The Life of a Safe Black - Andrew Cooper

I was reading a contribution to the CNN series: “Black in America”, made by T.J. Holmes. After reading it I was spurred to consider my own experiences as a black American. In his article entitled, “No, I don’t play for the 49ers”, T. J. recounts an experience he had while washing his car and the subsequent innuendo made by a white American that was, perhaps, culturally insensitive. T.J.’s story may be found at the following url:

http://ac360.blogs.cnn.com/2008/07/24/no-i-dont-play-for-the-49ers/

T.J.’s article merely alludes to a common experience that I think most successful black Americans (especially college students) can identify. His article was probably (and understandably) watered down for the public consumption on CNN. I believe, however, that despite how wildly the black American experience varies from person to person, there are some extremely common threads that bind the community in a shared experience. T.J. lightly touches on this point but I would like to underscore it.

A common experience of many successful black Americans is the frustration and burden encumbered upon those of us who serve as intermediaries between our colleagues in other races. You know—those people who are forced to be the “contact zone” of cultural discourse. These are the people who I affectionately call “the safe blacks”. These individuals are typically considered “token” and “special” amongst their non-black friends. In fact, they are, at times, considered entirely not black. If I had a nickel for every time a person said, “Andrew, you’re the white-est black guy that I know.” or “Andrew, you’re not a typical black person you’re a really different kind…” I’d be a very rich man!

The frustration we “safe blacks” feel is a result of an often unintended bias and an even more often display of culturally insensitive statements conveyed by our colleagues (both black and non-black alike). It is a failure to carefully consider what exactly we are insinuating in our statements.

I identify most strongly with my black American heritage. I can trace my family lineage back to the Cooper plantation. When I hear people call safe blacks “token” or “special” it is a remark more on the ability to speak unbroken English (or perhaps other languages like Spanish), to enjoy art and literature, to hold a steady job, to be single with no children, to listen to (and God forbid enjoy!) various types of music, indeed, to go to college on academic and not athletic scholarship, to be able to engage in intellectually stimulating discourse, and to communicate in oral and written form. These innuendos are built into the assumption that black people don’t do these things. What an idiotic sentiment!

What is being a safe black you may ask? Well, I suppose it’s not being the scary black. You know, the “angry black” or the “intimidating black”. What is even more absurd is that most black Americans that are seen as being assertive and demanding (in terms of respect) are instantly branded as being angry and intimidating. So, being a safe black means you must be willing to tolerate other’s ignorance and be willing to explain to them time and time again why things happen in “your” community.

Moving to GW was the first time I ever lived with non-black roommates. But in that short time, if I had a penny for every time I was asked, “why do you wear a durag at night?” or “Why do you brush your hair because you really can’t tell the difference…” I would be able to pay my tuition without scholarship! Being the safe black means other non-blacks are comfortable with asking you the stupid stuff they would be too afraid to ask the “angry black” or the “intimidating black”. Fearful of ridicule, these people would keep their ignorance personal but in the presence of a safe black the situation changes. The humiliating realty of being a “safe black” is that people speak and remove all doubt of their ignorance because they are “comfortable” around you. Being a safe black means having the character to absorb ignorance in a graceful way without being driven off the edge. It means being able to listen to your colleagues’ inane and culturally insensitive jokes and explaining why they are “inappropriate” without cursing them out; Or, completely ignoring them altogether; Or laughing them off with that uneasy “haha I really wish you wouldn't say stupid things like that” kind of laugh.

I must admit, I often retreat to the comfort of my room and chuckle to myself at the thought of how my cousins from Baltimore (who are not “safe blacks”) would react in response to the things that my close colleagues would dare to say to my face but would dare not say to guys like them.
Being a safe black sucks.

I suppose I will reconsider my safe black status.

- Andrew Cooper
Politics Editor
The Ace