Music Appreciation

When was the last time you heard a song that made your heart skip a beat? For me, it was about ten minutes ago when I listened to Cassandra Wilson’s rendition of “I Can’t Stand the Rain.” I’ve heard this song at least 50 times, but as I really listened to it, I felt the pain she put into those notes and felt that same pain in the accompanying guitar. I was appreciating music, real music.

Now, I’m an R&B and jazz girl. It’s just in me, so in recent years I’ve been lamenting the virtual disappearance of the likes of Anita Baker, Nina Simone (R.I.P.), pre-1996 Whitney (am I the only one who gets a little teary upon hearing “All the Man I Need”?), Ella Fitzgerald (R.I.P.), Regina Belle, and even the great Cassandra Wilson (I’m a huge fan). Now, some of these women are still performing, but do we hear them? Are they getting radio rotation? No. I have to go to my CDs, old-school R&B stations and Pandora to feel something in music.

India.Arie performing "India's Song" on Oxygen's
India.Arie: Up Close and Personal in 2002

When I’m not time-traveling, I remember that I am so lucky to have been introduced in my pre-teen and teen years to Erykah Badu, India.Arie and Jill Scott. I still start singing “Certainly” from the Baduizm: Live album at the drop of a hat, and India’s playing on my mp3 player every other day. While reading about the slave trade in Savannah during my trip there this past weekend, “Too much hypocrisy in this old Southern town for me. Way back in 1619 began this tragic story..." flowed into my head. If you don’t know “India’s Song,” check it out. Jill’s always in my rotation too, and I just saw her on tour with Maxwell. *Sigh* These truthful artists are still doing their thing. If you haven’t heard New Amerykah Pt. 2: Return of the Ankh, you need to get on it. And I am impatiently waiting for Jill's Light of the Sun to drop. India, I’ll give you a little more time on your next one since Testimony Vol. 2 dropped in early 2009, but try not to keep us waiting too long, eh?

Now, there are some younger artists out there who can blow. I can’t deny Beyoncé’s talent (she’s a notable songwriter, producer, and entertainer too). Keri Hilson has a nice voice, but her music leaves much to be desired. Jazmine Sullivan’s husky voice is alluring, as are Melanie Fiona’s powerful pipes. Chrisette Michele is a cool breeze in the R&B game, with a killer voice and a devotion to the greats: “I've been studying Miss Billie, Miss Ella, Miss Sarah Vaughn and Miss Natalie Cole.” Esperanza Spalding and Janelle Monáe are two young, very creative artists who are doing their thing too. Corinne Bailey Rae is excellent, and I love her new album, The Sea. I can appreciate the fact that most of these women are not playing into the commercial titillating aspect of the music biz. Instead, they can rely on their talent—how refreshing.

Maybe there are some I’m missing, but that’s probably because they don’t get enough attention! (If I hear Nicki Minaj’s pitiful Annie Lennox sample one more time, I might throw up a little bit in my mouth. This is why I don’t listen to the current hip-hop and R&B stations.) Meanwhile, I’ll stick to my old-school R&B stations, CDs and Pandora to get my music fix. If I can’t get it elsewhere, I’ll keep doing what I’m doing. Yeah, it’s that important. After all, if music doesn’t move you, what’s the point?

Resources for the Ladies Considering Going Natural

I've been having so much fun this past week looking for a new product/technique that will increase my hair's moisture. (Thanks for the new products, Heather! I'm especially looking forward to trying the Frederic Fekkai conditioner!) In the process of researching, I've come across a number of very helpful blogs (like Knapsgirl.com) and YouTube videos with great product reviews and tips. You might find some of these useful too!

One helpful source has been The SistahChick, who has her own blog and YouTube channel. Lots of women have already been inspired by her lively, positive personality. She's part of what some people are calling a "Natural Hair Movement." As you read and surf more and more, you'll see that there's a lot of passion out there--and lots of willingness to share information. It's great!

