The N-Word And Art

I have been struggling with the use of this word within the context of plays, books and films. Recently I attended a meeting in which a group of people spoke of the impact of this word in a play. It should be noted that it was mostly a group of white people with myself and another black woman being the only representatives of the black community within this conversation. The general feeling was one of discomfort at having the hear that hateful word, but there was also a sense of needing to justify its use because of the historical time period in which the play is set. Nobody wants to censor ART, as it were. And yet. I am troubled. I have never been an advocate of censoring art. I am, in fact, an artist. How do we as artists deal with presenting work that causes others pain? That causes ourselves pain? And I don't simply mean discomfort. I mean PAIN. Humiliation. Rage. I can't think of an equivalent word in the English language to the N-word.

There was talk of the use of this word within art being a "teaching moment". But for who? As a black person, I don't know that I need to be taught this lesson over and over again. I know that the word is wrong. I know what is feels like to be called 'that word'. Just the thought of it is enough to bring me to tears of rage and resentment. I am ambivalent about introducing black children to a narrative that places them lower than others. It feels like we, as educators and artists, are saying, "Look. This is who you were. This is who you are." As a black woman, I wonder how one turn that around and makes it a moment in which a black child can feel good about themselves? It's one thing to hear that word in reference to another race. It's another thing to hear that word in reference to YOUR race. It's a real rabbit hole of despair when I think of all of the American literary "classics" that contain that word. Here I am, trying to find a way into the story and suddenly I am told, as a black female reader, that I'm on the periphery, the edges, and I don't matter at all. Suddenly I can't identify with the main character, but am instead tracking all of the black people who hover around, the angry, or downtrodden, or trifling Negroes who the white people talk about as IDEAS or SYMBOLS more than actual persons. I recently read "The Heart Is A Lonely Hunter" and was struck by the positioning of the black people in that narrative. I don't know if I was OFFENDED exactly, but I certainly was left with a lot of lingering questions and a certain discomfort.

There was talk around this table of mental and emotional explorers (all of whom were brave enough to attend) of the N-word being used frequently within hip hop culture. I'm not exactly sure why this point was made. Not ALL hip hop music utilizes this word, just like all hip hop music doesn't refer to women in a derogatory way. Several people (several WHITE people) said that it was okay for black people to call other black people that word, but that a white person cannot use that word. (I appreciate being given 'permission' to say what I want to people of my own race by people of another race.) While I believe that it's true that a white person cannot use that word, I think it's a fallacy to suggest that black people call each other that. I don't use that word and I won't let anybody call me that. It doesn't make me feel good about myself. I don't care who you are. Calling me that is one quick way to start a fight. I'm not of the school of thought that says it can be used as a term of endearment or affection. But I also don't call my female friends "sluts" or "bitches" when I'm trying to be affectionate. To me it feels like a strange version of self-loathing. To call someone the N-word to be affectionate feels like saying, "I love you, but I also hate you." It's awkward and falls out of my mouth awkwardly. If it falls out at all which it doesn't.

So how do we as artists deal with this hateful word? I don't know. How do we avoid alienating people by referring to them as less than within the scope of a theatrical or literary piece? Do we simply accept the fact that some things are for a particular audience? Do we accept that nothing is universal and that there is always a group that's going to be left high and dry and recognize that sometimes that group is going to be YOU? How do we as artists deal with the fact that in order to create art we have to sometimes be ruthless and hurt people to their very cores? Art is generally not NICE; it's as human as humans are. It's messy and offensive and powerful and challenging and pathetic and unfair and sometimes, just sometimes, beautiful. I wonder: do I need to work on embracing that word the way I would embrace someone who hurt me - with empathy and forgiveness? Is that my role as an active art consumer? Something to continue pondering...