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Feminism and Fanon

I really enjoyed reading Fanon’s chapter “Algeria Unveiled” from his book A Dying Colonialism. Having read his article knowing that I was going to transform his words into a poem “Shange style,” gave me a new appreciation for his words. Personally, I find reading pieces by theorists like Marx and Foucault quite difficult because the writing is not as approachable as some other more contemporary authors. I expected Fanon’s work to be much of the same but I was pleasantly surprised to find that I enjoyed this piece in particular—specifically, the style of it. Fanon discusses the Western notion that women who wear the veil are in need of saving and how this idea has become militarized to justify white intervention in the Middle East. In previous courses I have read Lila Abu-Lughod’s “Do Muslim Women Really Need Saving,” and this piece echoed the sentiment of contemporary Middle Eastern scholars, which was refreshing to read from a male scholar writing in 1965. He describes how the veil is understood in the West as a mechanism of oppression, and by intervening in the Algeria and “saving” these women, they were “symbolically unveiled.” (Fanon 42) However, from the perspective of the colonized this symbolic unveiling can also be understood as rape—of both body and culture. What the colonizer understands as “freedom,” (as motivated by military goals,) the colonized sees this same action as an expression of violence against a physical and mental space. Fanon writes, in regards to the “saving” of Algerian women by the colonizers, “every face that offered itself to the bold and impatient glance of the occupier, was a negative expression of the fact that Algeria was beginning to deny herself and was accepting the rape of the colonizer.” (Fanon 43) Essentially, that the unveiling of women was the acceptance of colonization and one’s position as subordinate to the colonizer. Fanon then explores the effect of this, which was the choice to employ women in the fight against the colonizer. Fanon writes that “this decision to involve women in active elements of the Algerian Revolution was not reached lightly” and that at the start, female involvement in the war was restricted to “married women whose husbands were militants,” then gradually expanded to include “widows or divorced women.” (Fanon 51) Eventually, the volunteering of unmarried girls grew so high that “the political leaders…. Removed all restrictions to accept indiscriminately the support of all Algerian women.” (Fanon 51) While unveiling of women was a violent action in the name of Western perceptions of freedom, this permission to fight against the colonizer was the type of freedom that Algerian woman wanted. Fanon illuminates the key difference between Western perceptions of freedom and what women in Algeria truly want.

 

Women then became an instrumental part of the war and proved to be key militants in the fight against colonization. Fanon spends the later portion of his piece describing how it is that these Western stereotype of “innocence” among women who wear the veil was then militarized by Algerian women in their fight for independence. By mobilizing notions of femininity and its stereotypical ties to weakness and the veil, Algerian women became key players in the resistance, unassuming soldiers that were able to infiltrate European’s by using their own misinformed notions against them.

 

The idea of “saving women” at the surface level can be understood as feminist as freeing an entire country of women from the oppressive man, but in actuality, the story is quite different, and this is what Fanon attempts to make clear. The veil is a garment worn by women throughout history. It is just as anti-feminist to force a woman to wear a veil as it is to force her not to wear the veil. By forcing women to remove the veil, woman by woman, “piece by piece, the flesh of Algeria laid bare.” (Fanon 32) This physical removal of a garments, against the will of the wearer, is extremely possessive, dangerous, and anti-feminist. Fanon does the work of demonstrating how this is the case, and in my opinion his work can be understood as an attempt at an early, male’s feminist critique of colonialism.

 

Having read Shange’s works and understanding her emphasis on movement in literature, I began to see that in Fanon’s work as well. His piece is written in a very approachable and lyrical way, yet his words reflect the mood of the piece. His words of conquer are violent and the language he picks to illuminate this are visible throughout this piece. He uses words like “flesh,” “eroticism,” “brutality,” and “sadism” throughout his piece to evoke a feeling of forced entry—encroachment on physical space and culture. I tried to use the same type of forceful language throughout my poem to produce the same kind of effect. This exercise demonstrated to me how important a “mood” of a piece is—how choosing very specific words have a certain effect that is a deliberate choice made by the author to make the readers feel a certain way.