There's even a growing community dedicated to nurturing children's natural hair. The SistahChick has featured her own daughter, the Little Chick, on her blog and channel to demonstrate all kinds of styles and techniques on her daughter's head of thick, beautiful hair. Another great site is Our Natural Kids, whose mission is "to share ideas & resources while promoting healthy hair care and maintenance for children with kinky, curly, nappy or multi textured hair."

If you're thinking about going natural, there's so much to consider, but I think it's good to see the possibilities of what you can do with it once you make the transition. So many resources are out there, with the express purpose of helping a sister out. ;-) Good luck as you weigh your options, but know that there's lots of help.

So the first new product I'm trying, before I try the Frederic Fekkai shea butter conditioner, will be Kinky-Curly's Knot Today leave-in conditioner and detangler. There's been a lot of conversation about this Kiny-Curly product, sometimes in conjunction with KC's Curling Custard (which I may not try...it's more expensive than the Knot Today). We'll see how it goes!

Little Changes Can Go a Long Way

When I've written in a post or two about the possibility of broadening our views of "pretty," I've imagined an actress here and a model there with different textures of hair, not just long and straight. Such a one-dimensional view of beauty is problematic.

Well, I was pleasantly surprised today when I saw a Regions Bank ad featuring a sister with hair that looked similar to mine. I'm not saying I necessarily want to see hair like mine more frequently, but the broadening is what's important to me.

Granted, banks are a bit suspect these days, but what made me smile when I saw this ad is that it features an everyday woman in an everyday situation: trying to get an education and figuring out how to make it happen. This isn't a hair product ad or fashion ad; this model could be any young black woman in school.

Like other images here and there, it shows that there is a range of possibilities for beautiful hair. A simple ad like this could possibly contribute to broadening the "pretty" horizon. I can definitely appreciate that, and I imagine other women can too. :-)

The Handshake of Trust

I don’t quite remember how it goes, but it was a left-handed shake that involved a lot of finger work and even a little thumb war. After having matched wits with my hubby, a regular occurrence, he says, “OK, let’s do the Handshake of Trust.” I follow his lead through the complicated, made-up maneuver, all the while laughing my behind off. It was one of those silly moments that make our marriage fun.

I’m still a matrimonial novice—just celebrated four years!—but I do know that marriage takes work. Any married person will attest to this. It’s not always lovey-dovey fun and games, and bills, jobs, emergencies, children, and life make stuff get real—really real. How that realness works out, however, largely depends on who you marry, in my humble opinion.

I just happened to marry my best friend, and he still manages to surprise me with his ideas, creativity, and silliness. “You’re really weird” is one of my daily remarks to him. But he also gets on my doggone nerves sometimes—love you, babe! *MUAH*—and we both have to find ways to let off steam. Again, any married person can attest to this realness.

I think life’s realness also works out in a marriage depending on the “character” of the two people in it. For instance, my hubby and I are two creative, silly people, so our interactions (on a good day) are characterized by creativity and silliness. It’s why a Handshake of Trust can crop up in an otherwise ordinary conversation and why my hubby laughs at me Every. Single. Day. And I have friends whose relationships have completely different characteristics. The commonality is commitment, though.

As my girl Quisha and I were just discussing recently, so many people get married because they’re in love—I know I was head-over-heels when I got hitched. We’re not that old, still twenty-something, but we know that too many marriages have been done in by the myth that “love will keep us together.” After tossing around the idea, Quisha and I came to the conclusion that some of this disillusionment can be avoided with a reality check: a beautiful wedding has no bearing on the marriage, marriage is not easy, and love alone will not make it work. Commitment is the glue that keeps it together.

What does commitment look like? Well, I’d love to get my J. grandparents’ perspective on this. They just celebrated sixty-four years of marriage—a lifetime!—so I’m sure they can preach on this. (Note to self: ask Grammy and Granddad about this.) From my measly four years, I can say it looks like remaining a team in the midst of financial disagreements, illness, emotional strain, journeys to self-discovery and job uncertainty, along with date nights, dinner at home, impromptu dance sessions and silly little moments involving silly little handshakes.

