Tears We Cannot Stop: A Sermon to White America

On the surface, the Wilmore controversy appeared to be little more than a skirmish between black elites over the use of politically incorrect language. In truth we got a glimpse of something far older, far bigger, and far more intense: the fierce battle to define black identity—indeed blackness itself—that has raged in black quarters since black folk set foot in the New World. The word nigga captures that tension.

Nigga often sounds organic and sensual in the mouths of black folk. Its meaning is shaped by the circumstance in which it’s said. It is a term that works best when spiced with humor and slang. It is a greeting. “What up nigga?” It is a direct object noun. “You my nigga if you don’t get no bigga.” It is meant to emphasize or celebrate. The set up: “Hey man, I just got into Harvard.” The celebration: “Nigga!” It is an imperative suggested by a change in tone. “Hey, bro, my doctor just called and said I’ve got to get some blood work.” The speaker is urged to comply with the doctor’s wish in a responding voice that slightly stretches the first syllable: “Nigga!” It is laughter. “These girls never give me any play and I drive a Mercedes, as in Mercy ‘deez payments killin’ me!” The humorous response, with hand over mouth: “Nigga!” It is a sign of approval: “My nigga!” It is a sign of disapproval, said sternly with squinting eyes: “Nigga.” It is an expression of disbelief spiked with a smirk: “Nigga, please!” It expresses self-hate, much like nigger does, with a scalding, scolding tone: “Niggas.” And it signifies a love for one’s folk even as one acknowledges their flaws, largely in a light-hearted vein: “These niggas.”

If more of you understood that nigger is a world apart from nigga, and if you understood how the different spelling and pronunciation—and the race of the user—changes its meaning, then some of you might not insist that you should be able to say it too.

Beloved, feel free to admit it. Most of you thought that black folk were saying nigger. You thought that you had been banned from using it because it was a horrible word, only to discover, to your surprise, that black folk were saying it too, which meant that it was once again safe to say. But many of you felt disappointed. You felt it your duty to admonish black people that they should know better since the word supports the bigotry of some whites. Too many whites believe that it is easier to warn black folk not to use the word nigga—to tone down their lyrics and eliminate a troubling word—than it is to keep white folk from using a racist epithet that still echoes in white quarters. Some of you may even feel a bit of anger since you had done so much to keep your family and friends from using the word. You think it is hard to tell white folk not to use the word when black folk simply won’t stop.

My friends, white privilege screams in many of these reactions. The fact that too many white folk don’t know the difference between nigger and nigga is more than a lack of curiosity; it is a refusal to learn about black life and culture.

Of course, it cannot be denied that some black folk also think there’s no difference between nigger and nigga. But even though that’s true, the stakes are different. Many whites draw equivalence between the terms as a way to establish fair rules about what blacks and whites should be able to say to each other. Many of you believe that the ban is universal and means nobody should use the word. Many blacks agree. Their aim is largely pragmatic. They want to keep white folk from believing they have a right to say the word in public. If the best way to do that is to keep black folk from saying it too, then so be it. That history sets some black folk’s teeth on edge. They think the term’s mutation to nigga offers scant relief from the hateful charm of nigger. They think that many of you won’t be smart enough to tell the difference between the two. This may be where black conflict merges with white privilege. I refuse, and I hope you do too, to turn white Americans into infants. Older members of your communities know, or can easily learn, that there’s a difference in the two terms.

Is it reasonable to say that younger whites who hear the relentless thump of nigga on their favorite rap tunes are ignorant of the history of violence against black folk that nigger suggests? Is it possible that those same black artists are poor historians too? That may be true. Yet those same kids, indeed those same artists, can’t be let off the hook for refusing, as my father used to say, to “get their lesson.” We don’t excuse young people their ignorance of American history; we teach them, even as we chide their bluster and their pride in not knowing.

I had to testify in the 1990s before a state legislature about the effects of rap music on our nation’s youth. I had to answer in part the claim that a white boy had been encouraged to use the “N word” because he heard it in his favorite music. I asked the legislators, rhetorically, if that same boy, who had been introduced, perhaps, to the “B word” too—which is repeated, arguably, as much as the “N word” in rap music—had refrained from using the term against, or around, his mother. I supposed out loud that he had no doubt learned how and when and with whom to use the epithet, or even one of its offshoots like “beyotch” or “biotch.” Thus he learned not to use the B word in certain contexts, and should understand that he cannot use the N word either. The same is true for other white boys. Even as they hear the word nigga constantly looped they should know better than to abscond with the privileges of blackness tucked into their oversize clothing. I’m sure you realize the hypocrisy of urging folk to be responsible and yet making excuses for white America.

You may have heard some black folk argue that using nigga is a sign of black self-hate. That is black folk denying their own history, denying their own savvy, their ability to code-switch and to make distinctions between words and the histories those words carry. There are many signs of black self-hate to combat, but using nigga isn’t one of them. Martin Luther King, Jr., the greatest black man ever, and arguably the greatest American too, used nigger. The night before he was murdered, King had a pillow fight with his lieutenant Andrew Young and his closest friend Ralph Abernathy. King and his compatriots often let off steam with such antics as they confronted the heart of American darkness. During the pillow fight, King playfully reprimanded Young, asking, “Lil nigger, where you been?” It is not that King is beyond the possibility of self-hate; a compelling argument for that resides in his little-known yet tragic disdain for dark-skinned black women. But self-hate certainly could not be ascribed to King for humorously using nigger as he was about to sacrifice his life for black freedom.

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Beloved, you’ve got to face the fact that accusing black folk of perpetuating the legacy of inequality by using nigga is a vicious ruse. It is yet another way of refusing to accept responsibility, of wanting everyone else but white folk to practice the accountability you preach. All of this is a calculation to avoid a bigger issue, and that is how black folk are, after all of our efforts to be accepted as fully American, still seen as the other.





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