The Kind of Essay That I Miss Writing

I wrote the following essay as a part of my American Novel class, based on one of compulsory texts we discussed - The Autobiography of An Ex-Colored Man by James Weldon Johnson.

During consultation, my professor mentioned that she was disappointed with the conclusion. Yes, me too. I was suffering from the lack of creativity, not to mention was pressed by the dateline (excuses). But one thing for sure, after struggling with the first assignment (an essay on Edgar Huntly, or Memoir of A Sleep-walker by Charles Brockden Brown), I immensely enjoyed the process of drafting and writing this one, probably over a weekend.

I am forever indebted to my professor and classmates, for the stimulating discussions and inductions into the cultural and historical contexts of the novel. I could have not written this essay without them. Heck, I could have not fully appreciated my short American experience without the class.

I do not remember the exact grade I'd gotten, but I earned a B for the class. I had to convince myself that it was okay, and it was. The world did not end. Yet :)

Enjoy. May it be beneficial.

The Search: One Man’s Quest for His Identity

When my grandmother passed away thirteen years ago, there was a huge debate among her surviving children, namely my mother and her four siblings about the family history. My grandmother was adopted, back in the days when people sell their children; primarily for money, but more importantly for the child’s better future. The core issue of the argument was about her racial identity. Even though she was brought up in a Malay family, assumed a Malay name, lived in Malay culture, spoke fluent Malay with the impossibly difficult to comprehend East Coast accent, married a Malay man (who followed her to the afterlife less than a month after her passing) and bore Malay children who repeat the cycle. But physically, she was everything but a Malay. From her white porcelain complexion, a pair of slanted almond-shaped brown eyes and petite, delicate physique; she could be easily mistaken to be Chinese, or Thai. The family argument ensued and its conclusion has now escaped me. It is of no importance as the outcome is not the issue that I want to raise. Rather, I was quite shocked when my mother eventually admitted my suspicion all along; that she is a product of mixed parentage. For the first time in my life, I actually come to term with my apparent Chinese features, which are inherited from my grandmother and have drawn taunts and teases in the countless pre-dominantly Malay schools I have attended over the years.

Reading The Autobiography of an Ex-Colored Man by James Weldon Johnson, I feel a strong sense of déjà vu for the child The Ex-Colored Man was when he was first forced to confront the reality of his parentage. This revelation is only a beginning to a deeper search for identity, especially concerning his to attempt to remediate the clash between blood and upbringing, and which one of those is the ultimate definition of one’s self. Literally, self could be loosely defined to be “the type of person one is, especially the way one behaves, looks or feel” [1, p.1376]. This definition is quite straight forward; but to my understanding, it considers both one’s blood (which is depicted by looks if taken literally to be one’s physical features) and upbringing (which is depicted as the way one behaves) in defining what is self. To discuss this further, the perfect example would be The Ex-Colored Man himself. Biologically he is of mixed parentage; African-American (black) and Caucasian (white). But socially, he is brought up in a household that is similar to that of a typical middle class white family, sans father. The Ex-Colored Man describes himself as “…a little aristocrat” [2, p.7] and his mother “…dressed me very well and I developed that pride which well dressed boys generally have” [2, p.7]. He also mentions that his mother has no financial difficulties, which is a very common problem among uneducated black people at the time because “…she must have derived a fair income from her work (sewing)” [2, p.7] and periodically would receive letters and “…they contained money” [2, p.7]. Besides that, The Ex-Colored Man receives classical music education which is unheard of among underprivileged black children as he would later find out from his landlady in Jacksonville: “…the colored people were poor, and the general price for music lesson is only twenty-five cents” [2, p.69]. His mother might have been throwing hints around the house about his black heritage. The Ex-Colored Man remembers that “…she opened the little square piano and picked out hymns. I can recall now that whenever she played hymns from the book her tempo was decidedly largo. Sometimes on the other evenings, when she was not sewing, she would play simple accompaniments to some old Southern songs which she sang. In these songs she was freer, because she played them by the ear” [2, p.7-8]. Therefore, with such a strong ‘white’ upbringing and no clear contradiction from his mother except for occasional singings of hymns and slave songs which identifies strongly with the black community, it is inevitable for The Ex-Colored Man to grow up thinking he is white.

