The Trouble with Black Folk, Trans Issues and Intersectionality

[Article originally posted on http://www.subscript.it – 10th March 2017]

As proud as I am to be black during times in which the global black community stands together in the wicked face of struggle, it’s disappointing when black people refuse to acknowledge the evil that goes on in our own communities – especially when it affects those of LGBTQI experience.

We’re only three months into a new year, but there have already been seven reported murders of Trans women in the US alone, all of which have been black. In 2016 more than 21 murders of black Trans women were reported, with around the same figure reported in 2015. It’s important to know that these were only the deaths that were reported and in the US, it’s a global issue that we don’t often acknowledge and it’s about time we woke up.

If you’re viewing this statistically, black people are already killed on a level that’s extremely disproportionate; so when looking at a minority within a minority – we’re seeing a number that is even more disproportionate. However, the aim of this article (or rant, it depends) is not about looking at statistics. We are dealing with real people with a real problem and what’s even more disappointing is the fact that the number of those in support is considerably less than it should be.

#BLACKLIVESMATTER has now become a global organisation that has sought to raise awareness in regards to the senseless, unlawful murders of black people and the blatant racism we face on a daily basis. Further to that, it has now become the hub for the advancement and protection of black people. Before I get into this, it is important to know that this is not in any way an attack on the organisation – #BLM has done amazing work in the community and I will continue to support in any way I can. Two of the co-founders of the organisation identify as queer and the protection of black people who identify as LGBTQI is built into the framework of the organisation and they put every effort into making sure that it affirms those of different experiences. In relation to Trans people, #BLM has stated “We are committed to embracing and making space for Trans brothers and sisters to participate and lead. We are committed to being self-reflexive and doing the work required to dismantle cis-gender privilege and uplift Black trans folk, especially Black trans women who continue to be disproportionately impacted by trans-antagonistic violence.” It is also important to note that #BLM has spoken out against violence against our black Trans brothers and sisters on numerous occasions.

Considering everything I have just pointed out, can someone tell me why the wider black community still does not want to open their mouths when it comes to the murders of black Trans women? It does not do well to stick our heads in the sand or shun when topics arise that might not necessarily shadow a particular viewpoint. If “white silence is violence” then black silence is violence. These are people who are just like us who are being slain because they are simply living their truths – or does that not sound familiar?

All too often, we forget that our community is made up of a variety of people. Some of us are gay, some of us are Trans, some of us are disabled and some of us choose not to identify within the confines of gender and that’s just the surface. We need to realise that the concept of intersectionality is real and we have an active duty to make sure that everyone is represented and fought for. If you don’t understand what intersectionality entails and its codes, by definition – “Intersectionality is an analytic sensibility, a way of thinking about identity and its relationship to power. Originally articulated on behalf of black women, the term brought to light the invisibility of many constituents within groups that claim them as members, but often fail to represent them.”

We need to affirm and lift up the lives of black Trans women, they are in real danger. According to planettransgender.com, on average, a Trans woman is slain every 29 hours and that the life expectancy of a Trans woman is 35 years old, further to that a huge majority of these deaths are black trans women. They are murdered upon on the premise of their skin colour, their gender identity and the work that some do. They are murdered by their clients, people that are known to them and for reasons that have never been solved. Black Trans women are constantly disadvantaged and it’s tough – they face discrimination from cis-gendered men, both hetero and homosexual; cis-gendered women; it can be painstaking finding work, so many are forced into sex work.

With all of these seemingly unbreakable walls being put up, it really is up to us to help break these down.

For us to continue to be silent, or to even find ‘rational’ reasons pardoning (i.e. because “the Bible”) these murders make us no better than those who violently want to snuff us out because of our colour. We look silly to those who question organisations like #BLM because we cannot seem to get our act together and protect each other as black people. Quite frankly, we as black people should be embarrassed. When it comes to the murders of black people on a whole, we have to be invested.

We need to show our Trans sisters that we will protect them in and out of hard times.

Addison Rose Vincent from The Huffington Post lists a few ways as to how we can better include our Trans sisters and show our support as the wider black community. We need to be rallying together when these horrific occurrences happen.

I’m bored of dialogue, personally, I think we talk too much.

We may mean well when we say “dialogue needs to happen” and whilst that may be the case, sometimes talk is cheap – we need to SHOW that we care, we need to actively include all black people from all experiences in everything that we do.

If the ultimate battle as black people is to dismantle white supremacy and patriarchal constructs, we need to begin to dismantle and decolonise these very constructs that have become embedded within our community. Homophobia and transphobia are two of many pillars within white supremacy; colonisation and patriarchy really have no business lingering in our community. We are a community of inclusion, love

To all my Trans sisters – you are our sisters, mothers, aunties, cousins; you are loved and you are not alone, it may take some time but we are going to do better by you.

AFROFUTURISM: TAKE ME HOME

When I was younger my uncle was afraid of the O2 Arena – which back then was known as the Millennium Dome. “Don’t go in there, Melchi – it looks like an alien mothership and Africans don’t mess with no aliens”.

How wrong my uncle was. Growing up there was always this idea that anything to do with technology or science fiction was un-African, so far removed from our traditional and ancestral backgrounds. However, the idea of sci-fi, technological advances wasn’t so far-fetched and now we have a name to give it – Afrofuturism.

https://www.manzel.biz/
Manzel Bowman – https://www.manzel.biz/

Afrofuturism is a cultural aesthetic that draws upon the influences of science-fiction, the future and technology merging that with blackness and black people living in Africa and the diaspora. In short, it would be fitting to describe Afrofuturism as a movement. The movement is there to obstruct, ask questions and combat, head on, the past of black people – especially those taken as slaves to America.