The Dilemma of Decolonization

Passion and rage, nurtured

Discovering beyond

The present, the self-hatred, abdication and denial

An era capable of redemption

 

Discovering beyond the present because

There is little to marvel at

Little to fall in love with/ to come to terms with

Delving deeper instead

Discovering instead a past of glory

 

The above poem is my attempt at rewording and rereading Fanon in a Shange-like manner. The excerpt I chose to poeticize was from the chapter “On National Culture” in which Fanon dissects the process of conjuring from an idealized past a “national culture” that the colonized intellectual is tasked with. He describes the resentment towards the colonizer and their hegemonic control over every aspect of the colonized’s life. Consequentially, the colonized intellectual must struggle internally with everything they have been indoctrinated with about their history. The colonized intellectual is consumed by trying to prove to the colonizer but especially themself that they aren’t inferior, uncivilized, less than. So they turn to the past, trying to dig up proof of their humanity. They however only end up idealizing and overcompensating their past. It’s this desperate and incessant need to define the self outside of the box that the colonizer has so meticulously built. Shange asks us in Lost in Language and Sound “where are we to go?” if we rid ourselves of the white man. “Having delivered ourselves no way of naming the universe outside of the English language, where are we to go?” It’s the same dilemma of decolonization that Fanon expresses; the conscious colonized person struggles to conceptualize the black self outside of the oppression that has so greatly defined it.

Fanon’s passage immediately brought to mind a quote from Toni Morrison that resonates with me on a daily basis as I navigate white spaces as a black woman. Originally spoken in 1975 at a public lecture at Portland State University, Morrison sums up the toll racism plays on black people: it distracts us.

“The function, the very serious function of racism, which is distraction. It keeps you from doing your work. It keeps you explaining over and over again, your reason for being. Somebody says you have no language and so you spend 20 years proving that you do. Somebody says your head isn’t shaped properly so you have scientists working on the fact that it is. Somebody says that you have no art so you dredge that up. Somebody says that you have no kingdoms and so you dredge that up. None of that is necessary. There will always be one more thing.”

All colonized people, whether or not they qualify as intellectuals, are faced with this existential plight of overcompensating to gain basic humanity. Being a student in a PWI and specifically an Ivy League university, it is very common for students of color to defend their communities and cultures from ignorant white students. They feel frustrated yet dignified in explaining how problematic a student or professor or text or policy is and they work themselves up about others’ ignorance. I made a personal vow some time ago to not waste any breath, sweat, or tears over proving my humanity to others. I refuse to be distracted by racism.

Of Woman Born & Limitless Love

Adrienne Rich’s introduction to her book Of Woman Born showed her growth and elaborated on her reflections in the ten years since first publishing the book. Throughout the introduction, Rich points to the many nuanced facets of motherhood that complicate the relationship, mainly the way systemic pressures and oppressions shape the way these relationships come do be (or don’t) and how they grow and progress in reaction to the child’s specific environment. When Rich spoke about black motherhood and referenced literature by afro- and carribean-american women and the ways they tackle the “specific cultural differences in mother-daughter interactions”, I couldn’t help but think of the multitudes of stories of ways these cultural differences have played out between my own mother and myself. This particular topic had been on my mind today, and after reading the section on black motherhood, I was naturally prompted to go back to an article my mother sent me just this morning. Having been born and raised in Panama, my mother and I have often struggled to find common ground or to understand where the other is coming from, not due to lack of trying, but due to the environments that we were raised in. We have worked hard to understand each other’s love languages, to communicate effectively, and to really listen when the other is speaking. To this point, she had forwarded a Roxane Gay article about growing up with Haitian-American parents, an article that was full of quotes that I can remember from my childhood almost exactly the same. Some of the most striking to me were “a closed door meant we were probably up to no good. A closed door meant we were trying to shut our parents out of our lives when they wanted nothing more than to have their lives fully entwined with theirs.” The idea of boundaries and privacy are key concepts in healthy American families, but one that was utterly unheard of to my mother. I was able to see this tension even between my American-born father, who accepted my requests for space and boundaries immediately, and my mother, who seemed truly shocked at his reaction and hurt by what she perceived as my not needing her. However, when she sent the article, as you can see in the copy I’ve attached, she wrote  “Hi Bre—this article will help you understand the “me”, my love + my belie[fs]”. Although it has been hard at times, particularly when I was young and saw relationships functioning differently than my own, I am reminded and truly overwhelmed by the uniqueness and, as Gay puts it, the limitlessness of love that I have been given and taught to give back.

roxane gay article pdf

 

The Lost Generation

by Brianna Sturkey 1 Comment

The poem titled ‘ii. Improvisation” is a cautionary narrative in which Ntozake Shange weaves a generational pattern of sexism, gender, and voice that follows women like shadows throughout their lives. In this poem, she begins with the phrase “there is something caught in my throat” and this imagery of choking is continuously repeated throughout every stanza. The significance of this phrase indicates her lack of voice due to the presence of male domination that consumes her physically and mentally. However, she refuses to allow this male subjection to control her daughter as well. She repeatedly “checks” on her daughter to ensure that she is still “sleeping” and not experiencing the atrocities that she is. This desperate plea by Shange to secure the innocence of her daughter ultimately reveals this poem as a vision of collective womanhood and identity. This “daughter” is a symbol of younger women who have been spared from the degradation of their ancestors due to their strength and sheer will to survive. The ending where Shange refuses materialistic items such as flowers, white wine, or a house and instead states that she wants “this place out of [her] throat.” By ending this poem with the same phrase she begins with unveils the true cost of freedom and how women struggle not only for themselves, but for their survival as a collective identity in the past, present, and future.