However, what amazes me the most is how The Ex-Colored Man embraces the blackness that he has been so ignorant of, even if the way it is revealed to him is could be hurtful, especially for such a young child. In his own words, he reminiscences the day of the revelation: “One day near the end of my second term at school the principal came into our room and, after talking to the teacher, for some reason said: ‘I wish all the white scholars to stand for a moment.’ I rose with the others. The teacher looked at me and, calling my name, said: ‘You sit down for the present, and rise with the others’” [2. p16]. For the first time in his sheltered life, The Ex-Colored Man is forced to acknowledge the other part of his identity. He says “I noticed the ivory whiteness of my skin, the beauty of my mouth, the size and liquid darkness of my eyes, and how the long, black lashes that fringed and shaded them produced an effect that was strangely fascinating even to me. I noticed the softness and glossiness of my dark hair that fell in waves over my temples, making my forehead appears whiter than it really was” [2, p.17]. The Ex-Colored Man’s lack of resistance to this newfound identity, I believe, could be attributed to his innocence and naivety. But, while he easily accepts it, his mother thinks otherwise. This is described in the dialogue between mother and son, when she is asked “‘Mother, mother, tell me, am I a nigger?’” [2, p.17], the mother replies through teary eyes “‘No, my darling, you’re not a nigger”’ [2, p.18] but when pressed again “‘Well, mother, am I white?” [2, p.18], she offers very little confirmation about his identity by answering “‘…your father is one of the greatest men in the country – the best blood of the South is in you - ’” [2, p.18]. In my opinion, it is very interesting how a child could overcome the stigma of being a part of what is perceived to be the ‘lesser’ race, embraces it and is not at the very least ashamed of it; yet an adult could not. Yes, I agree that his acceptance is due to his ignorance towards the social norms and status that young children are usually shut out from. However, the novel takes a fascinating path when The Ex-Colored Man retains this sense of belongingness even after he has passed his adolescent years.

His decision to attend Atlanta University is an indicator of how much he identifies himself as a black man. He could have attended one of the more prestigious institutions in the North because his mother tells him “…that my father wanted me to go to Harvard or Yale…” [2, p. 47]. Even with some financial strains, I believe it is still possible, especially with the help of the community he grows up in. They have “…patronize(d) a benefit concert” [2, p.50] in order to help him go to college. However, he forgoes the initial plan because after his mother’s death, he feels that there is no more need for him to continue his attachment to the little town in Connecticut where he grows up in. This is both weird and intriguing at the same time because even though he is a part of the community, somehow he does not feel that he truly belongs there. The Ex-Colored Man finds no difficulties at all to “…(bid) farewell to the friends and the scenes of my boyhood and boarded a train for the South” [2, p.51] in order to fulfill his mother life-long wish, which she has told him long before her passing that “…she herself had a half desire for me to go Atlanta University, and even had me write for a catalogue of that school” [2, p.47]. But that decision is not merely about a son fulfilling his dead mother’s wish; instead it would have a deeper implication. Atlanta University, which is founded in 1865…was the country’s oldest graduate institution serving a predominantly African-American student body [3]. Therefore, he would not only be able to dig deep into his Southern roots, but it would also lithify his black identity.
Surprisingly, or perhaps not, life takes a detour. The Ex-Colored Man is left penniless after his money is stolen in a boarding house in Atlanta, preventing him from furthering his studies. He drifts to Jacksonville, where he assumes his black identity without hesitation. Upon arriving in Jacksonville, he says “I walked along listlessly until I met a colored man who had the appearance of a preacher. I asked him if he could direct me to a respectable boarding house for colored people” [2, p.66]. To support himself, The Ex-Colored Man works as a ‘stripper’ in a cigar-making factory. He describes his job as “…pull(ing) the long stems from the tobacco leaves” [2, p.71]. During this period of his life, he fits or slips into the poor living synonymous to the black community with ease. Even if it looks unfortunate, or pathetic for him to fall down so low from his former living conditions, this is a crucial part of The Ex-Colored Man life because it has provided him with the opportunities to immerse himself into the very heart of the black community in the South. By blending in with his kinsmen, The Ex-Colored Man would gain the experience of being black and is able to understand the issues concerning his race. If he were to attend Atlanta University, this chance would be lost on him because by graduating from an academic institution, he would be labeled as the middle class black man. The middle class black community “…is composed of the independent workmen and tradesmen, and of the well-to-do and educated colored people…” [2, p.78]. They are not only removed from the white community because “…the white people somehow feel that the colored people who have education and money, who wear good clothes and live in comfortable houses, are ‘putting on airs,’ that they do these things for the sole purpose of ‘spiting the white folks,’ or are, at best, going through sort of monkey-like imitation” [2, p.80], but they are also removed from their underprivileged kinsmen as “These people live in the world of their own…” [2, p.78-79]. This twist of fate, instead of robbing him from education, has in return educated him about his racial identity through a more practical means; that is by experience. Thus, he is able to ‘feel’ what it is like to be African-American.

I would to quote the definition of self at the beginning of this essay once again. Self is the type of person one is, especially the way one behaves, looks or feels [1, p.1376]. By following The Ex-Colored Man’s life story, I believe that the three elements lay out are all inclusive in defining who a person really is.

Bibliography

[1] Oxford Advanced Learner’s Dictionary. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2005.

[2] Johnson, James Weldon, The Autobiography of an Ex-Colored Man. New York: Hill and Wang, 1960.

[3] “Clark Atlanta University History,” http://www.cau.edu/ Accessed April 3, 2008.