Sweeping "Uncouth" Narratives

Happy New Year, Fellow Phoenixes!

There have been various discussions, think pieces, and scholarly journal articles that state what black voices sounds like in literature. Whether stereotyped on television or subtly belittled in scholarly journals, the look, and sound of our voice has always been up for discussion. If a person were to read our books, would they be able to tell if a black woman is the author? Could a television viewer dissect their favorite show and know that the screenwriter is black?  Are books that contain grit, drugs, and sex meant to be swept under the rug while all other black narratives gain some sunlight?

Let’s Go Back a Lil’ Bit

During the Harlem Renaissance, there was a focus on re-imaging the black person. To re-invent the image of what people think we are versus who we really are. We were attempting to dismantle the “Mammy” and “Zip Coon” images and shine a light on the fact that we are intellectual beings who were not only born for serving. This focus was called The New Negro Movement. Although The New Negro Movement emerged in 1895, when the Harlem Renaissance exploded and black voices, art, and insight were in demand, it was imperative for many to hush the voices that attempted to “go back into the demeaning images and clichés.” For example, Zora Neale Hurston. Hurston was an educated woman who was well versed in folklore. It was her niche. Nonetheless, she received a vast amount of criticism due to the vernacular she used in her writing. Their Eyes Were Watching God was entirely written in “black folk” dialect that the people from the The New Negro Movement made sure to belittle. Apparently, that was not the voice to be used during a time where black Americans believed that their art and writings would grant them democracy and equality.

“Sterling Brown and Zora Neale Hurston, both leaders in black folklore, found ways to make art reflect their academic research. Brown produced a poetry volume entitled Southern Road, and Hurston sought to transmit the traditions of southern black folk, traditions she believed were in danger of being lost. Hurston’s novels Their Eyes Were Watching God, and Moses, Man of the Mountain are in the tradition of the folk novel, saturated with black folk speech and oral practices, but call our attention to the sharp distinction between what was viewed as high and low culture. Similarly, Haitian-born Jacques Roumain made the lives of toiling laborers and peasants of Haiti, known through his novel Masters of the Dew. Attitudes toward Southern black rural culture, which many believed was too closely associated with the “low culture” of slavery, were complex indeed. As a result, Hurston would have to wait for nearly seventy years before receiving the critical acclaim she well deserved”

— (http://exhibitions.nypl.org/africanaage/essay-renaissance.html)

Not Much Has Changed

Thankfully, Alice Walker brought Zora Neale Hurston's career back into public awareness. Nevertheless, it is a misfortune that such a talented writer as Zora Neale Hurston was belittled and swept under the rug due to the voice she chose to use. I believe it was because that despite her being an educated woman, readers assumed her dialect choice in her writings translated to her level of intelligence. Not the case of course, but based on what I have seen today, Ebonics is deemed as an intellectual tracker rather than a cultural vocabulary the world has embraced. On the other hand, a writer such as Langston Hughes had his pieces seen as “high art” due to the language he used in his poetry. Both are brilliant writers.

    In the 21st century, the same divide still resides, but there is a new genre (technically the 1970s, but anyway)- street lit. (The purpose of this article is not to determine whether or not street lit or hood novels belong in the African American canon.) Teri Woods' commercially successful novel, True to the Game was one of the few books that I read discreetly—"tucked under my pillow when my mama was around" kinda discreet. Nonetheless, there was still criticism that subtly regarded Teri Woods' book as low culture. Once again, a black voice being belittled because it does not fit into a box we were told to sit in quietly.  Comparing Zora Neale Hurston to Teri Woods is not the goal. Calling out the idea that it is acceptable to belittle a voice or ostracize it within our own community unless it fits within our story—that is my goal. Whether it’s Sula by Toni Morrison or Bishop by Miz, both are a part of a narrative that many of us can recognize. Throwing subtle shots to demean will only discourage writers and ensure they bury their stories and hide their imagination. All sides and stories should be heard from us, no matter the dialect, intensity or genre.

All of Our Narratives are Essential

There is no specific outline or box to define black voice in writing. All of our narratives are essential to reach wherever we are in life. It’s all one collective that’s absolutely beautiful if you step back and browse through all of our stories. There is an imprint within the black voice in the literature that continues to subtly mark stories as low art or high art and it does no one any good. If you are a writer, experiment with the various black authors before you, and then write your story your way. Unapologetically write your story, as it is recognizing this: Once you wake up black and you write your story—that is black voice.