Khabr Aswad- Black News
Current mood: chipper
Category: Writing and Poetry
I carry with me the khabr Aswad
That dark secret of a dusky Venus
With kinky tendencies
I am a raven bringing omens
An ink blot stain revealing dark visions.
I am the one who is tangled and
Treading murky waters
That dark cloud following you
Reminding you of the blackness from which you came.
(c) Khabr Aswad yadda yadda and all that legal stuff 2006
I went to a beautiful wedding this weekend. A classmate of mine married her boyfriend of six years. They are an amazing couple, perfect fit. It was a dream wedding, the kind you see in movies. Everything was well done, with the kind of class and attention to minute details that only the affluent could buy. My friend has told me about some of the snide comments other grad students made about her background. Sure, her father is a wealthy lawyer who’s worked some high profile cases. And sure her new husband comes from a wealthy shipping family. But they are not the Onassis family, dammit!. A lot of graduate students take on this air of poverty, as if they become the long suffering proletariat. Though this was not a proletariat wedding, I have an admiration for my friend’s realness. She also has a sharp mind and a great sense of humor. She’s also not full of the pretensions that mark a lot of academics. Though they envy the world of my friend’s parents and in-laws, almost all of them come from privileged backgrounds. Their parents are lawyers, doctors, professors, and business men. They all exist in a world that seems to operate parrallel my own. When you see the mating habit and partnering customs of your peers, nothing hits home more than the trials and tribulations of being a single (and trying hard not to be bitter) black woman.
As I was cleaning up my hard drive, I came across some scraps of articles I pasted into a word document:
“African-American men are much more likely than white or Hispanic men to engage in polygamous relationships, the scholars found. About 21 percent of the African-American men had at least two partners at the time of the survey, compared with 6 percent of men overall in Cook County.”
“Furthermore, the researchers found that polygamy is more common among better educated black men, who presumably have more income. As a result, the number of men available for stable marriages in the African-American community is reduced, leading to the large differences in marriage rates between African-Americans and whites, the researchers pointed out. About 57 percent of black men have been married, compared with about 72 percent of white men, according to census figures.
from article: “Urban areas organized in well developed partnering markets,” University of Chicago research shows
http://www-news.uchicago.edu/releases/04/040109.sex-market.shtml
“African Americans marry at a significantly lower rate than other racial groups in the United States. The federal Centers for Disease Control and Prevention reports that by the age of 30, 81 percent of white women and 77 percent of Hispanics and Asians will marry, but only 52 percent of black women will do so.”
from: “Marriage rate low in black community”
http://www.suntimes.com/special_sections/marriage/day2/cst-nws-black09.html
The numbers of “Blacks who marry whites is still small, just 6 pecent of b lack men and 2 percent of b lack women. “source unknown
This data are like bombs leaving lots of food for thought. There was a movie that came out in January that sent a message to black women which basically told us that our problem is that we aren’t open to dating outside our race. I know a number of black women who don’t, but then again I know a number of black women that have never had a man who isn’t black approach them romantically. Maybe they missed the signals. I also know from experience that black women dating outside their race is looked upon disapprovingly (even at times by black men who themselves are in interracial relationships).
Last year, there was a discussion about serial polygamy organized by the Black Graduate students. I bounced out of that meeting because for some polygamy was a theoretical issue, but I had dealt with that on a real level. I don’t know that stats for how many black Muslim do it, but it is a rather common phenomena, much like our high divorce rates. (These viewpoints are mainly on sunni Muslims, as I don’t know much about the marriage and divorce rates in the Nation of Islam) A number of my second generation immigrant Muslim friends commented on the instability of marriages in the African American Muslim community. They also have noted the tendency for out in the open polygamous relationships among African American Muslim men. Brothers are real quick to be like, “I divorce thee, I divorce thee, I divorce thee!! Three strikes you’re OOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUTTTTTT!!” My friend’s husband divorced her three times, and then she had to get married to someone else and then they got back together. He married someone else on the side, then divorced her, but then somehow after their third child they got back together again and are living abroad. Last thing I heard was that they were happy.
Well black women, maybe you found a group who has worse stats than you. Black Muslim women, yeah. We’re like 2 percent the population. Muslims do heavy recruiting in the prisons, meaning that brothas who are unable to secure stable jobs are over represented. And if you’re married to one who is doing well for himself and is attractive, chances are that there will be sistas out there willing to fill in three of the empty slots (he is allowed four under Shariah after all). Also, Muslims do not recognize a marriage of a Muslim woman to a non-Muslim man. But a Muslim man can marry a Christian or Jewish woman. Not fair? Who said life is fair, the issue is how you navigate the constraints, disparities, and inequalities. Sigh, I guess I shouldn’t complain about the statistics. I am one of the lucky 52 percent thirty year olds. I got married. Sure, I am divorced but the cup is half full, right?
