National
Symbols are Important to Black America
By Jazelle Hunt
NNPA Washington Correspondent
WASHINGTON (NNPA) – Five days after South Carolina retired the Confederate flag with much fanfare, a small group of protesters in Oklahoma City greeted President Barack Obama with Confederate flags. The following weekend, Ku Klux Klan members in Charleston, S.C. brandished both Confederate and Nazi flags for a rally at the capitol
It’s an appropriate reflection of the way American culture values symbolism, even when it doesn’t line up with reality.
“The problem is even though we see these symbols [and] events [such as] the removal of the Confederate flag…it only serves to remind us that deep down inside, these are still only symbols, gestures even,” said Tewodross Melchishua, award-winning filmmaker and visual artist, and professor at Bowie State University in Maryland.
“The systems of White supremacy, bigotry, racism and oppression still remain at the core of this country. The symbols are removed but we know deep down inside that the attitudes and beliefs behind them remain.”
But Black America suffers the same attachment to these symbols, for better or for worse.
From the significance of Black church burnings, to Serena Williams’ dominance, Black people often attach larger-than-life meaning to people, objects, and events. In some ways it is an essential part of Black culture, and a means of empowerment. Karanja Keita Carroll, professor of Black Studies at the State University of New York-New Paltz, points out that the Black experience in America has made this kind of symbolism necessary.
“Our unique circumstances within the United States, being victims of White supremacy and having very minimal representation of who we are – the best of who we are – forces us to emphasize, highlight, and uplift those people who represent us, and thus function as a symbol for who we are,” said Carroll, who is also the associate editor of the Journal of Pan African Studies.
In other words, lack of positive representation in mainstream society has made conditions ripe for overreliance on and defense of Black public figures.
“As people of African descent, we naturally gravitate to, use and respond to symbol and metaphor. It is indeed subconscious but also a subliminal means of communication and signifying, which is also rooted in our oral traditions, language, music, fashion and visual culture,” Melchishua explained. “We are still bombarded with negative images of our people. We reconcile this by uplifting ourselves and defending our figures, icons, sometimes for the good and some times for the bad.”
The bad side manifests when all that uplifting backfires. As Black America puts people, things, and events on a pedestal, the possibility for disappointment looms large. The latest example, of course, is Bill Cosby and his renewed sexual assault scandal.
“It’s a double-edged sword because that representation can quickly turn into misrepresentation. There’s something old people say – just because you’re my skin doesn’t mean you’re my kin,” Carroll said. “The Cosby situation is interesting, to say the least, because prior to this, he was saying things like Black people need to teach their children to read…need to stop giving their children ‘ghetto’ names…and a whole bunch of stuff that devalues our existence. I don’t know if Cosby represents us.”
The other downfall is in the lack of control of our symbols and images. Black culture sometimes becomes marketable in the mainstream – but only in White hands. Last year saw the birth of the term, “Columbusing” – a new word for the age-old practice of Whites “discovering” things that people of color have pioneered, or already know.
Carroll said, “I think that symbols historically, for African people, from the mdw ntr [hieroglyphs] found within Egypt, to Adinkra symbols found within Ghana…but we need to make sure the symbols represent our political, social, and cultural image as a community.”
Both Carroll and Melchishua agree that exalting people and objects as representative or heroic isn’t a bad thing in itself, but it is important to support this with knowledge, critical thinking, and self-determination.
“These events mean something different to the mainstream because the narrative is always being changed but not by us and usually not with our permission,” Melchishua explained. “I would add that as a country we are very ignorant of history. The only way to truly reconcile this is with having a critical study of history and to challenge all symbols; those we have created within our own community, and those that have been imposed upon us.”
Activism
Oakland Post: Week of November 13 – 19, 2024
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Oakland Post: Week of November 6 – 12, 2024
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#NNPA BlackPress
OP-ED: The Illusion of Allyship. White Women, Your Yard Signs Mean Nothing to Me
NNPA NEWSWIRE – “The blue bracelets are something White women are wearing so others can see that they didn’t vote for Trump,” says Liberal Lisa from Oklahoma on X. Chile, bye. These bracelets are hollow symbols, empty gestures that mean nothing to me. An accessory to claim distance from Trump’s legacy is superficial comfort, while the choice to not stand with us in the voting booth is far more profound.
Political yard signs can symbolize intentions and allegiance. But this year, they’ve also symbolized betrayal. During this general election, Black women were led to believe that more White women would stand with us. Exit polls, however, told a different story. Despite overwhelming displays of support, more White women still chose to vote for the convicted felon, reality TV star, and rapist. White women answered the call but left us hanging at the polls.
A Familiar Disappointment
I live in DeKalb County, Georgia, and the abundance of Harris-Walz yard signs could’ve fooled me. But I’ve seen this before, back when Stacey Abrams ran for governor. White women showed up, put up signs, attended rallies, knocked on doors, and phone-banked. Yet, when it came time to vote, they let us down—not once but twice. I’ve been here for over 15 years, and if there’s one thing I know, it’s that political signs are symbols without weight.
In every election, I’ve talked with White women. Most aren’t the primary earners in their families and vote along party lines, aligning with the preferences of their fathers and husbands. These conversations reveal a reluctance to break from tradition, even when their votes affect women and certainly when their votes impact the lives of people who look like me.
The Illusion of Solidarity—Symbols Are Not Enough
On social media, I’m seeing White women posting pictures of blue bracelets to “prove” they didn’t vote for Trump. “The blue bracelets are something White women are wearing so others can see that they didn’t vote for Trump,” says Liberal Lisa from Oklahoma on X. Chile, bye. These bracelets are hollow symbols, empty gestures that mean nothing to me. An accessory to claim distance from Trump’s legacy is superficial comfort, while the choice to not stand with us in the voting booth is far more profound.
I’ve seen Black Lives Matter signs and black squares posted on Instagram to “prove” support for Black people, but we now know that was a lie, too. Will those same people who claimed Black lives mattered now take down their Harris-Walz signs and show their true selves?
Navigating these truths is a daily struggle for me—professionally and socially. White women often misuse their privilege, supporting us only when it’s convenient. Seeing overqualified Black women sabotaged or abandoned by White women at critical moments is a constant emotional challenge. It’s exhausting to live with this reality, especially when solidarity seems like something they pick up and discard at will.
One clever campaign ad from Harris-Walz that spoke directly to White women. “Your Vote, Your Choice” emphasized that their vote was private—independent of their household situation. Another was from Olivia Howell Dreizen, the “Vote Without Fear” campaign, which empowered women to consider the greater impact of their choices. But it seems many still couldn’t choose the roadmap to freedom—even when it was handed to them.
A Call for Action Beyond Words
White women, I want to believe you care, but actions speak louder than yard signs, bracelets, or Instagram posts. Show up in our communities, advocate in your workplaces, and stand up to dismantle the structures that uphold white supremacy. Only through real action will we know where you stand.
If you choose not to act, we see you—and we know exactly where you stand. Good luck these next four years.
Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed in this article do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of BlackPressUSA.com or the National Newspaper Publishers Association.
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