Lisa Hacker

October 5, 2012

Web Review

Moreau, Jones, and Lynch-Masterson and Their Thoughts on Sexual Repression of the African-American Woman

I came into the web review portion of this assignment with the intent to focus my reviews on student essays that had similar themes: the sexual abuse and loss of sexual identity of African-American females as double minorities. This is the direction I am going in both my midterm essay and my final project, and I wanted to see what my fellow students had been writing on this theme. What I found, for the most part, was an interesting mix of facts and opinions that both vindicated my existing opinions and also expanded the depths of my understanding.

In Sara Moreau's essay "A Right to Choose", she focuses on the black woman as a double minority, not having the ability to make life decisions that have the potential to bring significance and happiness. Moreau compares the narrative of former slave Harriet Jacobs along with Toni Morrison's First Corinthians Dead and Sapphire's Precious Jones. All three of these women, Moreau writes, "...went through many trials and sufferings with no choice in how their lives were lived, but each of them ended up finding some strength or some person that enabled them to gain a voice and change their life for the better."

I can't speak on Precious, but looking back on both Harriet and Corinthians, I have to say that I disagree with Moreau's assertion that these women had "no choice in how their lives were lived." I know the direction Sara is going here, and this thesis will get her there, but I think it would be better clarified to say that these women found their choices cruelly and severely limited. Looking at both of their stories, we certainly see times when each one of them did make a choice: They each made a choice to take a lover. We could certainly argue the pressure that went into those individual choices, but they do represent a choice, nonetheless, in comparison to the forcible child rape experienced by Precious.

Sara makes great correlations in the lives of these three women, detailing the cruelty of the choices that were made and the consequences they had for each, which sometimes brought them closer to that happiness they sought, but sometimes not.

 For Harriet, we do see that her choices brought her further from the abusive Dr. Flint, affording the young slave girl some modicum of reprieve and putting into motion a series of events that would eventually bring her and her children closer to freedom. "Desperate to keep herself from the shameful fate of bearing children for her master, Jacobs took a dangerous risk and slept with a friendly, kind white man that was willing to help her...being impregnated by a man she knew would fight to have his children freed was much more tolerable than having her master's children..."

For Corinthians, the lack of moral support from her family and the disappointment of the job market severely limited the direction that her life could take. "She led a very mundane existence...Corinthians had no love in her home and nothing to look forward to except finding a husband so she might escape from this life she was trapped in." Sara draws a great comparison between Harriet and Corinthians by making this point, as it is clear that both women seek salvation from men.

Although I have not read the Sapphire novel, it is clear from Sara's writing that this character also shares much with both Harriet and Corinthians. After suffering sexual and physical abuse from both parents, Precious is able to get away, with the help of a teacher who taught her to read and write (at the age of 16), find courage and strength, and even seek help in an incest survivor's group.

Sara ties it up well by noting that in the end, by taking advantage of the few choices they did have, each woman was able to "break her chains of oppression and take charge of her own life," even if it wasn't to the degree that most women are able.

While agreeing with the issues that Sara highlights, Jennifer Jones takes the conversation a step further in her essay "As the Pendulum Swings: The Victimization of African-American Women." While highlighting some of the same issues that Sara brings forward in her essay, Jones also points out the fact that "What is perhaps not well known is just how often African-Americans penalize, alienate, and victimize themselves."

Jennifer brings up many issues in her essay, but the ones that I want to focus on center on the idea of the African-American woman being victimized by the men in her life. Jennifer finds a compelling example in Celie, Alice Walker's main character in the novel The Color Purple.

Celie is a woman who finds herself in a continual pattern of abuse at the hands of the men in her life. First, she is raped and abused by her father. Later, her father marries her off to a man who also abuses her sexually and physically.

But the greatest injustice comes when Celie, given the opportunity to correct her step-son in his attitudes towards his independent-minded wife, tells the young man that he should beat her into submission.

Why, Jennifer asks, would a woman who has suffered from abuse herself take any part in the abuse of another woman? Why would she not protect the other woman?

Jennifer's answer is bold. "Why would she put her suffering on another woman? She does it for the same reason the white woman verbally abuses the suffering young slave (Harriet)...She's jealous."

