BLACK FOLKS AND THE 'N' WORD

There is an ongoing debate in the black community over our use of the word nigger. On one side are those who feel that we only reinforce the racist history and negative context of the word when we use it. On the other side are those who acknowledge the same history, but feel that we can transform the context by infusing a different meaning. I agree that the ways in which we use it amongst ourselves have expanded the context, but I also feel like the history of the word is all but insurmountable. I don’t look to escape that history, in fact I embrace it. Good and bad, my history makes me who I am, and I am very much proud of that. But the reality is that the word nigger is stuck in time, and to those holding most of the positions of power and authority in this country, I would be less threatening if I resigned myself to the same time. Simply put, I can’t afford to remind them of who they think I am.

For most of us who use the word, I think it’s out of habit more than anything else. We’ve become comfortable using the word, at least within our own familiar circles, and it has become a part of our everyday vocabulary. While I don’t think we have any harmful intentions (for the most part) when we use the word to describe each other, I do think it’s a habit that is more counterproductive than not. The problem with habits is that by definition, we exercise them with little premeditation. But if we fail to examine them to determine whether they are really good for us, we turn a blind eye to what harm they may be causing. It’s like smoking cigarettes; now there’s a dangerous habit that can be very difficult to break. But the more you smoke, the more you increase the chances it will kill you. How many people would continue to smoke if they had that thought every time they lit up? Another problem with habits is that when you’re following blindly, it can be difficult to tell whether you’re following your direction or someone else’s. Nigger is a gift of hatred to remind us of our inferiority. Contained beneath the white bow and wrapping is a doll with nappy hair and ‘blackface’, a book with empty pages to prevent us from learning anything, and some rope in case we ever get out of line. We’ve become so accustomed to receiving this gift, we don’t realize that we’re giving it to each other, and we’re continuing down the path that was laid for us.

I want to take a moment to elevate my voice for those who aim to use nigger in a way that gives it a different meaning, particularly those in the hip-hop generation, of which I am a card-carrying member. I love the way we are able to take something so negative and turn it into a positive, as that is one of the hallmarks of perseverance. For us, nigger has transcended (to some extent) its traditional connotations, and has become a term of endearment, and even a standard component of our greeting. I know that “Hello, how are you?” doesn’t quite capture what “What’s shaking my nigga?” does. I also know that my niggas are my closest cohorts, and we have the best intentions for each other, and would do anything to help each other along our respective journeys. Despite this however, the history of the word nigger is etched in stone, and I think it’s naive of us to think that we could rewrite that history. Even if we succeed in taking some of the power out of the word, the power overall still remains with those who have written that context. To them, nigger will always exemplify that history and carry those negative perceptions of us. That perception is often the key to our success, and the reason for our perpetual failure. We have to understand that when the powers that be are peeking into our culture, looking for signs that we still know our place, they don’t bother to decipher meaning. If it looks like a nigger, and raps like a nigger, it’s a nigger. Rather than focusing on taking the power out of the word, we would do better to take the power out of the perception. If enough of us put black women in graduation gowns in our music videos, rather than in bikinis, and instead of making it rain on dem hos we built a school for dem kids, I think we could go a long way to change how we are perceived.

As I sat down to write this, I began to realize how conflicted I am on this issue. I know that throughout history we have been lied to, herded like cattle, and sold into slavery. We were able to gain freedom from the iron shackles, only to trade them for society’s. We have had to wage a war on soil WE cultivated for the right to vote in elections that don’t benefit us. We’ve been mocked, spit on, hung, and are regularly victims of racial profiling as a precursor to our denial of due process. They called Martin and Malcolm niggers, and they still call us nigger to remind of us that history. But I don’t think we intend to submerge each other in that history when we use it amongst ourselves. I certainly don’t, and that’s exactly why I have continued to use it amidst the current debate. To be completely honest, I’m more concerned with the perception; that’s what needs to change. We will be called for what we represent ourselves to be. Until we change that perception, we will continue to be hindered by the stigma of the word, because overall, we’re not doing enough to discredit the label. This responsibility is one I am all too familiar with, as I was brought up to set the example, and hold up the banner for the race. (I suspect that’s why the perception is so important to me.) I understand now that composing this has been a struggle because I have had to examine both my habits, and my contributions to our advancement. I have concluded that personally, I intend to continue using it while being conscious of how I use it, and who I use it with, and in front of. Furthermore, I will be sure that my actions and my intent are indicative of my character, and the example I want to set.