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The Worlds of Ntozake ShangeAND DIGITAL STORYTELLING

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for colored girls–heteronormativity and misconceptions surrounding sexual health

by Tirzah Anderson 1 Comment

Shange, highlights conceptions of heteronormativity and the perceived association of sexual health with sexuality in “for colored girl who have considered suicide/when the rainbow is enuf” through the discussion the women have about testing for sexually transmitted infections. In this conversation, Shange highlighted the stereotypes and assumptions that were prevalent surrounding HIV, especially in this time period when there was a lack of research surrounding STIs. It is particularly interesting to note that she highlights heteronormative ideas through a discussion between women, who she is thus implicating for contributing to a heteronormative system that perpetuates homophobic notions of masculinity, but she also shows the ways in which men, even gay men, may have contributed to patriarchal and heteronormative systems.

One woman suggested that another woman’s man had been cheating on her and said she specifically saw him at a gay bar with another man. They implied that because he was gay, she needed to get tested for “aids”, which she replied to with “i know you’re not suggesting he’s on the dl”. Shange illustrates the association many people create between HIV/Aids and gay men, specifically Black gay men. Further, she is confused and unsure about how she contracted HIV and how she will continue her life with HIV, signaling to the lack of knowledge surrounding HIV during this time. She asks “am I going to die?”, despite the fact that HIV’s symptoms are treatable. In this, Shange reflects a lack of understanding around HIV, that often led to misconceptions around how it was contracted and how it would affect relationships.

Additionally, it is important to note that when she finds out that she is HIV positive, she tells the man, who ultimately becomes aggressive and hits her. His own internalized homophobia and heteronormative ideas of manhood lead to his abuse of a woman. This is important to note, because Shange is showing that not only is the homophobia he is experiencing affecting his life, but it is also permeating throughout the community leading to a greater heteronormative system.

This conversation surrounding HIV/Aids is still highly relevant due to the ways that it continues to affect Black communities in different ways based on sex education and the misconceptions around it. Shange was highlighting the ways that it was perceived in many Black communities through this work. I have attached a video which highlights the current ways in which HIV/Aids is affecting Black communities.

When Sorry is Not Enuf

by Dayna Beatty 1 Comment

Of Ntozake’s pieces we’ve read so far, this one was my favorite. In particular, I loved the words of the character “Lady in Blue.” The first of her monologues, on page 12 was incredibly powerful. The words Ntozake chose, “puddle,” “waters,” “circlin,” “bleed,” all have a certain momentum to them that implies fluidity and movement. However, she also describes an encounter with someone who is verbally assaulting her on the street. This sort of interaction, one that is all too familiar for any woman that has walked the streets of New York at dark, is a powerful reminder of the constant pressure to submit. A daily call to behave a certain way and allow one’s self to become subject to another’s orders.

 

The idea of being trapped in the “six blocks of cruelty” that for this character is home was physically immobilizing. The “tunnel closing,” the closed doors, the sun not shining, all of these words that restrict space make readers feel as though they too are trapped within the mind of this character. The use of physically fluid language in the first monologue compared to the language in the second one are polar opposites. Ntozake goes from describing “a tunnel with a train” to a “tunnel closing,” a situation that includes mobility and one that does not. These two speeches by this character in proximity to each other produce an extra emphasis on the feelings of entrapment she describes.

 

Towards the end of one of the last monologues by the Lady In Blue, Ntozake writes about the concept of sorry. “I’m not even sorry/ bout you bein sorry you can carry all the guilt & grime ya wanna/ just don’t give it to me/ I can’t use another sorry.” This line was my favorite from this book. The burden on women to accept an apology for something that someone else did is not only indicative of the gendered climate we live in today, but also demonstrative of the unpaid mental labor that women are asked to do everyday. To accept an apology, to move on, to stop letting one event affect you for the rest of your life, to do the work to make someone else feel better about themselves.  With all the media coverage around sexual assault and a growing acceptance for vocalizing past experiences, this idea of “sorry” is prevalent. Along with the burden of reliving the trauma of sexual assault is the burden of accepting the “sorry” of someone else. Sorry is a word that does nothing for the survivor but only serves to alleviate the guilt of the aggressor.