I won’t even presume to know all the reasons some people’s marriages end. Sometimes it has to be done; sometimes it doesn’t. As a novice, I have more faith than experience: faith that commitment is the glue that will keep mine together. Matrimonial veterans, whatcha got for us babies?

With that, I’ll close with a song I’ve been playing a lot lately, Ella Fitzgerald’s rendition of “Wait Till You See Her,” because the hubby has inspired it in my mind these past few days:

Wait till you see him, see how he looks. Wait till you hear him laugh. Painters of paintings, writers of books never could tell the half. Wait till you feel the warmth of his glance, pensive and sweet and wise: all of it lovely, all of it thrilling. I’ll never be willing to free him. When you see him, you won’t believe your eyes. You won’t believe your eyes.

One Thing I Want My Daughter to Know: "Good and Bad Hair" Revisited

All right, I'm gonna talk about hair again, and then I'll leave it alone (until I get moved to talk about it again. That's right. I said it.).

I was watching a rerun of The Game on BET—don’t judge me—when an ad for Motions Silkening Shine Relaxer came on. I wasn’t paying much attention until I heard “Get pretty.” Then my ears perked up. The line continued, “…with shiny, make-them-stare hair.” Then it hit me hard: this is why little girls grow up thinking the hair they were born with needs to be fixed. Otherwise, it’s not “pretty.”

This ad reminded me of a recent conversation I had with my pastor, when he told me that we partly form our identities based on the models before us—that is, both fashion models and everyday examples. Little girls, for instance, grow up knowing what’s “pretty” without having to have it blatantly stated (although this ad is pretty blatant). We have Barbie dolls, TV, magazines and movies to tell us.

The thing is: the “popular” models, as opposed to the everyday ones, get more pull as kids grow up. We know this. And if we’re talking about models of “pretty” hair, the view is pretty one-dimensional. For black girls growing up today, their models are the likes of Beyoncé, Queen Latifah, and the model in this Motions ad: beautiful, influential women who relax their hair. I imagine the message for a little girl is that “shiny” hair like this model’s is the only way to “make them stare.” This type of hair is necessary to be considered beautiful.

I’m aware that these are arguably trite ideas--we all know that trying to be Barbie has screwed with quite a few minds--yet these ideas about "pretty" keep being recycled. In spite of all the conversations about multivalent versions of “pretty,” we’re still getting “pretty hair=straight and shiny” coming through the tube. To a little girl, who may have few, if any, models of naturally textured hair that is “pretty,” this ad provides the key to “pretty”! Shiny, blow-in-the-wind hair that correlates with all the other models out there.

I think we’d see a lot less negativity surrounding nappy hair if black females in their girlhood, where ideas about “pretty” firmly take root, can actually see more than one type of “pretty” hair. If they can see hair that looks like theirs as “pretty,” not just at home or in the neighborhood but on TV and in magazines, then maybe we can add a few more dimensions to the idea.

I’m not naïve, however. I know that part of kinky hair’s lack of visibility has to do with its paltry level of acceptability in the fashion, TV, and film industries. But we’ve seen kinky hair featured in the worlds of fashion and entertainment, as in this photo of Beyoncé. (Granted, I don't believe this is her hair, but the point is that the afro is getting some play!) World famous model Alek Wek is also an example of kinky hair in the fashion world. Kim Myles, of HGTV’s Myles of Style wears her hair in its natural texture. Jazz, blues, and folk icon Cassandra Wilson has been wearing locs for decades, and soul singer Leela James has a very prominent afro.

There are models of black women with naturally textured hair out there, but they’re nowhere near as prominent as models of straightened and relaxed hair. Where are the Carol’s Daughter, Miss Jessie’s, and Kinky-Curly TV ads? Maybe they’re on their way. They’re fairly new companies, after all.

With all this in mind, if I ever have a daughter, I’d want her to know that she’d be pretty no matter what she did to her hair, that there’s more than one type of “pretty” and that she wouldn’t have to change the texture of her hair in order to get it. But she could if she wanted to. It's one option and not the only one.