I choose the song “ I Remember” by Lauryn Hill preformed live, because I feel as though the tones of ancestry that this song exudes runs parallel with this specific poem. Furthermore in the lyrics, Hill’s voice noticeably cracks during her singing and it reminded me of Shange’s phrase “there is something stuck in my throat”. Ultimately this song demonstrates a similar vulnerability that Shange brilliantly illustrates in “ii. Improvisations” through the flaws and hardships of womanhood, but how hope still somehow remains at the end of both the song and the poem like a lighthouse at the bay.

“My Pen is a Machete”: Transforming English

by Ariel Leachman 1 Comment

it is most clear during

lovemaking

when the separation of everyday life lifts for a while/

when a kiss/ and a stroke/ and enter my lover

i am also a child re-entering my mother. . .

i want to return/ to a womb-state of harmony/ and also to the ancient world

i enter my lover

but it is she in her orgasm who returns

i see her face for a long moment/ the unconscious bliss that an infant carries/

the memory of behind its shut eyes.

then when it is she who makes love to me. . .

the intensity/ is also pushing out

a borning!

she comes in/ and is then identified

with the ecstasy that is born. . .

So i too return to the mystery of my mother/and of the world

as it must have been

when the motherbond was exalted.

 

Going through this exercise of rewriting prose as if it were a poem  required me to thing through the purpose of each word, and its significance within a sentence and its purpose. The use of pauses through punctuation is a process that took many attempts to figure out the impact of the word as a function of the authors message. In my decision to create a poem of emotion with the prose from Rich’s “Of Woman Born”, I chose to also create a structural relationship of the words. Each sentence that Rich creates in her prose is a completion of an idea or a continuation of words that relate to one another. In this week’s reading from Shange in ” My Pen is a Machete, she creates intentional responses of the reader to the words in her poems through the pauses in the form of “/” or breaks in stanzas. While reading the pauses made me focus in on particular words and how they related to her overall message in the poem. When re-writing my prose I created the purposeful meaning and emotion of words that otherwise was not captured in prose form, but became more vivid in the form of poetry.

Our twin’s History

by Aissata Ba 1 Comment

Bocas: A Daughter’s Geography

“I have a daughter/ mozambique

I have a son/ angola

Our twins

Salvador & johannesburg/ cannot speak

The same language/ but we fight the same old men/ in the new world…

There is no edges/ no end to the new world/ cuz i have a daughter/ trinidad

I have a son/ san juan/ Our twins

Capetown & palestine/ cannot speak the same language/ but we fight the same old men”

While reading the above quotes, I couldn’t stop myself from thinking and questioning: what are the deeper meanings in Shange naming these countries and cities? What are its purposes or contributions to poem? Why did Shange select these places in particular? Who is this “same old man” she repeated mention throughout the poem? One of the main themes of this poem is that of togetherness or unity beyond the obvious difference. These countries and cities she refers to are located in different parts of the world, however, there are traces of people of color or people of African descent among its population. These countries represent the wide diaspora of the “dislocated” African body and how these shifted African bodies have grown apart to the point where they cannot communicate. They do not share a culture or language anymore, even places as close to one another as Mozambique and Angola. However, in saying “ but we fight the same old men,” Shange is referring to the white men who caused this separation and dislocation of the African bodies. “The same old men” could also be referring to the modern society, reality and pressure on the African body and its diaspora. The battle that needs to be fought by these countries Shange mentions against the “same old men,” could be the battle against racism that people of color have to alway face and continuously have to be fearful of. Shange’s use of these countries and “the same old men” is very effective as it allows you, the reader, to think through who Shange is referring to and to what issue is she alluding to.

