Posts Tagged ‘black history month’

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Post Patrick’s Day Puzzling

March 18, 2011

Another reason for my Oreo-ness is how people love to celebrate any ethnic holiday other than any ethnic holiday having anything to do with being black.

 

Hmm, are you really or are you just looking to get some without much effort?

 

 

As I indulged in my one whisky and ginger last night, I looked at all the not-Irish people wearing “Kiss me, I’m Irish” shirts. All those of Scandinavian, Mexican, Eastern European descent drinking away, spouting bursts of gaelic and loving the celebration. And I realized nothing like this ever happens on Martin Luther King, Jr. Day.

 

...or on Thurgood Marshall Thursdays.

 

 

Man, the Irish had it right. I mean, they were oppressed and do you see them demanding a whole month and bemoaning their past. At one point, the Irish were called the n-words of Europe. But do they march in the streets during the entire month of March, interrupt our regularly scheduled programming with awkward documentaries, find themselves insulted when restaurants serve specials on corned beef and cabbage, get bummed out when America reduces centuries of Irish history into a handful of stereotypes and excuse to make bad decisions or get mad when people put on green face? No. They embrace it.

 

 

And make emotionally complex, corkscrew like movies.

 

 

Maybe if the blacks would shrink Black History Month into one day full of liquor they might have a better sell.

And, no, by “liquor”, I don’t mean 40s. We could class it up a bit. Whisky gingers are good for all occasions.

 

Seriously, this thing doesn't offend people? It's like the pickaninny of Western Europe.

 

 

 

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*uck Finn – 4 Reasons Why The N Word Should Stay In

January 4, 2011

They're not okay with the n-word, but are okay with kids running away, stealing stuff and smoking. Got it!

You remember Huck Finn, right? The book about a boy and his slave friend who run away and learn about each other. Oh yeah, and they say the n-word a bunch. You know, because it was set in the American South, pre-Civil War and that’s kinda what people did.

But a new edition of the book is coming out and the publishers of the book will replace the ethnic slur with the word “slave.”  You know, to make the book less offensive. Because owning slaves is totally okay as long as you call them nice names…or something like that. It’s hard to be clear on exactly what the publisher’s goal is, but they say it’s not about PC-tastic censorship.

The effort is spearheaded by Twain expert Alan Gribben, who says his PC-ified version is not an attempt to neuter the classic but rather to update it. “Race matters in these books,” Gribben told [Publisher's Weekly]. “It’s a matter of how you express that in the 21st century.”

 

Now, I get it, the word makes some people uncomfy**.

Not her, though.

But that doesn’t mean we should just strike it from the record completely.

Here are four reasons I think Huck Finn should stay just the way it is.

1. More Oreos! A selfish reason for sure, but nothing made me want to escape my skin quite like sitting in a classroom with my peers reading these books aloud. Sure, I hated the stares I got when someone mentioned Twain, or anything to do with Civil Rights, Martin Luther King or firehoses, but it put me on a path toward just the right amount of self loathing to take up some hobbies more interesting than gospel singing or dominoes.

2. Equal Opportunity Offense. There’s something in pretty much every book that’s going to offend most anybody. Should we take out references to sex or the church in The Scarlett Letter lest we offend people who pray or put out (or, like myself…both. :)? Should we take out half the words in anything written by Dickens because it’s just so g*dammed long and that is offensive in and of itself? Should we stop the production of Tyler Perry movies because they’re just offensive to everyone?  Nah. A little thicker skin is good for everyone.

3. Keep the word somewhat safe. If we remove the n-word from classic works of literature, the only people dealing with it are plucky talk show hosts like Dr. Laura and the hip hop and rap industry. I don’t know about you, but I totally trust one of the greatest American writers of all time over the the guy who wrote the song “Bitches Aint Shit.”

4. And seriously…yes, the n-word is pretty damn offensive. But if we lose sight of how offensive it is and the damage that it caused and causes, then we run the risk of perpetuating those offenses and creating them anew.

5. Too Much Change! If we start changing the words in Huck Finn, then it’s only a matter of time before someone changes the libretto to Big River, the Broadway musical written about that story. And I already have the current version commited to memory. Not ready to re-learn all that music! Seriously, listen to these harmonies. That’s a lot of work!

What do you think? Let us know!

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Morgan Freeman – Oreo? Subversive? Both?

May 16, 2010

Freeman says he doesn’t want to have a Black History Month, talk about racism or be called a black man. But he does have a near sassy head shake in there. Do we have a new Oreo king?

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Compton Cookout – Classic!

February 18, 2010

When I saw this facebook invitation to a “Compton Cookout” hosted by frat brothers in San Diego, I was upset and heartbroken.

“February marks a very important month in American society. No, I’m not referring to Valentines day or Presidents day. I’m talking about Black History month. As a time to celebrate and in hopes of showing respect, the Regents community cordially invites you to its very first Compton Cookout.

