Carmen grew up in a pleasant, white suburb. She grew up far removed from black men. And I think this distance contributed to the loneliness of Carmen. Let me explain.
Carmen’s mom was a nice Jewish mother. I met Carmen’s mom and enjoyed her company. Yet, Carmen’s mom had no cultural context for the life of her stunningly beautiful black daughter. I feel a black mom, even a suburban Jack and Jill mother, would have been on red alert as her daughter grew up as a teenager. A black mom might have had the talk with Carmen. Carmen, you are going to be a very beautiful woman. And your beauty will create issues for you. There are some black men who are going to be mesmerized by your ambiguous features — your strawberry shoulder length blonde hair, your light skin color, your fine features, your mannerisms, the way you talk. It is nothing you have done. It is just the way of the world for some black men. Some black men will fall for you at first sight. And you’re going to be unnerved by their primal behavior. Some black men will never tell you the truth. Why? Because their hormones are racing and they want to get into your pants. Quality black men will not care about those things. A quality black man will be interested in who you are, your mind.
Carmen’s mom lacked the cultural capital, the cultural memory and experience, to have this birds and the bees conversation with Carmen before sending Carmen off to Harvard. The rest is history.
Remember how Louise in Gotterdammerung speculates that no one was there in white Vermont to teach Mary Twilight Scott how to be black? And so Mary presented as the whitest black person in Boston to Louise. The same idea applies to the first day Carmen set foot in Harvard Yard. No one taught Carmen why black men were not real in Carmen’s presence. Carmen never heard the truth from black men at Harvard. What happened? Well, Carmen went a little nuts. Within a decade, she devolved from no one wants me to I will have you if I want you.
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I am a color indifferent writer as you know readers. However, does the case study of Carmen create an exception for color consciousness? Carmen hailed a taxi cab in Manhattan in record time outside of the Harvard Club. Isn’t that pretty privilege at work? Carmen turned my head upon first sight in the Yard. Isn’t that the visceral sway of racial ambiguity? Why would a lame judge risk all to be with the ambiguous Carmen? Doesn’t Carmen because of her appearance live in a different reality from unambiguous black women? Did having a Jewish mom render Carmen vulnerable to desires of some black men? Mom didn’t know what faced Carmen at Harvard because mom was never a black desirable woman. Would a black mom have insulated Carmen from the desires of black men? Would a black mom have grounded Carmen in racial reality? Isn’t this the talk Carmen needed in high school, not a fictional talk about evil white coppers but the talk about maintaining one’s sanity in a sea of hormonal, young black men at Harvard?
These are interesting questions. Perhaps, more writers, intellectuals and scholars should write about the black male gaze at Ivy League institutions. Just a thought from me.
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You know, black young adults from the suburbs can sense one another. Black college students can sense others who grew up in secure boring neighborhoods, neighborhoods where cops were non-existent. There is a discernable black suburban culture and consciousness that links many together. We share the same Middle American expectations — study hard, aim for medical or law school, please mom and dad, know the slur of Acting White, being called an Oreo. Not Black Enough for Black People One comes of age removed from urban America. This mindset linked Carmen, Nelson, Shelby and me together. My wife will never understand the black suburban experience. Could it be that Carmen knew my essence and she knew, she knew, I was of the suburbs and not the Big City like my wife? I wonder if Carmen discerned a latent tension between a daughter of Brooklyn and a son of Chester and that Carmen knew my blackness was muted, like her own blackness was muted by a leafy suburban childhood? These are deep speculations early this Sunday morning.
If there are over 40 million black Americans, there are over 40 million stories, experiences and perspectives.
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Every man is different in love and seduction. For me, duty matters. One respects a girlfriend, even if she is hundreds of miles away at the University of Richmond. Doesn’t matter that Dad is the Man in Richmond. What matters is felt fidelity. Carmen knew that about me. I love knowing someone deeply. Deep conversation is my wormhole to soulful alignment. Carmen became alignment for me over the years. Carmen led me to my wife and, at the end, tempted me from my wife. Betrayal is a non-starter for me. I chose love and my family, not recklessness.
I grew up in the suburbs. So did Carmen but a shared suburban essence was not enough. More writers, intellectuals and scholars should write about the cultural divide between black people of the suburbs and black people of the Big City. And the pitfalls of being too beautiful in a world of black men at Harvard.
Loved everything that you wrote and your musings.
All good comments and excellent questions.
I am not a young person anymore, but I sure wish someone had given me the talk about men in general as a teenager and young person.
I was very naive about men and didn't realize that they would say almost anything to get you to believe they loved you to get what they wanted.
Luckily I was quite true to myself and my moral upbringing, which probably saved me many times.