Somebody, anybody, sing a black girl song

All of my blogs are super personal to me.  Because of the different feelings I have had with my natural hair journey...feeling empowered, feeling invisible, feeling beautiful, feeling unpretty, feeling free to be myself...this blog entry is extremely dear to me, and hopefully will speak to you.


A week ago after trying out my new staple two strand twist, before it had the chance to get as big as I like it, a close relative walked up to me and greeted me, "Hey Aunt Jemima!" Realizing the inappropriateness of this comment, but also the inappropriateness of fully addressing this comment in a hospital, I said nothing.  But I'll address it now.  In a public forum.  For all ignorant people that are uncomfortable with natural blackness.  Mind you, I am not an advocate to say that every black woman should wear a natural.  I am an advocate for my definition of beauty being just as good as yours.


This Aunt Jemima comment could have stemmed from several areas of hate or historical slander that has plagued the black community. Aunt Jemima represented several stereotypes of black women or reasons why black women were not as beautiful or worthy as their white counterparts.  The Aunt Jemima prototype was very dark skinned, overweight, loud, and I assumed had kinky hair, since it was always covered with a handkerchief.


Why would a decently educated black woman call another black woman Aunt Jemima given the historical significance of this black caricature?  Yes Aunt Jemima represents many positive qualities that the black mother prides herself on, being nurturing, caring, and able to be a mother to children that are not her own.  But please forgive me if I don't take this name calling as a compliment.  I know that it was not intended in that way.


You see, whereas this family member may see any one of my "Aunt Jemima-esque" qualities as a negative, I have had to learn to love and accept my brown skin, my non-relaxed hair, and my curves.  However, I will return to the non-relaxed hair as the focal point of her diss, as we share similarities in the other attributes.


I went natural just to see what God blessed me with.  I have had relaxed hair for as long as I remember, maybe second or third grade.  I wanted to know what Chavonne looked like, what I truly look like.  Little did I know that I would have my family making cracks at my hair, forever commenting on what it was or was not doing, and constantly telling me of their approval or disapproval.  I guess they really think that their opinion counts...well not anymore.  I had to learn that how someone counts themselves beautiful has nothing to do with me and is none of my business.  I've got to define beauty for myself.  It is important for the black community to do that for ourselves, as a whole.  We constantly ascribe to what society defines as beautiful.  Look at the cover of any magazine and you'll quickly figure out what that represents.  Unfortunately, that leaves our kinks out, especially if it's not that Hawaiian Silky type that waves up when water hits it.


I know that I'm beautiful.  My "black" qualities are just as beautiful as Beyonce's white ones.  My shapely nose, my child bearing hips, my voluptuous lips, and my kinky curly hair are wonderfully me, exquisitely black...Aunt Jemima my ass.


Anyone remember this....http://youtu.be/36eD11Euk80