I am a writer, blogger and editor. I am an avid reader and a keen Scrabble player. I am a mother and wife. I am a black woman. All of these things are part of who I am but no single one defines me. I was reminded of this when I read James Chartrand‘s amazing story about changing her name and online persona to enable her to care for her family.
In some ways, this story made me sad, because it reminded me that there are always those who want to put us in a box and define how we live in it. They see the externals, make judgments and behave accordingly. I have turned up to interviews where people have been visibly shocked to see a black woman. “Your name doesn’t sound black,” I was once told. (Just what is a ‘black’ name, anyway?)
In others, it inspired me, because it shows that we don’t have to buy into those definitions, to allow others to say what’s right for us. We CAN fight back, even if not all of us choose to do it in James’s rather unorthodox fashion.
In much of my time in the UK, particularly in the work environment, I suffered for the double whammy of being both black and female. “Why didn’t you apply to work for one of the ‘ethnic’ papers?” asked one interviewer. “Because,” I replied, “the colour of my skin is does not define who I am and what I am interested in.”
I’d be lying if I said it was never an issue. There are ways in which the treatment of people of different ethnicities is so unequal as to forever create divides. (As a former lecturer on cultural studies, I have studied inequality as well as lived it.) I have been called the ‘n’ word, I have had accommodation evaporate before my eyes, I have had people try to pay me less despite my experience and skill. For me, those experiences do not give me the excuse for blanket hatred, for blaming others and for opting out of taking responsibility for my own life.
Unlike James, my picture is all over the internet. Unlike James, I use my real name for my online interactions. It’s true that there might be people who don’t hire me because I’m a black woman – their loss. Those who do hire me will find that like James, I know my value and I accept nothing less.
Article by Sharon Hurley Hall
Sharon Hurley Hall has been mentoring writers here at Get Paid To Write Online since 2005 to help them improve and build sustainable and successful writing careers. Check me out on sharonhh.com. Feel free to connect with me online on Google+.
Sharon has written 653 awesome articles for us at Get Paid to Write Online
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{ 22 comments }
Sharon,
Like you, I can’t quit thinking about this story. It taps into so many emotions that I didn’t fully realize were there.
Not long ago, I read a conversation between two women writers, one who had children and one who didn’t. There was distinct hostility between them, which surprised me.
I started asking my friends about it. Again, to my surprise, the mothers said they sometimes felt their childless acquaintances felt that by having children they had given up on having a good career or being independent. Conversely, those without children said they often felt as if society thought they were just wrong.
I do not define myself as a woman, nor as a mother, nor as a wife, nor as a writer…I am a dava and I am all of those things and more. There are far too many elements of my being to encompass them all in any one single word or definition.
.-= dava´s last blog ..<a href=\ =-.
(Looks like my previous comment got cut off, so her’es another try). When I read about James, I felt like I’d been punched in the gut – not because she’d deceived anyone – but because she’d had the need to do so. It’s a shame that our world is still so backwards that this kind of thing still goes on, in all of its many forms. It’s just plain ridiculous. We probably will be long gone when the world wises up, but I have to have faith that it will happen someday. When everyone is seen and valued as an individual human being, and not as a specific gender, race, creed, or any other arbitrary classification. Rock on, Sharon!
Sharon,
You captured my exact thoughts and feelings about James’ story in this post. I’ve shocked my share of clients when meeting them for the first time. Try showing up as a black woman wearing a hijab scarf. It’s left more than a few people speechless in the beginning.
But once we start talking, laughing, relaxing and brainstorming it’s all good. We have to know our value and what we bring to the table despite what others might think.
.-= Kimberly Ben´s last blog ..<a href=\ =-.
Twitter: TXWriter
December 16, 2009 at 14:39
Good for you Sharon!
For the record, I’m one of those who has always admired your work.
James’ story also shocked and saddened me. It also forced to think twice about something that I’d rather not think about.
Your point here is well-taken. What others think of us does not change who we are.
Twitter: shurleyhall
December 16, 2009 at 16:15
Dava, Donna, Kimberly, Laura, thank you all for your thoughtful comments on this issue. Like Donna, I keep hoping that one day we won’t need to discuss this type of issue any more and can be ourselves without fear of negative consequences.
Wow I had no idea about \
Wow, Sharon, I’m so sorry you’ve had to endure all that. It always saddens me – breaks my heart, really – to know that people aren’t treated like they’re just a person. I’ve always admired your work, looked up to you for wisdom and your expertise. Your color or name never crossed my mind even once. I just see you as successful and thought: “I want to be like her!”