For guys: I expect all males to be rockin Jersey’s, stuntin’ up in ya White T (XXXL smallest size acceptable), anything FUBU, Ecko, Rockawear, High / Low top Jordans or Dunks, Chains, Jorts, stunner shades, 59 50 hats, Tats, etc.

For girls: For those of you who are unfamiliar with ghetto chicks – Ghetto chicks usually have gold teeth, start fights and drama, and wear cheap clothes – they consider Baby Phat to be high class and expensive couture. They also have short, nappy hair, and usually wear cheap weave, usually in bad colors, such as purple or bright red. They look and act similar to Shenaynay, and speak very loudly, while rolling their neck, and waving their finger in your face. Ghetto chicks have a very limited vocabulary, and attempt to make up for it, by forming new words, such as “constipulated,” or simply cursing persistently, or using other types of vulgarities, and making noises, such as “hmmg!,” or smacking their lips, and making other angry noises, grunts, and faces. The objective is for all you lovely ladies to look, act, and essentially take on these “respectable” qualities throughout the day.

Several of the regents condos will be teaming up to house this monstrosity, so travel house to house and experience the various elements of life in the ghetto.

We will be serving 40’s, Kegs of Natty, dat Purple Drank – which consists of sugar, water, and the color purple , chicken, coolade, and of course Watermelon. So come one and come all, make ya self before we break ya self, keep strapped, get yo shine on, and join us for a day party to be remembered – or not.”

Why wasn’t I on the invite list??

Sure, it’s dicey for Oreos to spend time with other people of color, but spending time with people pretending to be of color is just as important as making sure you’ve staked out your place at the regatta. Because here, we are reminded of just how unpleasant we would be if we were RBP.

Thanks, brothers, for the reminder. See you at next year’s Pimps and Hos ball, the Gangta Grill and the Cotton Bowl.

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Diary of a Mad White Black Woman – Image

February 5, 2010

Dear Diary,

The kind of invitation I’d been waiting for finally came. Embossed envelope withe the kind of wax seal I haven’t seen since my last Renaissance Festival. I was expecting to be asked to any number of red carpet events where I could rub sunburned elbows with the kind of people it does me good to be seen with.

Then I opened the envelope.

The NAACP Image Awards?? 

Such a tease you are, life, such a tease. 

They are honoring The Blind Side, though. So, maybe they’re more Oreo-tastic than I thought.

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Oreo Origins: The Oreo Experience’s First Black History Month, Part I

February 2, 2010

 

Thanks to http://www.betiku.com for making self repression so graphic-tastic

 

That special time of year has come. That time when the nation stands up and reminds us all why being an Oreo is so very important: Black History Month.

I remember my first Black History Month. It wasn’t until about fourth grade that this became a mainstay of my schooling. Prior to that year, I lived, relatively unscathed and actually considered that I might just be an RBP. 

But then, my classmates and my history books showed me how dreadful that was and I switched camps.

First, there was Vincent. 

I attended a magnet school that focused on academics. Each student in that school had to be tested into the program and was regularly tested throughout to make sure that they were in the right place.

I got into the program after skipping a grade and making a perfect score on the entrance exam. 

I arrived at my new campus, the only African American student in my grade. Out of about 120 kids, I was the only one of me. 

Golly did I feel special.

Until Vincent arrived. 

I spent two years in my coveted position. Doing fun, enriched things like designing robots, singing cowboy folks songs and joining the school choir where we sang Dixie as one of our showcase songs. 

I wish I was in the land of cotton
Old times there are not forgotten..
Look away, look away, look away
Dixieland

 

By fourth grade, I had developed a rather healthy crush on redheaded, freckled Spencer. He was my buddy and I was just mad about him. I spent the better part of fourth grade trying to win his affection and just when I thought I had him, one of my friends ran up to me on the blacktop at recess and said:

“OW! Do you like Vincent??”

Who?

“Vincent?? Do you like him? Are you going to go around with him?”

A group joined my friend and suddenly three or four friends were shouting with equal voracity that yes, I should indeed go around (our term for dating at the time) with Vincent.

I had no idea who Vincent was. The only boy I paid any attention to was Spencer. And I was hurt and surprised that they clearly had not noticed my very obvious attempts to curry his favor.

Then, I saw Vincent.

He was…of color. 

The only other one of me in my class and I finally understood.

Sure we were young, but they got to crush on whoever they wanted while relegating me to this new kid. I knew I had not made it clear who I was. Maybe it was that one Boys II Men tape I sometimes listened to.

The good news was that I could continue to crush unnoticed. And that I knew what I had to do…set myself apart from RBP so that I the right boys would be pushed upon me. Sure, I had simple goals at the time, but I was too young to need a job or investment plan. All I had was schoolyard crushes.

And hey, we are supposed to die a little bit for love, right?  

The end of the story is that Vincent and I never became friends, Spencer and I were close for a bit, then drifted apart. But one thing lasted: my commitment to the lifestyle and my triumphant march toward Oreodom.

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