A Bone to Pick

Black men, a lot of people have a bone to pick with you. What did you do? Or maybe it’s what you didn’t do, according to some. I’ve noticed that black men’s roles as protectors and nurturers are being questioned lately, not that this is a new topic. The question came up recently in an earlier post on this blog. Chris Rock humorously alluded to the question in 2004’s Never Scared when he warned fathers that the test of their fatherhood would be whether they could keep their daughters out of “clear heels” (i.e., strippers’ shoes). Toni Morrison raises this question with the character of Cholly Breedlove in my favorite novel, The Bluest Eye (1971). The question is much older than that, though, going as far back as the days of American slavery, when countless black men were left defenseless as a white male-dominated world raped their women and sold their children.

Now, the question rises again—in a world that is fundamentally different from one in which men could only stand by while their women and children were violated. Check out this video depicting audition clips for a reality show featuring rapper Plies. (Shout-out to my bro-in-law for posting this on Facebook!) The women depicted here are clearly proud of their sexual “talents.” More power to ‘em and Lord love ‘em. But note not a spirit of simple competition but of divisiveness that permeates these women’s statements. They’re bragging that they’re better than every other woman in line because of what they can do in the bedroom and because of what they’re willing to let Plies to do them. While there’s some pride in being independent and being able to cook, for example, the emphasis is placed on sexual versatility and skill.

Interestingly, the person who posted this video to YouTube titled it “BLACK MEN RAISE YOUR DAUGHTERS SO THEY WON’T DO THIS!” Black men, fathers in particular, you’re being called out! And all this makes me wonder why it’s the father’s responsibility to keep their daughters from seeking this type of attention and from promoting this type of division. Is it not primarily women who are interviewing other women for this TV show? Granted, these women are working for a man, but they don’t have to. These women are choosing to do a job that exploits some arguably weak-minded women. Is this a complication that should be laid at their fathers’ feet too?

Perhaps, but who knows what kind of fatherly experiences we’re seeing the fruits of, from one woman to the next? There are women out there who were raised by hardworking men who taught their daughters to love themselves and others. Others may have had absent or horrible fathers. Still others may have had nothing but negative experiences with men, to the point that they don’t know how to deal with them or themselves in a healthy way. Then again, while some may have missed their biological fathers in their lives, maybe they had uncles or teachers or neighbors who filled the void. Whatever the case may be, 1) there’s got to be a level of personal responsibility involved here, and 2) women have to bear some responsibility too. That’s not to discount the long-term psychological and emotional effects of absent, deadbeat or otherwise subpar fathers. I realize that men do have an important role to play in helping to shape their daughters’ and sons’ futures, but they don’t play the only role.

Jill Scott tackles this issue from a slightly different angle in the August 2010 edition of her Essence column, “I’m Just Sayin.’”August’s installment, “Boys to Men,” argues that, while women can instill morals, values, and a treasure-trove of knowledge into their sons, there are certain aspects of manhood that boys can learn only from men. The most important point she makes, however, is that so many black boys lack instruction from a community of black men. A community of black men instructing their sons, she argues, is invaluable:

While there are men who take pride in raising and instructing their sons, there is very little communal education. Just imagine if our men taught our boys conflict resolution—how to settle a dispute so that everyone walks away alive. Maybe if our outstanding men shared that one skill with our boys, there would be fewer violent deaths in our neighborhoods. […] What if our great men taught our boys how to nurture women and children with love, respect and understanding? Maybe our artists would be more creative when depicting women in their music and videos. […]

And maybe our rappers would be more creative when depicting women in their reality shows too. Do you see why I love Jill? She’s making a very cogent argument about how a concerted effort of our strong, dedicated, responsible men can turn the tide of negatives in our communities, from violence to relationships. I think she’s right, but the concerted effort of our men and women is really the ticket, and that’s what I’m getting at--an idea clearly not lost on Jill, as she explains her role as a mother. I wonder how many of those women waiting in line for Plies’ show are mothers, and I have the same curiosity about the women behind the interviewing table.

