Niggatopia

DISCLAIMER (if I could make it blink, I would): The words being discussed here are often used in an inflammatory manner. Parental discretion is advised.



“You only a nigga because someone else wants you to be” ~Cee-Lo, “The Experience”

This past week I participated in a spirited forum entitled “Speak My Language.” In the company of great panelists, we attempted to navigate and direct the conversation into the black man’s “No man’s land” – the “N” word. Abandon all hope he or she who enters.

But seriously, the traumatic and often problematic existence of the term “nigger” has evolved into the term of endearment (?) “nigga.” While it’s an unspoken understanding that the “-er” version is embedded in a racist and painful discourse, the       “-ga” alternative is arguably bankrupt of racial insensitivity by those who use it. And it’s slowly leaving the circles of black America and seeping into the cracks of mainstream American society.

This begs the question: where does the nigga lie?

Let that Nigga Breathe: Space, Place, and "Nigga" Performance

If “nigga” is not a derogatory term, what exactly does it mean? Davarian Baldwin suggests that “Nigga” is a performance persona acted out by the “othered” body. By contextualizing this term through a non-racialized lens, one possible meaning of Nigga is a reference to any marginalized group of people(s).

For many, there are no differences or justifications for the term “nigga” because it is the stepchild of the forbidden “N-word.” That was especially visible in the NAACP’s efforts to give it a funeral. Our critical and leisurely lens of “nigga” or “nigger” often pulls from racial and gendered experiences. What, exactly, does a nigga look like? And where does he or she reside? In relation to gender, one aspect of today’s “nigga” represents a fetishized understanding of black hypermasculinity. There are often parallels drawn from the folkloric “Bad nigger” of slave discourse and the gangsta/thug nigga image from rap music during the Gangsta era and today. What separates the two is that the latter is a celebrated and often mimicked representation of black manhood where the former is a survival technique. R.A.T. Judy argues that the “bad nigger” slave is a frightening commodity that does not fear death but “embraces death...which indicates self-sovereignty.” The suggestion that a nigga represents a commodified body demonstrates both the contextualization of the enslaved black body as chattel and the contemporary selling of black bodies through rap music (both performers and video vixens). With this understanding it would be appropriate to place a nigga in a hood setting – whether imagined or actual. In a similar fashion to the nigga, the hood still represents for many an authenticated black experience. The “realness” that outlines expectations surrounding the hood community both marginalize and displaces this space in American society. By rebelling against any standard of blackness set by someone other than themselves, the nigga is the baddest thing (pun intended) walking. Why wouldn’t someone want to be referred to as such?

With all of the latest references to a multicultural nigga – wiggas, jiggas, and all those folks in between – why is it still a sore spot for black folks to hear it outside of the African American community? I don’t have an answer. One way to possibly approach this question is the push for Americans to be racially blind. That is, race isn’t as significant a factor in society’s functionality as in previous years. This notion is further pushed onto our laps by President Obama’s “Yes we (all) can” creed. But let’s keep it 100 folks. If everyone was all Kum Ba Yah, “Nigger” wouldn’t need a funeral and Niggas wouldn’t matter. Commentators wouldn’t say “I forgot the President was Black.” Race is still very much existent in America. To ignore this blatant fact is not only detrimental to a racially tolerant society, but also a hindrance to healing and progressing in interracial relationships. Now that’s gangsta.