I'm not sure that I agree completely with Jennifer in that. I'm not sure if Celie's directive comes from a place of jealousy, or fear, or perhaps simple weakness. But the fact is that once again, the African-American woman is the victim of abuse, and from a disappointing and unexpected source: her husband.

Jennifer questions why these African-American men would dare to treat their women in this way, coming out of a shared history of slavery. Why have they not learned to be better? The answer to that is probably too complex to tackle here, but it is definitely an issue, as Sara touched on it with her essay in the example of Precious, and Danielle Lynch-Masterson picks it up, also, in hers.

Danielle focuses her discussion more closely in the direction that I envision for my own essay with her  "Sexual Oppression within Double Minorities in African American Literature." Danielle makes several points that I believe will help to build upon my own essay, starting out by highlighting the reality that "Fitting a woman into an already minority role will naturally introduce domination that is sexual in nature." To expand on what I believe she is saying here, I would add that a woman who is already in the position of being dominated by her "inferior" race unfairly finds herself further victimized as the "weaker" of the two sexes of her race. Even today, women are not treated equal to their male counterparts in many areas. The natural domination of the male seems to transcend most racial and historical contexts. So, for the African-American woman slave, the addition of sexual abuse and domination was simply one more layer of oppression that her "weaker" sex made possible.

Danielle points out the authority that Dr. Flint had over Harriet was several layers thick. He had the authority of an older man over a young, teenager girl. He also had the authority of ownership, being the father of the woman who owned Harriet. And finally, there was the sexual authority that he had as a man, in the preceding positions of authority. That sexual authority became more powerful in the context of age and ownership.

Danielle makes a very interesting case of sexual oppression with her analysis of Ruth Dead in Song of Solomon. Danielle notes the power that Ruth's husband has in withholding sexual relations with her. In contract to being pressured into unwanted sex, Danielle brings us a character whose happiness is being diminished by her partner's cruel withholding of sex in the relationship.

But just as Harriet eventually was able to make a choice that brought her some level of control in her sexual identify, Ruth, also, is able to reclaim that sexual relationship, even if it is only for a short period of time. With the help of her ostracized sister-in-law Pilate, Ruth is able to draw her husband back just long enough to become pregnant. But her victory is short-lived, as her husband comes to suspect something afoul and not only pulls back from Ruth once more, but also finds another way to oppress her sexuality by accusing her of an unnatural sexual relationship with her father, "...in an effort to further marginalize Ruth sexually and alienate her emotionally."

I appreciate Danielle's bringing of an alternative form of oppression into the spotlight, because her essay makes the point that it is not just in slavery that the African-American woman has been victimized, as we clearly see with Ruth. She asserts this point further with her analysis of Precious, seeing her as a woman who has also been victimized by her family. Most specifically, and setting this character apart from the others Danielle introduces, is the fact that Precious is physically, emotionally, and sexually abused by her mother.

 And this is where Danielle's digging goes even deeper, uncovering the truth that "As a double minority, many times you are oppressed by your own: that is, another double minority."

Which brings us around to Jennifer's concluding statement, which I believe brings the discussion of these three essays full circle and leaves us with a new beginning and proves that this issue, which began with the treatment of female slaves, has continued to play out in the lives of contemporary literary characters and women: "As a double minority group African-American women have many struggles they must face and overcome in order to find their "dream". In their initial relationship with the dominant culture they were placed into a role of sexual objectification; however, sexual objectification of African-American women has continued as a common struggle that is still being faced today."

One of the things that stands out to me in reading these essays is the way that sexual abuse morphs into variant forms for the African-American woman as a double minority. Just when it seems she is safe from it in one corner of her world, it emerges in another with sharper claws and a stronger grip. I especially found new revelations in Jennifer and Danielle's essays, which brought with them the issues of the troubling continuation of abuse by African-American men towards their women in a post-slavery culture, and the equally disturbing issue of double minorities inflicting abuse upon each other, reflected in the novel Precious. I wish that our class could have read this, also, because I can see how it would have brought us to an entirely different level of discussion.

I plan to pick up this conversation, in a related thread for my essay, by looking at the double-edged sword of sexuality for African-American women in our class readings.

