Hello World,

About a week ago, some friends and I met at a forum my friend hosted to discuss various issues in the black community. Of course, one of those topics was the election of the first black president and the changes that are likely to take place in our community as a result. Many of the women, including me, spoke with pride of finally seeing a sho nuff Black woman celebrated at a worldwide level. For once, it seems that the ethnocentric standard of beauty rather than the Eurocentric standard of beauty won out…And no disrespect to my high yella sisters, but it seems to me that when many black men “make it” they choose to go for either the white girl or the closest they can get to it…But Barack, who is the next leader of the free world, chose a brown-skinned, black woman who goes weaveless. No disrespect to those who accessorize with weaves, but that’s cause for a celebration. Had this election occurred when I was a little girl, I’m sure it would have gone a long way to affirm the beauty that I sometimes questioned when I looked in the mirror…more about that later.

So when a friend of mine e-mailed this article to me a few days ago, I was delighted. I was also suprised that I had neither written nor said anything about one of Michelle’s most salient features.  In the article,  First Lady Got Back by Erin Aubry Kaplan, she describes her joy of seeing a woman with one of our culture’s most celebrated features in the White House.

“Free at last. I never thought that I — a black girl who came of age in the utterly anticlimactic aftermath of the civil rights movement — would say the phrase with any real sincerity in my lifetime. But ever since Nov. 4, I’ve been shouting it from every rooftop. I’m not excited for the most obvious reason. Yes, Obama’s win was an extraordinary breakthrough and a huge relief, but I don’t subscribe to the notion that his capturing the White House represents the end of American racial history. Far from it. There is a certain freedom in the moment — as in, we are all now free from wondering when or if we’ll ever get a black president. Congratulations to all of us for being around to settle the question.

But what really thrills me, what really feels liberating in a very personal way, is the official new prominence of Michelle Obama. Barack’s better half not only has stature but is statuesque. She has coruscating intelligence, beauty, style and — drumroll, please — a butt. (Yes, you read that right: I’m going to talk about the first lady’s butt.)”

Yes, that’s right Michelle, you can call her Mrs. Obama if you’re nasty, got a butt, and I, for one, say it’s about time that booties be celebrated at a worldwide level. Brothers, can I get an “Amen” this Sunday? One of the points that Kaplan makes in the article is how black women sometimes feel like we have to hide our booties to blend in at the workplace.

“Thanks to Michelle, looking professional and provocative in a distinctly black way will become not only acceptable but also part of a whole presidential look that’s more, well, inclusive. Now we’ll all be able to wear leggings to board meetings; we’ll sport pencil skirts sans the long jackets meant to cover the offending rear at big conferences where we have to make a good impression.”

As I said in my last post, I grew up in white schools. However, when I went home I was surrounded by black people in my neighborhood. This dichotomy created confusion when it came to my beauty and culture.  I remember in third grade as a part of a history lesson, my classmates and I had to dress up as American historical figures. A newspaper photographer took pictures of some of us and told us that we were going to be in the paper. I was crushed when I saw a picture of me and a classmate. In the caption of the picture, it was said that I was a “slave woman,” and the other girl in the picture was Betsy Ross. Umm, excuse me, Mr. Newspaper Photographer Man, I was Harriet Tubman!!! (If you couldn’t get that simple fact right, then you shouldn’t have been in the business!)  Incidents like this chipped away at my self esteem.

Around that same time, the little boys in my neighborhood began telling me I had a big butt. I did notice that my little girl dresses bunched up in the back but I wasn’t too self conscious about it until they started to notice. I also noticed that the little girl dresses on the white girls at my school moved easily over their backsides as they skipped along. (I won’t even get into my fascination with their swinging ponytails.) I figured if I noticed, they noticed too. So what was my antidote? Every day for a long time I started standing with my back against the wall and tried to tuck my butt in. I figured the wall would help me stand so that my butt went in rather than protruded.

It didn’t work. In the seventh grade, this guy, Francisco Ruiz, said to me, “Why is your butt so big?” (Yes, I still remember his name.)  I was flabbergasted and unsure how to respond. I,  after what seemed like ten minutes of stunned silence, finally uttered, “I don’t know.” After that I had had enough, and I was determined to go to a black high school. I lobbied for my cause for about a year.  As I said in my last post, my parents did finally relent and let me go to a black high school and from the moment, I walked into its doors, I no longer felt like I had to apologize for my big booty.  By the time I graduated from high school, I had totally stopped trying to camouflage my booty altogether. In fact, my shorts and jeans were probably too tight for my mama’s taste.

And now that I’m in my ’30s, there are even books to back up what I now know to be true. Having a big booty is like having “an open door that no one can shut.” (Shout out to my Bible Study class! Tell me if you can find where this excerpt of scripture is found in Revelation. Forgive me if I’m being sacrilegious.) Has anyone ever read  “The Rules: Time-tested Secrets for Capturing the Heart of Mr. Right?” It is basically a book about playing hard to get as a strategy to get a man. The first rule in this book is, “Be a ‘Creature Unlike Any Other.” The feminist answer’s to this book is “The Real Rules: How to Find the Right Man for the Real You.” The first rule in this book is, “Treat Men the Way You Want Them to Treat You.” Both books have good points. But the third book,  “The Sistahs’ Rules (Not to be Confused with The Rules): Secrets for Meeting, Getting and Keeping a Good Black Man,” I can really get down with.  Rule #1 in this book is, “Celebrate the Power of the Booty.” Now, I know that brothers like to quote this line from Poison -“Never Trust a Big Butt and a Smile.” But they just frontin’. They know there is power in the booty!

Having a big booty can take you places in life – just ask Michelle O.

P.S. I wish I could go back in time a la “Back to the Future” and tell that my 8-year-old self! And since Kaplan referred to Sir Mix-A-Lot’s hit, “Baby Got Back,” in her commentary, I feel compelled to include his video here.

Any Thoughts?