Nigger is Offensive

My 10th Edition of Merriam-Webster's Dictionary published in 2000 still describes the detestable "N" word firstly, as a Black person, adding usually offensive prior to this label. It also directs me to see a paragraph below for more information. The second definition follows with "a member of any dark-skinned race." Hmm. It also begins with the precursor words of usually offensive curved and leaning to the right. Like ink stains blotched on a colorful masterpiece, the last definiton smudges out another meaning, "a member of a socially disadvantaged class of persons." Ron Dellums' end quote gives direction and context, "it's time for somebody to lead all of America's niggers...all the people who feel left out of the political process." Hmm.

As often as I use my 10th Edition of Merriam-Webster's Dictionary published in 2000 to ponder definitions, and to consider the impact or consequence of selecting a word for my poetry, I have never seen as much justification that follows the "definition" of nigger. Page 782 of my candy apple red, hard covered reference book offers a paragraph to further define it's usage. Slightly indented with lowercase bold letters, the word usage takes on the power of being a uniquely defined word, just out of its sequence in the alphabet and out of its rhythm . The capitalized and the italicized Nigger positioned next, is invisible. The paragraph whines and nags. "Nigger in senses 1 and 2 can be found in the works of such writers of the past as Joseph Conrad, Mark Twain, and Charles Dickens but it now ranks as perhaps the most offensive and inflammatory racial slur in English. Its use by and among blacks is not always intended or taken as offensive, but, except in sense 3, it is otherwise a word expressive of racial hatred and bigotry.

Hmmm.

Six pages earlier, the top of 776 the first few words in black bold lead. Ne-gri-to. ne-gri-tude. Ne-gro. I take a deep breath before I glance over the word that I fear to read most. Negro. The first definition reads, a member of the black race distinguised from members of other races by usually inherited physical and physiological characteristices without regard to language or culture; especially a member of a people belonging to the African branch of the black race. Hmm. This definition follows the subtle lead in, sometimes offensive. Worse than a passive aggressive supervisor, this phrase butts in three more times. Sometimes offensive - A person of Negro descent. Negro, adjective, sometime offensive. Again as a noun, Ne-gro-ness, sometimes offensive. The fragile letters pose in cursive slants. Symbols, brackets and emphasis marks further crowd the paragraph with inaction.

I close the dictionary, raise it, set it high on its shelf and exhale. Hmm, sometimes offensive. I sort through memories like pulling cherries from a bowl. Some memories are sweet and juicy. Others tighten my face with bitter contempt, like leaving stains on my fingers and my clothes. I recall sitting with a diverse group of college students in Florida ordering dinner. A waitress staring more at my skin and hair gazed in awe while I ordered. Maybe she thought we're celebrities. Near the end of dinner we asked about desserts. Again her big eyes widened as she faced our direction but never connected her glance into our eyes. She stuttered out the options, "uh.. ch.. chocolate, va'nigga, uh.. Vanilla, and uh.. strawberry. Her eyes zig zagged as her head fell and she scribbled something on her pad. My head jerked from left to right to determine who else unscrambled the slur from the stutter. The other Black student, smirked and rolled her eyes signaling to me that she also realized we had not been mistaken as celebrities.

Another college student slammed his hand against the table. "I can't believe she said that," he roused, "She could of at least tried to offend me too by saying Ma'nigga. You know, since I'm from Manila.. Philipines. Well, there goes her tip." The other two students at the table twisted back and forth trying to figure why the mood changed. We later united through silence and then laughter.

In another college setting, I noticed a limp body floating as I swam in a large public pool. My fears and images of death rushed through my mind like TV flahsbacks. My arms waved to warn and awaken the lifeless form. She continued to drift downwards. I grabbed the body of a young girl, kicked my feet to surface the pool. Other students read the terror on my face rather than hearing the grunts and screams for help. A strength in me forced her up out of the pool, onto her side and then her back. Water and blood drained from the girl's mouth. I rejoiced when she gasped for breath.

Word spread at this Historically Black College that I saved a young girl's life. Several students, particularly the male students, esteemed me as a R.A.N., a Real Ass Nigga. This informal title was typically attached to men of influence on campus, and usually the leadership of fraternities or sporting teams. I was a summer intern, participating in a workshop to learn more about the medical field. I left remembered as the R.A.N that rescued that girl.

Almost 15 years later, I hear a news report of a White teacher calling a Black student "nigger." The teacher justifies using the word. He alleges the school district taught him to use techniques to connect with students. He holds giant sized flash cards of "Nigger" and "Niggah" attempting to separate the meanings. He conjugates, placing accents and even uses the word in a sentence to set the context. He pleads with the reporters. He wants to understand the power of the "N" word. He does not. (Click to view)

http://www.whas11.com/sharedcontent/VideoPlayer/videoPlayer.php?vidId=49293&catId=49

Despite abolishing the legalization of the institutionalized slavery system, the "N" word lingers like a cultural artifact. Possibly the strength of the oral tradition helped to pass the word down like a grandson inheriting a priceless timepiece. Memories have been passed through generations leaving lasting marks, as real as physical scars left by a whip. The harsh sound of the "N" word dramatically affects the mood, like tobacco smoke might trigger my senses. And unlike the soothing smell of jasmine, that resurfaces peaceful memories, I detest cigarette fumes and how they make me feel. Although I have learned to tolerate smoking, my body is affected and remembers the disgust each time someone lights up.

So when others say just get over it and move on, I am reminded of this physiological example even before relying on the historical perspective of injustice that tainted my world. Like innocence lost, life will never be the same and so the strategies to approach normacly will differ for everyone. I cringe nearly every time I hear the word Nigga uttered in my presence. I am not numbed to the frequency the word is amplified through television or the radio. My comfort zone shakes and my reflexes are challenged when someone outside of the Black or should I say Negro race adds the word to their vocabulary. I am transported backwards through time, like falling into nightmare of the slave condition.

The debate on the use of Nigger/Nigga boils down to impact. Users of the "N" word may insist their intent differs, but the word carries the fires from hell. Slaves and their descendant first heard the slur as they struggled to survive the racially motivated economic system. Like pressured coal becomes diamonds, later generations adopted the word as a term of endearment. An unwritten right or a fraternal bond formed allowing Blacks to call each other Niggas without recourse. Maybe because they shared the experience of walking through hell's fire and survived. Some Blacks hold onto the word as more of a dirty family secret. They label the most ignorant, the most deviant and shameful persons of society with the "N" word reminiscent of the lazy nigger stereotype.

Creating divisions is not a new phenomenom. The slave labels House nigger and Field nigger is often alluded to in explaining current divisions in Black class. Others point to the opportunities available after Emancipation. I ponder the disparity in the Black community like a frustrated scientist testing the laws of gravity under water. I ask about the land acquisitions, homes and institutions, and the profits recognized by the free labor system. I research the laws written to restrict civil rights. I browse the propaganda of fear, attacking the character of Black men, women and children. I see the mental shackels, both external and internal, that continue to stifle the growth and progress of Black communities, despite the personal success of many Black individuals. I fear the next time I will be called nigger.