I Couldn't Help But Wonder...
A Black Eyed Review of Carrie Bradshaw
won’t you celebrate with me
what i have shaped into
a kind of life? i had no model.
born in babylon
both nonwhite and woman
what did i see to be except myself?
i made it up
here on this bridge between
starshine and clay,
my one hand holding tight
my other hand; come celebrate
with me that everyday
something has tried to kill me
and has failed.
won’t you celebrate with me by Lucille Clifton
“I am not the candidate of Black America, although I am Black and proud; I am not the candidate of the women's movement of this country, although I am a woman and I am equally proud of that. I am the candidate of the people of America. And my presence before you now symbolizes a new era in American political history.”
Shirley Chisholm – Presidential Announcement Speech, 1972
Find an audio reading of this Black Eyed Anecdote above.
Carrie Bradshaw doesn’t have any Black friends. Be patient with me, I promise, there’s a point if you let me take you to it.
Carrie Bradshaw doesn’t have any Black friends, and though it’s not her fault, it’s one hundred percent her responsibility as it is yours and mine to take up the task to make room for others at our tables. In a country obsessed with borders, this is hard (but surely not impossible) work.
It shouldn’t be impossible for Carrie to have a Black friend. I mean, you have to admit, Carrie’s pretty fly to be a White girl despite her penchant for basic White dudes. She’s not purposely racially homogenous – she’s just written that way. You can’t deny there’s a swagger there, much like the swagger of many a Black girl who also know how to “merchandise it up… style it up with some shoes,” because that’s what their mothers, their aunties, their grandmama’s taught them to do.