That 'N' Word

You often wonder if substituting 'er' with an 'a' makes a substantive difference to the meaning and history of a word; you wonder if its ubiquitous nature and mainstream appeal makes the word more acceptable. You find yourself baffled by the word's tendency to inspire schizophrenic-like reactions in people as we argue about who can and cannot say it (other minorities for example); we find ourselves torn and confused as we try and legitimize a seemingly obvious double standard. We nod our heads in agreement when we say "whitey can't say it" but yet find ourselves conflicted as we wonder if the African can say it because even though he looks like 'my N(a)", sometimes talks like "my N(a)", history tells us his reality and experience, although tough as well, was never truly that of a "N(er)".

I've never really been a fan of the 'N' word; to hear it makes me cringe and moreover, to be referred to as one, regardless of how endearing the acknowledgment, leaves me in state of intellectual constipation as I hold back the urge to delve into history, context and legacy. I hold back not because I'm passive but rather because I'm exhausted; exasperated by this ongoing debate that pits Hip Hop against the NAACP, Ebonics against Bill Cosby, Urban Trends against Spike Lee and so on; a never ending back and forth inspired by socio-political posturing, historical context, linguistic interpretation and cultural mischaracterizations.

I was born and raised in Zimbabwe but I remember my friends and I using the word "N(a)" because it was hip & American (Ironically enough we ourselves never 'reclaimed' derogatory words used against southern Africans as endearing terms). Intellectually, we knew what the 'N' word was but emotionally, we never appreciated its history and the essence of it, never took the time to respect the trials & tribulations of the African-American experience. A couple years down the line I'm older and hopefully wiser.

sincerely,
Kwapi

Copyright 2010
http://www.twitter.com/kwapiv