Its roots stretch as far back as the late 1950s with American jazz musician Sun Ra and the Arkestra, and sci-fi literature written by W. E. B. Du Bois and George S. Schuyler, however the term itself wasn’t coined until 1993 by American cultural critic Mark Dery in his essay Black to the Future.

Sun Ra was creating music that was not only futurist in sound, but in look, his aesthetic was a fusion of space and ancient Egyptian iconography – something that would become very popular with musicians­ in the late ‘80s and early ‘90s with the Jonzun Crew, Afrika Bambaataa & The Zulu Nation and Parliament-Funkadelic all adopting the ‘space-age’ look mixed with traditional African elements.

It’s found in black music, art, literature and film. What Afrofuturism does is explore the ideas of blackness and black life from an extraordinary angle. It moves away from the tropes of slavery, baby mother/daddy dramas, crime and other stereotypes and places black people in narratives of which we’ve always been left out.

However, Afrofuturism isn’t just black science fiction – it’s about ancient African traditions, ideals and belief systems and placing it in a context that allows it to exist in the future.

For American artist and academic John Jennings, his introduction into Afrofuturism was accidental, “I did these images about stereotypes, and I came up with this idea of black cyborgs and the constructive identity being metallic. A friend of mine saw these and said, “oh these look afrofuturist” so I looked it up and realised that I was that.”

Jennings has been involved with the movement ever since 2008 and has been integral in this new wave of Afrofuturism over the past decade. “I am very proud to be a part of this new form of what is known as Afrofuturism” he says. One of Jennings’ most notable works includes illustrating the graphic novel adaptation of Octavia E. Butler’s novel Kindred in which an African-American woman married to a white man time travels back to slavery against her will, an experience Jennings described as being “very difficult, but very rewarding and proud to have been a part of.”

JOHN
John Ira Jennings

When looking at music in Afrofuturism, a lot of it has its basis in genres that are widely accepted as ‘black-founding’; hip-hop, R’n’B, neo-soul, jazz and funk have been the domineering sounds of the movement. However, it would be silly not to suggest the pioneering of house music, especially techno, as afrofuturist.

Berlin-based American DJ and cartoonist Alan Oldham got his start in techno after he was asked by childhood friend and pioneering techno producer Derrick May to create illustrations for his label, Transmat. “It kinda introduced me into the world of Detroit techno…back then it was magical, it was really a thing,” he says.

Hip-hop in its very early stages sounded like early house music, and this sound and this idea of house and techno music as black has been lost now. Oldham says, “black people are defined now by hip-hop…we are limited to these kinds of boxes. With a lot of these younger generations discarding these art forms, the former gets picked up by others.”

There is this idea that black people are monolithic, which is most certainly not true. Oldham tells of the time he was at a family gathering when he met one his younger cousins, “I was introduced to my cousin, and my other relative introduced me as a ‘famous techno DJ’ to which she replied, “isn’t that what all those white folks listen to?” … a lot of people don’t get it – through no fault of their own. It’s kinda tough.”

However, Oldham is confident that we will move towards an afrofuturism that will see more experimental techno music.

It is because of Afrofuturism that artists like Janelle Monáe, Kelela, FKA Twigs and films like Black Panther have been allowed to flourish.

 

 

 

 

 

 

With Black Panther, we are shown a narrative that places an African country at the forefront of technological innovation untouched by colonisation and other negative outside influences. The fictional county of Wakanda is the dream of the ancestors.

For decades black scholars and artists alike had imagined a life where blackness wasn’t seen as a bad thing and where black people could flourish in areas they couldn’t in ‘real life’. Black Panther in a sense echoes the writings of authors like Colson Whitehead who imagined places where black nations had unbounded wealth and a sense of real community untouched by racism and systemic oppressions.

Although Black Panther is fictional, both Jennings and Oldham recount the sentiments of unity the film had inspired. “the emotional and cultural gains are far reaching because it means so much for someone to see someone who looks like them or like someone they know – it’s empowering” Jennings said.

Although African American in its approach Afrofuturism has found its way back to the continent of Africa, for Jennings – this is an exciting prospect, “our brothers and sisters from the diaspora – they want in they’re like hey! I got dreams too, what are we going to do together?” he says; however, he knows that there is some sort of push back against that but says that “this is the beauty of these things, we don’t have to agree all the time. But it is beautiful to see people from Africa interested in this work and engaging.”

The likes of Kenyan artist Osborne Macharia, Burkina Faso architect Diébédo Francis Kéré and Senegalese fashion designer Selly Raby Kane are all influencers of Afrofuturism in Africa and are all respected.

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Magadi from Osborne Macharia’s Kenya’s League of Extravagant Grannies. Osborne Macharia

There is a distinct story that Afrofuturism sets out to tell. There’s an idea of reclaiming an identity, one that was so brutally and forcibly erased from black people and using this identity alongside ideas of technology to create something new. What Afrofuturism allows is for those who engage with it to ask questions, try to reconcile themselves with the past and to move forward in positive ways that would ultimately bring about some sort of accord among black African nations and their descendants.

The future is black, the future is Afro.