Essay

"Identity and Freedom: The Double Minority's Double-Edged Sword in

African-American Literature"

The oppression of black women as double minorities has been a consistent theme in African-American literature. From the slave narratives to the more contemporary novels, we find women whose victimization and oppression transcends the color of their skin and includes their sexual identities and choices. For these women, being black isn't as bad as it gets. Being black and female is like a sucker punch when your back is turned, your eyes are closed, and your hands are tied behind your head.

In their vulnerability, African-American women find themselves in a unique position: using the sexuality that defines them as a double minority as a weapon against their oppressors. In this irony, we can see sexuality as the double minority's double-edged sword, both defending them in their oppression but also further oppressing them by forcing them to use their sexuality as a weapon at all.

Our first example of this is seen in Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl, by Harriet Jacobs. For Jacobs, life as a slave brings the expected subjugation of imprisonment, forced labor, isolation from family and lack of true identity. But as a woman, Jacobs' minority status is doubled, compounded, made even more precarious by her sexuality as she is vulnerable to emotional abuse and sexual harassment by her owner's father, Dr. Flint.

At the age of 15, Jacobs finds herself being sexually pursued by Dr. Flint. As a slave, she knows that she has no choice in her sexuality. If he chooses to take her, he will do it with no regard to her rebuttals, her age, or her heart. "But where could I turn for protection? No matter whether the slave girl be as black as ebony or as fair as her mistress. In either case, there is no shadow of law to protect her from insult, from violence, or even from death; all these are inflicted by fiends who bear the shape of men."

Jacobs laments over the possibilities. She does everything in her power to avoid Dr. Flint and the foul words he has been whispering in her ear. She recognizes the immorality of what he is planning, but also her lack of power. "I turned from him with disgust and hatred. But he was my master. He told me I was his property; that I must be subject to his will in all things."

While managing to keep Dr. Flint at bay temporarily, Jacobs falls in love with another black man. He is a free man, but he is not free to love her, or she him. And when Dr. Flint sabotages her hopeful relationship with the man she does love, Jacobs is forced to act to protect herself.

Knowing that she is the one without conventional forms of power  such as law, and tangible forms of power  such as physical strength, Jacobs succumbs to the use of the only power she has: her sexuality. In order to defend and protect her sexuality, defend and protect her ability to choose, she must give herself to another suitor in a loveless  but highly calculated strategy to keep Dr. Flint away. She must sacrifice what she values most in order to preserve it. By taking another lover, she has a small victory against Dr. Flint, but a major defeat in the preservation of her true sexual identity and desires.

In Toni Morrison's Song of Solomon, we find more African-American women who are forced to use their sexuality in similar fashion. For Ruth Dead, the wife of Macon Dead, sexuality is used against her as an act of punishment and cruelty...by her own husband.

After giving birth to two daughters, Ruth's husband begins to ignore her sexual desires as a woman. "I would have died happily except for my babies. But he did move into another room and that's the way things stayed until I couldn't stand it anymore. Until I thought I'd really die if I had to live that way. With nobody touching me, or even looking as though they'd like to touch me...I think I was just afraid I'd die that way."

After ten years of sexual neglect from her husband, Ruth found help from her sister-in-law Pilate, whose cryptic potion of "greenish-gray grassy-looking stuff" stirred Macon's desire for four days. It wasn't long, but it was enough for Ruth to conceive a child, a son to carry on the Dead name and to serve as a weak substitute for the affection she craved from her husband.

The only thing worse than knowing that your husband doesn't want you is knowing that he's coming to you anyway, whether it be from a sense of duty or from the mischief of Pilate's spell. There was no true sexual satisfaction for Ruth in having to manipulate her husband's sexual desire. The four days of coerced sex gave Ruth a son, Milkman, who would later be teased for nursing at her breast beyond his infant years, and would grow into a man who seemed to care almost as little for her as her own husband.

There was no real sexual satisfaction in the remainder of their relationship as Macon continued to use sexual deprivation as one of many tools to isolate his wife. For Ruth, the double edged sword of sexuality brought her a temporary satisfaction, but then it lost its power and returned her back to a place of loneliness which, presumably, hurt even more after the brief respite. And knowing that he had been manipulated served only to bring a fresh sense of wrath against Ruth from the indignant, irate Macon.