(Disclaimer: This is not to say that all African American Muslim men are naturally inclined towards polygamy. There are some really great families out there and really great husbands. The only problem is that suitable mates for an educated sista are in low supply. )
A few days ago, my friend told me he got an email from our mutual friend. Hes been abroad for some years, wandering around in some ancient land. I asked how he was doing and the reply was that he was fine. My friend said “That brotha is real special.” I agreed, “Yes he is.” This is not the only time I heard this. Several people have made the same remark upon meeting him. I remember my bosss first impression, when she said that he looked at you in the eyes and you could feel his warmth. And his mind operated on this unique level, he didnt try to conform to how society defined the way black men should act or think. Hed say things like, “Asalaam alaikum dude” in a cool Cali skater boy accent. When we were young, he wanted to be a park ranger. I always thought that was cool. And this brother was really beautiful inside and out. I think a lot of people were really caught up in his physical beauty, as opposed to truly appreciating his unique soul. No, this society doesnt offer a space for some special people. It displaces them, decenters them, makes unreasonable demands upon them, and marginalizes them.
Three years ago I began looking for my boy, I had heard he still lived in Oakland. I just wanted to know if he was doing okay and learn more about what he had experienced in the past ten years since we talked at length. I found out this past December that he was abroad again. I had only seen him once in that decade, after both our lives had changed so much.
It was awkward asking around for him because in my circles it wasn’t really proper. I remember asking a sister and she was like, “Why are you trying to get with him?” I answered “No, I just want to know how he’s doing and to tell him he’s been in my thoughts and prayers.” I also wanted to tell him about my trip to the Tafilelt in Morocco. The Tafilelt is in southern Morocco and was the ancient trading outpost between the ancient kingdom of Ghana and North Africa. You can see a thousand years of blending between North Africans and sub-Saharan Africa in the faces of the people that lived there. They often considered people from other regions of Morocco as foreigners. To me, this region of Morocco was the most beautiful and heart breaking. When we first arrived to one of the towns, I couldnt hold it in and I said “Look at all the brown people, they are beautiful!” Sheepishly, I realized that I was in a van full of white women and I said, Awesome!! (Later on, I got some heat for saying that. Why people had a problem? They could kiss my bootey cause they always commented on their white-ness)
The first night we arrived the girls and I headed to the market. I was absolutely shocked because I saw a spitting image of my long lost friend. I knew he travelled but what was the liklihood? But something in the young man’s stare told me that it wasn’t my friend. That warmth was missing.
On the second night in the Tafilelt, I was really sick had to be rushed off to the pharmacy/doctor to get medicine for my fever. I experienced so much frustration and isolation there. My heart ached as I saw the crippling poverty of this once prosperous region. All these brown children, so beautiful, would follow us with bright eyes and smiles. The women constantly begged us for money. We saw the beginning of the locust swarms devastate these poor date farms. The young men tried desperately to chase the locusts out of the trees by burning acrid smoke. Those locusts swarms started there and would later sweep across Africa causing the 04-05 famine.
The above image is the Tafilelt Oasis Valley
When I got back from Morocco, I began asking different people if they had seen him or heard from him. On day online I ran into one of his friends. I tried to reach out and sent a message. I briefly told my Morocco story and wrote, “Send the brotha my salaams.”
I have always wanted to talk to people who, like me, had gone some place in search of knowledge and understanding. I remember jealously watching the brothas go away years ago in search of sacred knowledge. And I felt constrained. But after returning from Morocco, I wanted to reach out to that group. Maybe they could build with me and help me get my bearings.
This brings me back to my friend. We became friends when we were children on the cusp of adulthood when we were close. There was a tight little group of Muslim converts in the South Bay and we existed in this interconnected but dispersed network. Some of us knew each other from DeAnza, or as friends two well known brothers. When I was young, I had a lot of male friends. I think I spent an equal time building with my male friends as I did my female friends. A lot of my more conservative friends would admonish me for mixing with men and having too many male friends. Sometimes the intentions were clear and my relationships remained platonic. Other times it was fraught with tension. But all in all, I miss those largely innocent times. Im glad to hear that the brotha is doing alright. I asked my friend to send him my salaams. I am sure it will get to him this time.
A food activist came to campus today. Bryant Terry had a wonderful book called “Grub” which was full of information, recipes, and historical background on healthy sustainable living. I think he was surprised to find a receptive audience. I was even surprised how many books he sold. It is not just that we are health nuts. But a lot of us know something is wrong in the world if 10 companies make 50% of the food we eat. That is like less than 200 people deciding what we process, what we digest, and the amount of energy we have. Terry was inspired by the Black Panther’s food breakfast programs for children. He does a wonderful service by bringing his message to children in the inner city.