 

Retracing Roots

by Dayna Beatty 2 Comments

Ntozake shared the stories of the women in her life that taught her what it means to be a strong, independent woman. Coming away from her talk, I felt a renewed sense of appreciate for the women in my life. I went home from that talk realizing two powerful forces that have affected me—my mother and my education. But what struck me most from Ntozake’s talk was the need to reflect on the village that works together to bring each of those forces to fruition.

 

My mother is one of the strongest women I know. At age 16 she made a personal decision that I could not even imagine making as a full grown, adult woman. At age 25 she left the only country she’d ever known to come to America to build an entirely new life for herself. She raised my brother and I to be humble and appreciative for everything we have, because she gave up everything to give it to us. And now, past the age of fifty, my mother has become the most solid force in my life. It is thanks to her that I found the strength to make some of the most challenging decisions and get through the most difficult of times. It is thanks to her that I know what a strong woman looks like—someone who isn’t afraid to step outside the lines and create her own path.

 

My education is very much the same way. After hearing Ntozake talk, I felt incredibly lucky to be apart of a community of women that has such a strong sense of legacy. From her mention of the panty raids, to the contemporary activism I see on campus today, I realize how proud I am to call Barnard College my home. Through this institution, I have discovered myself. I have learned how to be like the woman who raised me. I have learned that there is nothing more powerful than a woman with a mission on her mind—because I see that around me every day.

 

Ntozake’s advice was to reach out to the communities that have helped shape us, and use the gift of this education we receive to affect change. In the days since Ntozake’s talk, I’ve been making a daily conscious effort to do this. I share articles, stories, and lessons I’ve learned in classes with my mother. I ask her to share these with her network of women who have supported her. I have begun to write a letter to my mother’s mother, something I never imagined I’d be able to do because my tongue speaks a different language than hers does. Using mangled hiragana letters, dictionaries, and elementary-grade vocabulary, I’ve managed to piece together a paragraph written in my own words. For the first time in my life, I’m taking the steps to communicate with a role-model in my life who, up until now, I’ve only been able to speak with through other people. I’m learning the power of my own voice, through inspiration from Ntozake. In thinking of a final project, I’d like to incorporate my heritage as a first-generation American on my mom’s side and my bi-racial identity into whatever I choose to produce as my culminating assignment for this course.

the journey of self love, tenderness, and fulfillment

by Tirzah Anderson 1 Comment

 

In December of 2017, I, a 17-year-old first-year in college went to a SZA concert. Of course, I hada list of my favorite songs from ctrl. Not on that list was “Garden (Say it Like Dat)”, because I perceived the song to be about a lover fulfilling a woman and assuring her. However, during the concert, SZA explained the true importance of the song, as she revealed that the song was an ode to herself. She wrote the song to confirm herself, assure herself, and most importantly love herself.  In reading “nappy edges” I immediately thought of this song as I found similar themes throughout “nappy edges” when Shange described the relationship that the women in these poems developed within themselves.

Throughout “nappy edges” Shange notes the importance of the self in finding happiness, love, and appreciation. She specifically outlines this at the end of “resurrection of the daughter”, where Shange wrote

” she wd find someone who cd survive tenderness

she wd feed someone who waz in need of her fruits “

 

Later, Shange then wrote,

 

” & she waz last seen in the arms of herself

blushing

having come to herself ”

 

These quotes showcase the ways in which the woman in the poem was able to feed herself with love, provide herself with tenderness, and love herself, which ultimately led to her own identity and her own livelihood. This subject was able to support herself and found that she, herself, was “in need of her fruit” and “could survive tenderness”. Thus, she was able to fully appreciate what she could offer as support and was able to utilize those strengths for herself.

