On Race, Gender and Baracking the Vote...

So right now we're in the midst of a history altering campaign season. The course of our world, our country, our stories are about to forever be changed. And really, I feel really ... conflicted. On the one hand, I am thrilled that in this election alone, a Black man, a white woman and a Latino man have all been campaigning vehemently for the Democratic nomination. Wow... never in my lifetime did I think I would see this. Then on the other hand, the Black woman hand, I feel like I'm being split in two (figuratively, not literally). You see, I am simultaneously Female and Black. Both of those along with many other identities, shape who I am. I can be no more Black than I can be a woman than I can be straight than I can be a mother than I can feminist than I can a writer and so on and so on. So when I look at this election, this decision, I can't help but feel a conflict of identity, so to speak.

I know, I know, I shouldn't be looking at this election on such a basic level. I should be analyzing the facts. What do they stand for? What are they promising to do? What are there positions on the issues that effect my everyday life? And I have looked into those things. I've read up on their stances, I've taken countless quizzes that are supposed to show me with whom I most closely align, and I've watched the debates and whatnot. But really, the implications of this election are far greater than that. For the first time ever, someone who looks somewhat like me is going to be in the White House and not as a wife or a worker either (sorry Republicans, I'm starting to think you don't stand a chance of winning this election ... you have ol' G. W. to thank for that). I can't possibly just focus on the issues, not when the contesters arouse such a response to my identity.

So let's take a look at those hands again. On the one hand, the Black one, I'm like all for a Black president. For the longest time, that term seemed like such an oxymoron, Black president. How could a country shaped on the backs of Black slaves and molded with the hands of racism ever have a Black person as it's leader? How was that possible when I still have issues identifying as American? I mean, obviously I live here, but when I think of an American, I think of a good ol' boy. I think of a white man who's neck may or may not be red, who flies flags with white stars and red and white stripes, who may or may not be wearing overalls with no shirt, who enjoys football and baseball and drinks Budweiser and listens to country music and cries when the Star Spangled Banner is sung, who may or may not like me as Black person, but who may be curious about me as a Black woman. I guess the idea of a Black person running this country where only decades ago our bodies were regularly seen swaying beneath poplar trees is like the ultimate victory.

And then there's the other hand, the female one, the one that is often supposed to be ignored, fading to the back behind the Black one. This hand, this hand is all about having a woman running this damn country because a woman can d othings a helluva lot better than a man can. This hand sees (again, figuratively seeing as I have no eyes on my hands) how women have been running things since the begininning of time. And how this country was founded on oppression and the original slavery - marriage - which is an institution that still exists, though not in the horrors of its earlier form, but to the benefit of men nonetheless. This hand is all about seeing a woman take control of this country, this patriarchy. This hand thinks that my needs as a woman, as a mother, as a lesbian, as a feminist, will be best served by a woman.

Damn these hands! You see, when I look at these hands of mine, they're both brown and they both are female. These hands of mine know no separation of the two. That's why this decision of mine (and the rest of the democratic country, but this here blog is about mine) is so hard. Because really, neither of those candidates represents me. And if they did, they wouldn't be frontrunners. My bestfriend and I joked about me running for president one day. She laughed and said, "that's too much other! You would never get elected!" And she was right. What would a candidate who completely represented me look like? Hmm, a young poor nappy headed radical Black feminist lesbian single mother. Do you see her running this country? Ever? Nah.

So really, this whole election is forcing me to consider my identity. Who the fuck am I? Am I more of a woman or am I more of a Black? Note: I really hate using Black as a noun, but for literary purposes, it works best this way. I mean, which defines me most: my Blackness or my Woman-ness? Such is the plight of a Black woman. That whole double jeopardy thing. The truth is, neither one is more important. I am both. bell hooks talks about identity in this book of hers I have yet to finish, called Talking Back: Thinking Feminist, Thinking Black. In this book, she describes how languages influences the ways in which we identify. How the concept of adjectives and nouns places importance on one aspect of our identity over another. Like, am I a Black woman or a female Black? What does it mean to give one aspect of my identity subject placement over another?

But I digress...

So until recently, I have been pretty much undecided, but leaning towards Hilary Clinton. Again, it's because I think a woman can do a better job than a man. It's also because I want to do what is not expected of me as a Black person. And it's because of the rampant sexism surrounding the media coverage and people's views of her. But then came Super Tuesday. As I was watching the results come rolling in, I kept feeling a twinge of excitement every time Obama won a state. And when I saw him address his audience in Chicago, I felt a shot of excitement. I love the grassroots feel and youthfil energy surrounding his campaign. I love how he is bringing young folks out to the polls. I love it! I also think his wife is beautiful... but that's neither here nor there.

But with all this "love" comes a feeling of betrayal. I'm ready to Barack the Vote, but what does that say about me as a woman? Media coverage of Hilary Clinton has been crazy, crazy sexist. She's not Clinton, she's Hilary. Some of the things I dislike about her - her seriousness, her lack of emotion, her boringness, her cut-throatness - can be attibuted to the fact that she is a woman and she has to be this way. She can't afford to be labelled as soft or feminine or emotional or fair or just or all of those things that can be associated with the feminine, that stuff that this society doesn't value. By judging her because of those things, am I falling victim to sexist representation?

Most recently, I took yet another quiz to help me come to a conclusion. The results? Clinton 21 and Obama 20. Not much help. They're stances are pretty similar on the things that mean the most to me. So... what's a Black girl to do? If I knew, I wouldn't be writing this blog...