Maybe a community of men can prevent boys from exploiting females on national TV, and maybe such a community can prevent those females from exploiting themselves. Perhaps, too, the combined instruction of men and women can curb the unhealthy images promoted by “television and hustlers in the streets,” as Jill puts it, and help our boys and girls grow up to be men and women who respect and love one another and themselves: not a selfish love but a love that appreciates one’s inherent value. That’s not the value being promoted by these women clamoring to be “Bust it Babies” or by the women and men seeking to put them on TV.

Death to "Good and Bad" Hair!

Let me start by saying that I’m not going to comment at all on Chris Rock’s film Good Hair. The world has about mutilated that dead horse, right? This isn’t about “Straight and Nappy” from Spike Lee’s classic School Daze, either (although it’s playing in my head right now, high kicks and all). Instead, let me tell you a story.

A woman of a certain age was once describing to me the hair textures of three biracial women she knew. One of them, she said, had hair the most like “black people’s hair,” more on the kinky side of things. Another had hair that was “like good black people’s hair—but better—like a Latina,” and the third had “good hair,” which I assumed meant naturally wavy or straight hair. I smiled and nodded, but I was struck—and slightly saddened—by the enduring idea that a black woman’s hair is bad or somehow lesser. The uses of good and better here imply that a black woman’s hair is naturally bad. And in my experience, it’s not just women of a certain age who use and believe in this idea.

There are women out there who believe the natural texture of their hair is bad for the simple fact that it’s kinky. That’s it. It’s not that it’s damaged or falling out; it’s just nappy hair! There’s a historical dimension to this sense of shame, partly rooted in very old racist ideas about beauty and partly linked with long-standing fashion trends. Both are hard to contend with, but this leads me to wonder: when my sisters look at their nappy roots in the mirror, what runs through their minds?

Back when I used to straighten my hair (never had chemicals), new growth meant, Dangit! I have to straighten my hair again?! After a while, I realized that I didn’t have to do anything, so I stopped straightening my hair. It was intermittent for a while—I might straighten it; I might not—but after a few years it became a firm decision. I noticed that I liked the things my hair did on its own. If my hair didn’t want to stay straightened and downright refused to do so, who was I to try to force it? A very liberating experience.

It’s been an interesting ride. Family and friends alike have ridiculed me, sometimes in the spirit of fun and sometimes in the spirit of flat-out dislike. Here’s one of my personal faves: “What happened to your hair?” I went from having “good” and “pretty” hair—hair that fell mid-back when straightened—to “wild” and “big” hair. (Compare the pics: 2004 with straightened hair and 2008 with hair doing its own thing.) Some people like it, and some don’t, but I’m glad that I got to the point where I don’t care what others think about my hair. It’s healthy and reasonably well taken care of. ;-)

Of course, I don’t expect all sisters to do what I did. Different strokes for different folks. Some people tell me, “Oh, well, you don’t need a perm.” Who does need one? Some women choose to straighten/perm their hair because it’s what they’ve always done. Some do it because they have comb-breaking hair–I broke several combs as a child!—and just don’t have the time and/or desire (in some cases, the ability) to deal with it. For some it’s just more convenient to perm it or wear wigs and weaves. To each her own, but I would encourage my sisters not to base these decisions on notions of “good and bad” hair. If women can be born with “bad” hair, hair that needs to be “fixed” from jump, then countless little girls are coming into the world with a completely messed up sense of beauty. They’re born lacking something because their hair coils up. That can’t be the case; I just don’t believe that’s true. But how many women do believe it’s true?

I love a t-shirt one of my dear friends owns. It reads, “Good hair is healthy hair.” If your hair doesn’t constantly break off or shed a thousand strands a day, then you have good hair, whether it’s nappy, wavy or straight, long, medium-length or short. Wash it, condition it, and trim those split ends. Whatever else you do, consider canning the idea of “good and bad” hair. It’s so passé. Look around: slowly but surely, the world is changing.