Feminism through “We Need a God Who Bleeds Now”

As a Women’s Studies major, I’ve been trained to conduct readings with a feminist lens in mind. Ntozake calls for a God who “bleeds” in her piece, “We Need a God Who Bleeds Now.” This was my favorite piece from her collection of poems entitled A Daughters Geography because it not only challenged traditional, male-oriented ideas about religion, but it pushed back against the historically negative perceptions surrounding menstruation. It suggests that bleeding is a sign of strength rather than weakness. In times past, menstruation was seen as shameful, in some cultures a reason to be sent away from the community, and on an everyday basis, a cause of anxiety and discomfort. Our contemporary climate is not entirely void of this conception, but it has since improved. However, Ntozake’s evocation of menstruation in her piece “We Need a God Who Bleeds Now” suggests that “that time of the month” should not be something shameful, but rather something to be idealized. She writes, “I am/ not wounded I am bleeding to life.” This line resonated with me because it opposes the idea that menstruation is a sign of “dying” within the body but rather, that it is an indication of fertility and femininity—not something that would be hated but rather an characteristic that we should want a God to emanate.

 

Similarly, to state that society needs a female God means that in this particular moment, there is nothing more crucial that to have a female leader. To specifically necessitate a female God rightfully challenges the dominant religious God, a Protestant and Christian religion deeply entrenched in hegemonic, masculine ideologies. I would also go so far as to say that this God is not strictly religious, but rather a governing figure over the world that we require. The message that this piece sends to readers is both powerful and brave.

Please choose a class presentation date!

I need you to fill out two polls, hopefully by Thursday at noon. 

1). Class presentation (Links to an external site.)Links to an external site.:  This poll will help me schedule the class presentations. I need you to rank FIVE DIFFERENT options. I will take options off the poll as dates fill up, so it is in your interests to fill it out early. There will be 2-3 presentations per session. You can find the presentation instructions here.  The poll is also here (Links to an external site.)Links to an external site..

Philosophical Underpinnings–from movement to breath?

Ntozake and Savannah Shange (PBS screenshot)

i can’t count the number of times i have viscerally wanted to attack deform n maim the language that i waz taught to hate myself in/ the language that perpetuates the notions that cause pain to every black child as he/she learns to speak of the world  & the “self”  (LLS 19).

in everything I have ever written & everything I hope to write/ i have made use of what Frantz Fanon called “combat breath” (LLS 19).

 In the interstices of language lie powerful secrets of the culture.
Adrienne RichOf Woman Born 

. . . a woman who can believe in herself, who is a fighter, and who continues to struggle to create a livable space around her, is demonstrating to her daughter that these possibilities exist

Adrienne RichOf Woman Born (247)

I wanted to tell you a bit about why we are reading Fanon and Rich today. (The readings are now linked to the appropriate week on the syllabus–and we will have presentations from Elizabeth and Anna Bella!)  Shange reads so widely that we could spend an entire semester reading her identified influences from Ngugi wa T’iongo and Edouard Glissant to  Judy Grahn and Jessica Hagedorn.  Fanon’s influence as you will see below, is pretty obvious in Shange’s thoughts about breath and

A Daughter’s Geography- A Call for Unity

The poem that stood out to me from the readings this week is Bocas: A Daughter’s Geography. Colonization and the struggle between the powerful and the powerless is something that I often think about and study in a lot of my classes. However, reading Shange’s poem gave me a new perspective on the matter. Amidst the horrors and aftermath of colonization, Shange finds a way to create unity and hope amongst all those who have suffered under imperialist powers:

 

“but I have a daughter/ la habana

i have a son/ guyana

our twins

santiago & brixton cannot speak

the same language

yet we fight the same old men” (A Daughter’s Geography).

 

Throughout her poem, Shange repeats these lines utilizing different cities and countries. She writes about how these geographic locations are different from each other, often speaking different languages. However, they are bonded by the same struggle against imperialist powers, or “the same old men,” as Shange puts it. While the struggle for liberation is an uphill battle, those who are suffering can draw strength from the knowledge that others across the globe are in the fight with them, which is an empowering and beautiful message.

When I first saw Brixton amongst the regions she was talking about, I was wondering why Shange would choose to put a district within the United Kingdom, an imperialist force, within the list. However, I learned that a large percentage of the population in Brixton is of Afro-Caribbean descent. Additionally, in 1981, Brixton was undergoing riots as a result of social and economic problems. This poem by Shange was published in 1983, meaning that the Brixton riots were most likely on her mind. The way that Shange weaves through the globe connecting places of struggle leads me to believe that liberation requires a united global effort.

I’m currently reading Freedom is a Constant Struggle: Ferguson, Palestine, and the Foundations of a Movement by Angela Davis. In her book, Davis talks about the “tweets of Palestinian activists used to provide advice for protestors in Ferguson, on how to deal with tear gas” (42). Palestinians and Black Americans “cannot speak the same language,” however their shared struggle allows them to be empowered by each other, which is the point that I believe Shange was trying to make in her poem.