Well, today thousands of innercity children are fed poor diets. I did some work as an intern in East Oakland where I did inventory of the food available to low income neighborhoods. Oakland issued a bunch of licenses to liquor store owners, but does little to promote businesses that truly serve the community and provide opportunities to train and develop the youth. It is surprising how few black businesses are in predominantly black neighborhoods. The institutions that be in the city of Oakland support the licenses of the Yemeni-American Cartel, ahem, I mean Grocers. But, little support has been given to providing these communities with actual grocery stores and not just full of junk food and alcohol.
I went to one of the protests against Muslim owned liquor stores, but a friend of mine had misgivings. It wasn’t really feeling her misgivings or lack of condemnation of the Arab/Muslim liquor store owners. It wasn’t a conversation I could get too much into without getting heated. I suspect a lot of immigrant Muslims had similar misgivings. They did not come out in force and represent. I think it is ironic how they will condemn this and that, but Muslims are not willing to condemn an exploitative economic institution. Especially one that preys upon the downtrodden by capitalizing on their weaknesses and nafs. This economic exchange is one that also perpetuates bad relations between Arabs and African Americans. The liquor store interaction is often the only interaction Arabs have with African Americans. And in fact, many immigrant Muslims have never seen the other side of African American life, you know, the other 75 % that is not under the poverty line. Likewise, many African Americans only experience of Arabs is the paranoid and often rude Arab liquor store owner. Ive been talked to crazy like I was some crack head ho.
So, while I’m feeling the food activism and sustainable living, the main problem is access to resources. I find it appalling how easy it is to get liquor and how hard it is for to get a fresh meal, let alone a salad. I see this as a political problem. And it is a public health problem. The African American community is plagued with health problems associated with poor diets, obesity, diabetes, hypertension, and heat disease. And they dont have access to good health care. I know people who want to open grocery stores in the inner city, but their endeavors receive little support. In Palo Alto, I can get in my car and drive to Trader Joe’s or Whole Foods. Heck, I can even get to Safeway and get some fresh vegetables. But across the tracks in East Palo Alto, I heard there still isn’t a single grocery store. So, like EPA, in Oakland, there are poor families, the elderly, single mothers, and children who don’t have the same access as I have. But what is in front of them is a quick escape from their day-to-day toil of an inescapable cycle of poverty.
Heres another bit of history:
Hafsah and Abu Jaffar were celebrated poets in medieval Muslim Spain. Unfortunately, Abu Jaffar’s family worked for the previous Almoravid dynasty which was ousted by the Almohad dynasty in the 11th century. A dangerous love triangle developed when the Caliph’s son who came into town as governor of Granada, Hafsah and Abu Jaffar. Eventually the governor executed his rival Abu Jaffar and Hafsah went into mourning. She gave up poetry and retired in North Africa as a teacher to the Almohad princesses.
Here is a poem she wrote:
O you who used to be the most sensitive of men
Before fate lifted you up to let you fall
In love with a black woman
Who is altogether like the night, which hides beauty
And with darkness obscures the radiance of a face,
Nor in that night can any blond thing be seen,
Tell me, you being so well acquainted
With the connoisseurs of extrinsic beauty,
By God, would anyone ever fall in love with a garden
Where no roses are, nor blossoms of the orange tree?
Hafsah Rukaniya 12th century
So, it appears Hafsah was making fun of Abu Jaffar for being in love with a black woman. Fairness is a standard of beauty in Middle Eastern culture. And in Hafsahs conception of the world as an Arab elite, a dusky, bronze, golden, red, chocolate, or black woman could not compete with a blonde. On the flip side Abu Jaffar told Hafsah, “Do not love that black man. I engage to buy ten better than he in the black slave-market.” The 17th century historian, Makkari wrote that the man competing for Hafsahs attention (the Caliph’s son) “was so dark of complexion as almost to resemble a Negro.”
This little exchange has gone unnoticed by most historians. I find it interesting. It indicates that because the Caliphs son was a powerful man, his skin color or ethnic identity as a non-Arab and [likely multi-racial] Berber didnt matter so much for Hafsah. However she believed her whiteness made her superior to her black rival. Abu Jaffars obvious affection for this black woman, did not stop him from comparing his darker complexioned rival to a slave. By looking at this story this way, we can explore all sorts of issues on identity, power, and sexual politics.
