|
ometime during the 1960s, "Negro" became wrong. Among its shadowy alternatives, "black" suddenly became right. It was an abrupt linguistic event. One moment, you were thought courteous and respectful when you said "Negro" (indeed, polite people regardless of race did not refer to Negroes as "black people," or worse, as "blacks"), next moment -- and until recently -- you are supposed to say "blacks" or "the black community." Use the word "Negro" and you're a certified bigot. There can be no forgetting, habitual mispronunciation
of the N-word by a vulgar few produced a hurtful slur. Whatever its faults,
though, "Negro" only had one meaning.
"Negro" owned a precise place in the minds of millions, and "positioning theory" would argue for its preservation. Of course, people have the right to call themselves anything they want and to change their collective designation at will. And yet, in the commercial world, an established trademark takes on immense value -- value that over time accrues to the product itself. No pun intended, but replacing a brand name denigrates the product, with perilous marketing consequences for the enterprise. In this case, as viewed from the outside, the benefits of change are hard to rationalize.
Saying "African American" seems to be indulging a cult of ethnicity more than dignifying a race. It gives first priority to differentiation -- the exact act being deliberately resisted in the fair administration of opportunites and the enforcment of laws here in America. By the way, if the proud roots of all black people are indeed traceable to Africa, are there not national or tribal diversities on that vast continent that also deserve to be recognized? In a free society, it must be decidedly difficult to produce an overnight taboo. For the case at hand, Negroes would need to mount a massive anti-"Negro" campaign. To clobber any word, its opponents must motivate tens of millions of people to take up verbal weapons. Stealth won't work. Leaders need to promulgate great manifestos, deliver galvanizing speeches. From outside the Black Power movement, one can only speculate about the process by which the word "black" was appropriated. Maybe the leaders acted on the advice of a commission or a task force. What shall we call ourselves? Afro-something? Hmm: "Afro power"? No, too continent-specific. Well, there's always "black." Never mind the unattractive associations...
"Black is beautiful!" was a cry of defiance, it seems, as much as a celebration of diversity. Forty years ago, this alliterative slogan launched "the black community." What's next after "the African American community"? No matter. I have successfully removed "Negro" from my vocabulary. |
|
|
|