Another victim of the double-edged sword was Hagar, Pilate's granddaughter and Milkman's lover. "She was considered his private honey-pot, not a real or legitimate girlfriend-not someone he might marry." Hagar began the relationship with Milkman with the proverbial upper-hand. As the older woman, her sexuality was like the call of the Muse to Milkman's boy-ears. She used her sexuality to lure him to her bed, and in the beginning, she did not seem to take the relationship very seriously. The sex was all she wanted and needed.

But unfortunately for Hagar, sex has a way of changing the woman's heart. She thought she was using her sexual freedom to get what she wanted, a fling, a good time. But she did not anticipate falling in love and becoming obsessed with her younger lover.

The sexual freedom and identity that Harriet did not have, that Ruth lost and craved, became a gauzy veil through which Hagar thought she saw true love. Behind that veil, she imagined a Milkman who loved her and would commit only to her.

However, Hagar had a way of not seeing things the way they really were. Her inability to force Milkman to commit to her, to love her, to give in to her sexual power and become the partner she wanted left her mind in a place of unreason and unrest. It drove her to a cycle of physical attacks against Milkman. During these attacks, she would come after him with a powerful vengeance, intent on killing him. Yet she was never able to go through with it.

I find it interesting to note that Hagar's attacks against Milkman came at a regular interval, once a month, month after month, as if they followed the clock of her female body as hormones surged and depleted, surged and depleted, surged and depleted. Perhaps there was more than coincidence to the timing. Perhaps, in the ultimate betrayal of her sexuality, it was her own hormonal cycle that defined her as a woman that brought her to the place of uncontrollable rage at her inability to be the only woman Milkman wanted.

While that could certainly be debated, what is beyond debate is the fact that these three women all found themselves unable to claim their sexual identities because of their double minority status as women. The slave found herself further oppressed as she was pressed beneath the multiple layers of authority that her master exerted over her as a woman. And while Ruth and Hagar did not suffer directly under the terrors of slavery, they still existed as double minorities by virtue of their sexual gender, which further ignored their voices and choices as the men in their lives exerted a level of authority over them that compounded their racial inequalities.

I see all three of these women in Langston Hughes' Dream Deferred.

Harriet's dream is the dream that dries up like a raisin in the sun. It is minimalized further and further as she makes choices that represent compromises, until all that is left of that original dream is a tiny, black speck.

Ruth's dream festered like a sore as she shrank in the shadow of Macon's manipulative deprivation. And after Milkman's birth, that dream crusted and sugared over as the pain was concealed once again and she attempted to put on the best face that she could.

And finally, Hagar's dream. That is the easiest one. As she stood in the mirror and saw the makeup-caked face and the smudged clothes, seeing herself for a fraction of a second in her Milkman-induced delusion, she exploded.

In the end, we find that all three of these women found themselves in that place of smallness that Ruth spoke of, the place of smallness that comes from being pressed down. And in this place of smallness, where no one wants to be robbed of their innocence, no one wants to be ignored, and no one wants to be the tasteless third beer, the double-edged sword of sexuality can provide freedom in one instant, but further oppression in the next.

Works Cited

Brent, Linda, Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl

Boston, 1861

Hughes, Langston, Dream Deferred

Morrison, T., The Song of Solomon

First Plum Printing: New York, 1987

Research Plan

Harriet Jacobs Narrative Poem/Creative Writing Project

For my final project, I am going to create a narrative poem based on Harriet Jacobs' Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl. While it will be impossible to reflect the entire narrative in the poem, I plan to focus on the struggles that Harriet faced as she deals with the sexual oppression of her master, Dr. Flint, and her self-reflection on the choices she made in the heat of that oppression. One option I am considering at this point is having Harriet do a reflective "what if?" type of narrative that explores her own questions about whether she made the right decisions, and what could the possibilities have been if she had made different decisions.

As part of my research for this poem, I am going to re-read the original narrative in its entirety. I'm also going to look at other Jacobs writings, including some of her family papers, and possibly a play that was written by Lydia R. Diamond titled Harriet Jacobs: A Play.

Using these supplemental readings, I will add to the image of Harriet as I see her in the original narrative. While doing my best to maintain the integrity of her original experience, I also want to expand on it in with integrity, relying as best I can on the biographical and literary evidence we have.

I also plan to combine this poem and research to create a proposal and presentation for the student conference in the spring.