page. I saw it in a stats listing and followed the link. It was happyrhodes.org, btw. I'm also the person who keeps the song samples site at wretchawry.com. Anyway, I wanted to say thanks for promoting Happy on your blog. You might be interested in this, there are now several clips from Happy performing live on YouTube. Just go to youtube.com, search for Happy Rhodes, then look at "k8fan's" videos. Have fun! Vickie

 
At August 08, 2006 11:16 AM, Blogger Cheryl said...

Cool! You're that friend of hers, right? Love her stuff! Thanks for the tip to the YouTube videos, I'll have to go chack them out. I have another blog and haveher linked, not so prominently, on that one as well.

Take care.

 

Post a Comment

Links to this post:

Create a Link

<< Home

Locations of visitors to this page

  • *CmIB = Claiming my Inner Bitch
  • *CmIB-E = Claiming my Inner Bitch Enterprises
  • *MBCP = May be considered patriarchetypical (c) 2006 CmIB-E
  • *NOP = No Ordinary Princess, my other blog
  • *THAC = The Hospital Around the Corner