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photo courtesy of http://www.pbs.org/wnet/jimcrow/voting_start.html |
This word carries so many connotations. It is a word rooted in hatred, and used for the degradation of a group of people who come from African descent. A word Southern Whites used to control a people whom they felt were worthy only to serve them and the demands of their needs. The word dismisses the value in being a human being, and reduces a person made by God's own hand, to the role of a service animal.
Today the term is coined in the black community to mean homeboy or friend. It is used as a term of endearment, or an accent to a conversation between members of the Black community. Its as if all the connotations have been forgotten as the members, mostly those who are considered our youth, push toward changing the meaning of the word.
Whether the word ends in an "a", or an "er," the meaning has never changed, and it is still hurtful when used by others outside of the Black race. I was reminded of this as I sat and watched a movie last night with my husband. The movie was called 'Dirty Grandpa,' and I watched it only on the recommendation of one of my co-workers. Toward the end of a very agonizing viewing, we watched as Robert DiNero sang a karaoke version of and Ice Cube song. This particular song had the "N" word in it, and the film took it so far as to allow him to use the word (more than once) in a format that was meant to be for the amusement of keeping in line with the song. I didn't laugh. As a matter of fact, I couldn't even set my eyes on the screen after the first time he said it. I remember thinking to myself, "Just because he's married to a Black woman, and has Black children does not make what he said okay." The whole movie was raunchy to say the least, but this particular part took the cake because it stood out as the most offensive.
The word is still used today to try and "keep Black people in their place." I can remember being called this word by a little White kid when I was twelve years old. Back then I handled things very differently than I do now. Even though he was only a child, when I was twelve I couldn't see that it was not him who truly called me and my friend the derogatory name, but rather the parents who taught him that this was who I was. My response to this kid was to chase him through the skating rink, along with my friend, and show him what happens to people who called us that name.
Saddly, my children, both of them, have experienced being called the same. Hatred is not dead, it is very much alive and well. It is a master schemer who wears many coats, and has dressed itself in a disguise so well blended, one can miss it if you're not alert. We are not born to hate, no hatred is taught, a learned characteristic that we can either accept within ourselves as apart of who we are, or dismiss as ignorance derived from the most evil source.
It burdens me to see the people of my community use this term so loosely. For me it is a brainwashing that so many of us are buying into. The same brainwashing that tells us we are not worthy, not as beautiful as, not as smart as, not as acceptable as... The list goes on and on, but I refuse to buy into the rubbish.
My hope is that this next generation will buy into their own freedom of thought. I hope that they will rewash their minds and grow in the knowledge of the fact that they are worthy, they are beautiful, they are smart, they are acceptable, they are perfect being Black in every way God's hands made them, and they are NOT a ni**er.