Jackson Free Press

Black clothing is the choice du jour to disguise excess weight. The blackness of night can camouflage all sorts of "down low" activities. But I didn't realize that black could make people invisible. Until recently I never really paid it much attention. I'd be approaching someone on a stairwell or passing a stranger on the sidewalk, and then it would happen: I'd suddenly become invisible. Amazing! Was I a scientific mystery, or should I join the ranks of the X-Men? It even happened when I was out with white friends. People could see them, but I was perfectly invisible as greetings were exchanged or as we were being shown to our table in a restaurant.

OK, maybe I'm being dramatic (I am a Leo no less). But it still perplexes me that some people can ignore other human beings simply because of the color of their skin. I've approached and said hello to white people of various ages or social distinctions on several occasions in the last few months and got nothing back except a glance in the opposite direction. I hate to break it to you, but I won't just go away if you ignore me. Sorry, folks, it's not that easy. Never has been, and never will be.

I read Ralph Ellison's "Invisible Man" years ago as a college student. Back then I would have characterized the book as dark, strange and perhaps a bit haunting. I would still use those words today, but now they would be tempered with a new understanding of the book's title and the struggle of Ellison's protagonist to define himself on his own terms. And I finally realize I am that invisible man. Black people often are and don't even know it.

Caught up in the trappings of success and popularity that society often thrusts on us, black people forget to be heard above the clamor of cheering crowds (e.g. co-workers, family members, adoring fans). Somewhere along the road to achievement, we leave behind our true motives and dreams along with the forebears who paved the way in the first place. We shroud ourselves with nonchalant attitudes, becoming invisible little by little. In this election year, that invisibility becomes even more apparent.

As the horse race heats up, I'm hearing a lot of talk about voter apathy among teens and young adults. Young people complain that politicians aren't speaking to them, aren't concerned with the issues that affect their lives and can't connect in any meaningful way.

Black folks could certainly echo those sentiments. The difference? In a lot of ways we make ourselves invisible in the political process by simply accepting the status quo or hiding out on Election Day. Take the state flag vote a couple of years ago. I know there are enough black folks in this state that we could have finally eliminated Mississippi's badge of dishonor. Heritage and family pride, my behind. Symbols of hatred will remain just that until they are relegated to their rightful place in history—a faded photograph in a history book, not proudly billowing over the state capitol building. But I digress.

Some forms of this mysterious invisibility we can't control. We can make attempts to assuage the ignorance of others, but as the old saying goes: You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make him drink. As for the self-imposed invisibility that our comfort zones and indifference have forced us into, we have to take action now to reverse the ill effects of remaining silent and faceless for far too long. The simple act of going to the polls can be very empowering. And even more powerful is supporting candidates of whatever ethnic background who recognize that black people are an integral part of the community. I'm not talking about a token face in a campaign ad. I want political leaders who understand that our blood, sweat and tears have mingled with everyone else's to establish the institutions and industries on which our communities are built.

Yes, black can hide a lot of things, but our determination and strength as a people should not be one of them. We must throw off the cloak of apathy and turn our invisibility into an advantage. If we're lucky, we'll sneak in with our votes, change the system and reclaim our communities before anyone knows what hit 'em. You might not see me on Election Day, but I'll be there proudly and patiently standing in line at the polls to cast my vote for someone who knows that I exist.
Jennifer Spann is a regular JFP columnist.

Previous Comments

ID

68370

Comment

I have had the EXACT same problem when my hair get to long & I wear it down.... - I've had long hair since I was about 17.. - and at this point i've forgotten exactly why I wanted long hair.... now it's just a part of me. probably just because I CAN... and I just have never wanted to look like everyone else.... (also sadly, I find that I am completely INVISIBLE to jackson females....chicks in jackson don't dig guys with long hair, but that's a whole other tirade...) ANYWAY, I cut it real short about once a year when it starts to getting towards the middle of my back... - though most time i wear it up - just to keep it out of the way - and - because people treat me different when i have it down.. - especially older uptight white people.... and once or twice a year i'll grow a big thick Malcom White goatee.. - making me look like Jesus, - or Satan... & I've actually had mothers pull their children closer to them as I walk by them in the Kroger! No lie! People treat me different when i have my hair down, they always have.... - & i've never understood why... i grew up in Alabama & it was allot WORSE there... anyway, it sucks and it aint right p

Author

dang ol' philip

Date

2003-05-05T12:12:15-06:00