Although in Islam, we have Quranic verses, prophetic traditions, and even a final sermon of Muhammad where he stated an Arab was not better than a black, nor a black better than an Arab. Afro-Arabs experience discrimination in the Middle East and American Muslim communities have a long way to go to integrate immigrant and the predominantly African American indigenous communities. I remember having a conversation with some Muslims sisters about race. She had noted that the preference towards lighter skin was universal. She evidenced Mauritania as an example. I doubt that she studied the society to understand the complex history of a slave raiding frontier, the role of caste in Mauritanian society, and the development of Bidan (White) and Sudan (Black) identities. Often people blame colonialism, but they havent read too much about the ways medieval Arabs picked up racialist and racist conceptions about Africans from the Greeks and Biblical scholars. They also had their own traditions from pre-Islamic days. But Muhammad’s message about breaking down tribalism and chauvinistic attitudes. More sophisticated analysis said that we resided in really hot places that fried our brains and curled up our hair. And we liked to dance a lot. This is what Ibn Khaldun said in the 14th century. Medieval Arabs thought we were shuffling and jiving even back then.
Still to this day, nobody has written about the fate of African slaves in Andalusia. Heres a reply to Hafsah:
Daylight exposes the beauty of extrinsic things.
Darkness does not conceal this woman’s loveliness
Whose beauty is intrinsic in her devotion
And countenance
As the evening approaches the sky celebrates
Throwing on its best attire
Changing dresses from rosy warm shades
To ocean blues of twilight
At night the Moon glows radiant
The sky draped in velvet robes adorned
With diamonds and pearls.
What are gardens? When you have the heavens?
Aziza 21st century
This entry was inspired by some questions a Muslim brother asked me about conversion, Christianity, race, and my views of a white God:
As a Christian, I had a hard time absorbing that whole race division issue. I didn’t understand how could KKK be good Christians and hate us so much. How could someone be a good Christian and fight the Civil Rights movement? Interesting thing in history is that the Catholic Church condones interracial marriage. And had it not been for the virulent opposition of the Irish American community, the Catholic Church would have played a greater part in the Civil Rights movement.
Muslims do have divisions, but we have important rituals and texts that combat racial, ethnic, and cultural divisions. This is why the Hajj scene in the Malcolm X movie was so powerful. Through this universal ritual all Muslims are brought together and class divisions are eradicated. Even in prayer, you can go to any mosque and perform prayer without understanding the language of the local community members.
Another thing that drew me to Islam was the Prophet’s (SAW) last sermon. He addressed racial equality, relationships between men and women, all sort of important issues that affect us today. This is during the 7th century, predating any racial equality movement by 1400 years. The closest we get to that in the Bible is the story about the Good Samaritan, but that is a sectarian difference not really ethnic or racial.
When I was a little little girl. My sister and I used to try out different churches. At one church, the people told us that when after we die and go to heaven God would burn off all skin and we’d be white like everyone else. Of course this was horrifying, up till then I didn’t know that anything was wrong with our brown skin. I didn’t really even know the difference between black and white. I thought my mom was white because she was lighter than everyone else around us.
Years later, I remember going to a Mormon church with my mom. They showed us pictures of Jesus and God visiting, I think, Joseph Brown. Jesus was totally Aryan (with a beard though)and God was just an older version with white hair and a white beard. That picture just creeped me out. They told us that there was a war between God and Satan and that there were angels who stayed with god and some angels sided with Satan. Then there were the fence-sitting angels who could not choose. According to the story, God cursed these angels and they became black people. So this explained slavery and the condition of Africans. Of course, I was totally horrified to hear such a thing.
Then, we get to more mainstream depictions. The pictures always bothered me, worshipping a white God. I read lots of illustrated bibles. And I never saw any black people, unless we were talking about Noah cursing Ham.
As an African American, the story of the Jews and four hundred years of slavery in Egypt had a special resonance. I wrestled with this notion of a chosen people and the pictures of a European Jesus (who was God). Maybe this is all reflected in the appearance of Black Jesus paintings. Funny thing is, my dad had long straight hair when I was a kid. He kind of looked like the picture of Black Jesus. Sometimes women would see him on the street, sometimes as jokes, sometimes real (according to my mother’s account) calling out “Jesus!” I am trying to find that picture, because that would be pretty cool.
In early church iconography Jesus did look Middle Eastern, especially in Greek and Russian orthodox churches. During the Renaissance, the Italians decided to paint scenes using local models, so thus the pictures of Mary, Jesus and the Saints looked like Northern Italians. This allowed for people to relate to them. If you look at nativity scenes, they look like Italian villages because many of the artists did not know what Bethlehem looked like.
There is a controversial movie set in modern where Jesus is an African. Many people are in an uproar. Not to offend Christians, but the image of a white God has been used to dominate non-Europeans and justify white supremacy. This has been an unfortunate consequence that has developed out of Europeans doing the same thing that the African producers are doing–making an image of the Messiah in a way that is culturally accessible to the local population. I think it is is worthwhile, but if we make it universal then it becomes oppressive. So, if we want to make a Native American nativity scene, East Asian, South Asian, Aboriginal, African, even Mixed Race nativity would be totally awesome. Why not? Palestine is at the cross roads of three different continents.
Margari Aziza 