Self-love and appreciation are integral to finding one’s own identity and being comfortable in oneself, which is something highlighted by both Shange within “nappy edges” and by SZA in “Garden (Say It Like Dat).

 

A Friend is Hard to Press Charges Against

by Breana Beaudreault 2 Comments

What I found most interesting about Shange’s introduction for the second edition of For Colored Girls, along with her insights about what has changed since its first publication, is the way that the public received her attitude towards men. Unfortunately, all too often, pieces of academic work, theory, even spaces that are women-centered are seen less as works toward revolutionary change, brave spaces, or amplifying voices that aren’t heard, and instead, the automatic assumption is misandry at its core. I agree with what she said; often the males portrayed in her book are healthy portrayals of black men. However, it is endlessly frustrating that when women detail in any way the ways they have to suffer, are pushed into discomfort and are silenced, it becomes a personal problem for each man, rather than pointing to a larger systematic problem that places multiple oppressions on women of color, even more so than black men. There is one particular part of the poem that really hit a nerve this week with the events of the past week. In this part, Shange details one of the main fears that many sexual harassment and assault victims face of being written off and remaining unheard, particularly if you have any interaction with the male. In fact, according to the CDC, an devastating 54% of rape cases go unreported because of this likely compounding on other event-related traumas. Even worse, in some states, there has to be evidence of kicking, biting, or scratching to show that you have resisted. Its the same feeling that Shange discusses because, though men are clearly unwilling to take responsibility for the ills of their ilk, they need to understand the ways these violences against women play out. It almost hurt to read the poem, because some of this rhetoric was the kind that played out during the Kavanaugh trial. “A rapist is always a stranger /to be legitimate /someone you never saw / a man wit obvious problems”. Kavanaugh presented, to the population that wanted to see this in him, as a man with no problems, as he was well educated and up for such a high-power job. Because Blasey-Ford had been at a party with Kavanaugh, likely knew him, the undertones of the questions directed at her were synthesized into Shange’s words when she said “a misunderstanding /you know /these things happen/are you sure / you didn’t suggest / had you been drinking”. It hurts to hear these words from the late 70s still being used as grounds for dismissing a woman, even a white woman, even a well-educated and very composed woman, a woman in our eyes that had every quality that would set her up for credibility rather than dismissal. This topic is heavy on our hearts right now, as evidenced by the demonstration on alma mater after the senate hearing.

For Colored Girls and #MeToo

by Brianna Sturkey 1 Comment

For Colored Girls is a classic, timeless, and moving master piece (and those are only the words I can fathom, if I am being forced to describe her work). Shange hits the nail on the head on so many topics that are taboo in the Black community such as abortion, rape, isolation, self discovery, and so much more. The part that hit the nail on the head for me was when the Lady in Red talks about rape saying ” women relinquish all personal rights/the presence of a man/who apparently cd be considered a rapist.” Two names come to mind after initially reading this quote. Anita Hill. Christine Blasey Ford. These two women had “relinquished all personal rights” to their lives, stories, and peace of mind the moment they came forward with their stories of sexual assault against powerful men. Both these women, Black and White, were shamed endlessly in the public eye and started social movements that brought the issues of rape and sexual harassment to the forefront of the American consciousness. However, “these men friends of [thiers]/ who smile nice/ stay employed.” This line is the most heartbreaking in Shange’s work, because it the truest. Men who smile nice and have power and influence will always remain employed, regardless of the trauma they cause. This happened with Clarence Thomas and now with Brett Kavanaugh. This cycle, 27 years apart, is a tale as old as time that criss crosses every racial and ethnic boundary. For Colored Girls is the #MeToo movement and the #MeToo movement is For Colored Girls. These two things are not separate and this is a radical and important connection to be made. Shange’s work not only liberates the agony that Black women often suffer in silence, she is also inadvertently pushing freedom for every woman regardless of race.