'Negro'? Let's go back to 'colored'!
THE FIRST buzzword of the new decade is one that's also decidedly old: "Negro." Not even a month into 2010, the second most famous and despised n-word in the English language has reared its head on two separate occasions, rankling people of all colors and from every point on the political spectrum.
THE FIRST buzzword of the new decade is one that's also decidedly old: "Negro."
Not even a month into 2010, the second most famous and despised n-word in the English language has reared its head on two separate occasions, rankling people of all colors and from every point on the political spectrum.
Last week, the New York Daily News reported that blacks were upset over the Census Bureau's decision to include the racial designation "Negro" alongside "black" and "African-American." Critics argued that it was an unnecessary atavism, while the bureau noted that the term's inclusion was an attempt to avoid ageism. "Many older African-Americans identified themselves that way," said census spokesman Jack Martin, "and many still do."
Then, a highly publicized passage from the new book "Game Change," an insider look at the 2008 presidential election, found Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid (D-Nev.) in even hotter water than the Census Bureau. The excerpt quotes Reid as saying he had high hopes for Barack Obama's presidential candidacy because Obama's "light skin" and lack of "Negro dialect" would be attractive to voters.
On the "Today" show, Gwen Ifill did her best to debunk the nonsense that Reid's comments were at all malicious. (What's wrong with acknowledging the fact that a darker, less eloquent politician would have a harder go of it than Barack Obama?)
BUT THE damage was done. Reid's comments will undoubtedly follow him for years.
The census and Harry Reid are the latest to raise the question of what is and isn't an acceptable term for black Americans, but the battle has been waged among blacks for decades.
Obviously, "Negro" feels dated, nut older blacks say it, so perhaps it's not so bad. "Afro-American" also sounds dated, but in a less jagged way than "Negro." African-American is the norm among the PC elite, despite the fact that a white person with South African roots should probably be included in the definition.
Black is a fine catchall, I suppose, but it just seems so inaccurate. (I've never seen a truly black person).
A sense of identity is an important part of life. It's the reason gangs, fraternities and political parties are popular, and it's something slavery stole from generations of black Americans. Thanks to detailed records and surnames taken from ancient towns, many white Americans can trace their roots back to villages in Ireland, or find long-lost second cousins in Sicily - their lineages are often strong and well-defined.
But for most black Americans, whose ancestors were ripped from spots throughout Africa, tracing their origins isn't so easy. With no records to go by, it's nearly impossible to tell from what part of Africa someone originates without the help of expensive DNA specialists, who can then offer you what basically amounts to a ballpark estimate.
So it's no wonder so many blacks have tried (and failed) to create an all-encompassing nomenclature for an entire people, the thought being, "If we can't be Liberian-American or Nigerian-American, how about just black, right?"
But the long list of names blacks have given themselves is full of half-truths and falsehoods, and constantly updating it is silly and distracting from truly important issues.
That's why I propose we settle this once and for all with a term for blacks that is traditional, well-known and more accurate than any of its counterparts: colored.
To start, the most famous black organization in the world has used the word "colored" proudly in its name since its inception. "Negro" and "Afro-American" have for the most part entered and exited the lexicon, but "COLORED" remains on the NAACP seal, its seven curvy letters standing in all caps like some unbeaten line of soldiers.
Next, like it or not, there are still black Americans who call themselves "colored." Like the old folks the Census Bureau was accommodating with "Negro," my grandmother, 88 at the time, leaned over at my high school graduation in 2000 and noted, "Not a lot of colored kids at this school?" Was my grandmother a self-loathing racist? Or just using a word that accurately described the color of her skin, and mine?
Which brings me to my last and most important point: People of color in America are just that - colored - and these days, it's the only descriptor left that makes any sense.
What's considered "black" has always been a bit fishy. Barack Obama, Don Cheadle, Alicia Keys and Alek Wek dance up and down the color spectrum, and yet, as it stands now, they all fall under the term "black," which doesn't really describe any of their skin tones.
If we're speaking truthfully, I'm brown, but for whatever reason, that adjective was given to Latinos.
I don't begrudge that decision, but I find it difficult to agree to being called black, because I'm not. I'm also not sure I have any more right to the term "African-American" than a white guy from Mozambique.
What I do know is that my skin isn't white, it's colored, just like Michelle Obama, Quincy Jones, Tavis Smiley and Sidney Poitier - and, perhaps, yours.
The diversity in the community of color in the United States is truly remarkable, and it deserves a description that acknowledges that variance while also highlighting the group's unity. Consider it our E Pluribus Unum, and say it loud: "I'm colored - and I'm proud."
Cord Jefferson is a regular contributor to The Root (TheRoot.com), where this piece first appeared. He also blogs for HuffingtonPost.com.