I have so many emotions about James’ story, I don’t quite know how to react! Some things are coming to mind, though. I always thought it was a little odd that James didn’t put his picture anywhere on an About page, etc. Some women are intimidated, and concerned for their safety, but with a man – especially a man as rough around the edges as we perceived James to be – it struck me a little odd that he wouldn’t share a photo. I guess I pushed it to the back of my mind and got over it.
I don’t know… I just feel like my bubble has been busted. Like I believed something and admired his work and it was a lie. I know James is still as talented as she ever was, but I feel like I would have contacted her had I known she was a woman and wasn’t that tough man she portrayed herself to be. And it’s weird to me that I even felt that way.
Thanks for sharing your thoughts, Sharon!
Michele
Twitter: shurleyhall
December 17, 2009 at 15:43
These things happen, Michele, and most of the time I don’t let it get to me. James’s story stirred up a whole lot of thoughts for me (as you can tell since I’ve already posted on it twice). Like you, I thought it was odd that I never saw his face, but I really didn’t dwell on it. And to judge by the comments on the Copyblogger post, you’re not alone in having mixed feelings about it. Thanks for taking the time to comment.
You’re welcome, Sharon! And I’m glad you don’t dwell on those negative comments.
I want to be you when I grow up, Sharon.
Twitter: shurleyhall
December 18, 2009 at 05:05
Why, thank you, ma’am
Sharon, I liked you and realized your value for who you are period. Thank you for your open, honest sharing of your experience. Like you, I have had people meet me and in shock admit, “you don’t sound black.” I have been called the “n” word as recently as a few months ago, when it was hurled from a car window when I was out on a walk. Still, I choose not to see the ugliness. I choose to not enforce their ignorance by reacting in hatred or shame. I am proud of the person I am and the work I do. If that is not enough for some people it’s really their loss. However, I was typically higher paid than my male counterparts in Corporate. I have always been comfortable negotiating and would ask for things other would not. Doesn’t erase the reality we live in but it is proof that there is hope.
.-= Karen Swim´s last blog ..Why You Should Learn to Fight Fair =-.
Twitter: shurleyhall
December 21, 2009 at 19:44
Karen, I like your attitude. While negotiating has never been my favorite job, it certainly beats getting taken advantage of, so I’ve learned to do it.
On the other matter, I refuse to sink to the level of the bigots. Otherwise I’d be no better. I look for the good, positive examples that prove there is hope. Thanks so much for sharing your experience.
Twitter: allenat
December 22, 2009 at 19:05
I disagree with you, Sharon. Well, I agree that YOU know your worth, but I disagree that “James” knew hers. That is where you two part. I’m pretty sure that James did accept less: she accepted the “need” to play a part, which she and her partner have admitted was awful and stressful. Sure sounds like “less” for me. I’m sorta disgusted and repulsed.
Twitter: shurleyhall
December 23, 2009 at 05:29
My disgust is all for the sexism that the experiment reveals, Allena, so I guess we’ll have to agree to disagree on this one.
Bravo, Sharon! Well-said!
It’s very sad that such a situation should exist, but it’s great that you’ve chosen not to compromise precisely because you do know your worth and have proven it again and again.
Thanks for sharing your thoughts so simply yet eloquently!
With admiration,
Jeanne
Twitter: shurleyhall
December 29, 2009 at 09:32
Thanks, Jeanne
Thanks for focusing on the James story. I have been railing for years about how women’s stories and lives are as repressed, suppressed, and devalued as they ever were. Women are still too careful in how they speak in society–still tiptoeing around the opinions of others. We need bolder women. This story only underlines my desire to speak and write with honesty, regardless of how much I’m “punished” in so many subtle ways.
Twitter: shurleyhall
December 29, 2009 at 09:33
Bravo, Gina!
I have to admit I was a bit…turned off by his (her?) story. As female writers, we should be role models…and if we think we need to change our gender in order to become successful, what message are we telling others? That “positive discrimination” is okay if it helps you make more money?
You’re a great example for everybody, Sharon — you have talent and you’re not afraid to be yourself. I’m also a minority race (Asian) and have been subjected to racist remarks…surprisingly, from fellow writers. It’s really unfortunate that people still feel the need to judge people based on the colour of their skin. We’re not a skin colour…we’re people.
Twitter: shurleyhall
March 16, 2010 at 13:19
“We’re not a skin colour … we’re people” – exactly, Ann.
Sometimes you have to shrug off the negativity, move on and not let it poison your life.
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