Independence Day and Collective Memory

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Independence Day and Collective Memory

While I was in college, I used to send a mass email of the text of Frederick Douglass’s memorable speech, “The Meaning of July Fourth for the Negro”. I was a little… hmm… frustrated… at the time by my fresh, more nuanced understandings of how America has functioned in her history –realizations that for many come, unfortunately, after leaving grade school. So I was more than happy to hold up this speech as my rejection of the most exemplary celebration of AMERICA: Independence Day. I was fascinated with the boldness of this oration, given before an audience on July 5, 1852. Not initially printed and distributed, but delivered with the full force of his voice and emotion to folks who I imagine did not sense the irony in inviting a Negro to speak at their July 4th Celebration.

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NYC's "You Can Touch My Hair" - Some observations

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NYC's "You Can Touch My Hair" - Some observations

Unwanted hair touching is a thing, y’all. Yes, it has happened to me. My tightly coiled hair has been natural for most of my life and in my adulthood I have worn it in a short afro, in box braids, twisted, in loose styles, and currently in slender locs. I am generally a “worst case scenario” thinker, which means I try to plan for random, mostly outlandish occurrences. So, per my natural mental processes, I have conceived a plan for the reasonable likelihood that someone would engage in unauthorized fondling of my hair. For the grabby woman in my imagination, I’ve already decided to grab a boob. For the man, I’m going for his package. “Who are you to determine what is open for exploration on my body?” I’d say. Cue slow clap from the crowd that has gathered. End scene.

The need to guard against such interactions is real for so many folks who join the ranks of those who are outwardly “other” in the United States. Black women are right in there for very specific reasons. So as social media and the Black Blogosphere exploded with news that un-ruly.com would host the exhibition, “You Can Touch My Hair,” I knew I had to go.

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