Who Are You? Summer 2017

Dear Claudia Rankine, I don’t know what genre Citizen falls into , but it strikes me that this fact may be part of your message: race and racism does not follow neat lines; it operates arbitrarily (yet with purpose) contradicting and overriding societal rules. So it makes sense that a book about facing racism wouldn’t follow conventional rules either. The way you articulate your ideas makes for maximum impact on the reader. We are taken through story after story, always on our toes, impressed by the sheer number of back to back to back descriptions of how black people experience being a citizen in America. Of all the striking lines in your book, one stood out to me as particularly poignant. You describe the experience of  a person having to convince their partner not to confront a person who presumably said something racist. You write: “this is how you are a citizen: Come on. Let it go. Move on.” This is a theme you discuss in other specific incidents, but this single phrase su...

Dear Claudia Rankine,     I loved your collection of stories in your book Citizen. The way you captured the dehumanization and sense of invisibility that racism causes was very powerful. I was particularly struck by your writing on Serena Williams. As you describe Williams’ realization that she must contain her emotion despite the injustice she endures, you mention that commentators said “she has grown up… as if responding to the injustice of racism is childish.” This analysis reminded me of former 49ers quarterback Colin Kaepernick’s decision to kneel during the National Anthem. Many viewed Kaepernick’s protest as irresponsible and called for Kaepernick to remain in his place. Yet, just as Williams stood up for herself in the early years of her career, Kaepernick continued to protest. What is disheartening to me is that the parallel continues because Kaepernick has decided to stop the protest for the upcoming year. With this in mind, I ask you: Would you say Williams ...

To John Howard  Griffin: Your action spearheaded the  American society's advance and attempt to resolve racial problems. The book Black Like Me  will always be the most influential record of reality in the United States history. Your valiant act granted new meaning to the action of passing and has shown every single person in this country how a small act can change the whole status quo. From  this book you wrote back in 1959, I can see your eagerness to solve the problem and wipe the racial problem out of America's national identity as a whole by changing your own identity. To some extent, you are not only a trailblazer but also a patriot. Your records opened window for every single citizen to see with their own eyes how injustice had plagued the nation and how important it is to resolve the issue.

Dear Claudia Rankine, What struck me was the cost of being black compared to the wage of being white. White people in American society have access to a host of physical and psychological benefits, all constituting a "wage." On the other hand, black people face a wide array of injustices, which are particularly striking when looking at them through the lens of silence. Being black means accepting instances of injustice because what is the alternative? Black people are faced with so much injustice and so many microaggressions for passively existing, so why would an angry reaction help? Even in a state of invisibility, the disdain towards blacks in our society is apparent, and this is the psychological cost. Uma

Dear Claudia Rankine, A major theme of your masterpiece, Citizen , is visibility: how much space are you allowed to take up in every situation in which you are the only minority there? How about in the public consciousness? Even a sigh or a moan, those sounds which feel to you most uncontrollable and natural reflections of your dire circumstance, feel too loud. For some African-Americans, invisibility, a kind of "keep your head down" mentality, serves as the best strategy to get ahead. Try to take the higher ground and not fly into a fit of rage at every injustice. Unfortunately, this can also desensitize and numb oppressed groups to everyday aggressions, those you describe so keenly with each flip of the page. To me, the most unfathomable part of your story was when you described the phenomenon of people mistaking you for other Black people. As you mention, "Apparently your own invisibility is the real problem causing her confusion." (43) I know this kind of ...

Dear Claudia Rankine, While reading your book Citizen: An American Lyric , I became acutely aware of your focus on the power of words. Names and terminologies all have immense weight and often contain entire identities in a single word. In your stories and poems, you recount experiences in which your name was taken from you and you were mistaken for another person solely because of your race - that it’s a “all black people look the same” moment; experiences in which others’ sentences have the ability to physically affect you; experiences in which your words were discredited because of your identity. You often repeat phrases such as, “What did he just say? Did she really just say that? Did I hear what I think I heard? Did that just come out of my  mouth, his mouth, your mouth?” Where does this power originate? How did words come to hold such strength and meaning? And how does one find the ability to break free of the constraints of words? Sincerely, Lucy Sandeen

Dear Claudia Rankine, In your lyric, "Citizen" you discuss identity in America and introduce the idea that one possesses a dual identity, one of self-created identity and one that is predetermined by society due to history and established social hierarchies.  I saw and found this idea interesting in your discussion of Serena Williams.  Serena who possesses large talent proven through her acquisition of multiple world titles and Olympic medals has often been the recipient of discrimination and unfair judgments not only during matches but also surrounding her day to day actions.  This prejudice occurs I argue not as a result of her self-identity, but her historical identity.  This proves the power of historical identities because no matter the poise and skill Williams possessed she was judged based on a racial perception that derived from her races historical origins.  Know this information I question whether historical identity blinds one from seeing another...