Hokum

Hokum was a funny book to even look at.  At the beginning of the class, we discussed about how 'Humor' is something that has strict ethical boundaries.  It is not intended to judge people, stereotype people and split the people involved in the humor directly or indirectly based on color or religion.  And then we have here, Hokum, that has most of those things that we quite don't want to see, as 'an anthology of african-american humor'.
 
The book by itself has a stereotype on its cover page. It has a half eaten watermelon set in a black background.  Even though some of the blacks might like to be associated with their stereotypes because it talks about their struggles and gives them a sense of oneness, I feel stereotypes tend to heavily close our field of view.  I ask myself, "Do all blacks like watermelons?"
 
Nonetheless, the readings were fun.  They were light, silly and childish. Because of the presence of an authoritative hierarchy, these stories could almost be seen as a teacher-child interaction; where a child lies to his teacher and gets punished for that.
 
The slang however threw me back when I started reading.  The sentence structure was completely different and hard to comprehend until I read it by putting the sentences into context. However, I felt happy to have gotten a valuable insight into old African-American writing styles, even though the English used was weird.
 
The word usage was different too.  'R's in the places of 'S's made it funny and weird to read. I 'warn't' aware that that was allowed. The nouns used to call the characters in the stories were interesting.  I thought the use of 'Cats' for the cotton pickers and 'Queen' for the main character's girl was funny.
 
The story 'On Being Crazy' definitely was my favorite because it spoke a lot about the history of the blacks in the United States.  They were opressed and humiliated but the blacks never retaliated with force, or more like they didn't have the means or power to fight back. My favorite excerpt from the story is

'Walking, I met a wayfarer who immediately walked to the other side of the road where it was muddy. I asked his reasons.
"Niggers is dirty," he said
"So is mud," I said. Moreover I added, I am not as dirty as you- at least not yet'

This made me think further deeper as to how bitter and inhumane discrimination based on color was.

Listed below are two of the lines that I had a good laugh on.

• "With tears in my eyes as big as dill pickles. I couldn't hardly wait to get my pay..." (Himes, 33)
• "Dear Sugar Pie:                                                                                                                       You doesn understand. I aint made dollar the first. Cotton aint what you think. Ifn you got any cotton dresses burn em. ..." (Himes 35)

There is Light at the End of the Tunnel

September 24^th, 2012

The Campus Recreation Center was pretty cold and quiet for a Monday afternoon. It was test week and the exam time cramming didn’t allow many students to run, lift weights or play racquetball. I sat near the climbing wall quietly looking around and aimlessly waiting for Norelly. A number of random things caught my attention - a few young ladies exited the multi-purpose room after their yoga class, a couple of guys recycled the plastic bottles that they had collected and a huge bulky guy took his glass of smoothie with satisfied eyes from the ‘NRG’ store. After waiting for a while, I finally saw Norelly come from her Intensive English Program class. This was only the second time we were meeting but she was really friendly already.

We first chatted a little bit about our weeks. I first told her what I was doing in my Biology research laboratory. She gave an approving smile with every pause of mine.  After a point, I had a feeling that she was nodding just because she had to. But then again, it was silly on my part to explain college level research to Norelly who has her strengths in customer relations. So I forced myself to stop talking about esoteric topics and asked her how her week was. She told me about Venezuela and the upcoming elections there.  Norelly is worried about the outcome of the elections because she knows it is going to be hard to overthrow the incumbency; exactly what she is hoping for. But even with this worry in her head she tells me that whatever happens will happen and that nothing will change by her worrying too much about it. It surprises me how sensible she is.  I could not stop worrying about trivial things such as the Cowboys’ season after Tony Romo’s horrible performance a few days ago but here sits Norelly with a really pragmatic outlook on life. I nod my head and tell myself that there is much to learn from her.  

I then asked her about her family. She tells me that everyone is doing well. I then remember that Norelly spoke to me with a little more detail the last time about her daughter Amanda. So I ask her again about her daughter. Norelly tells me about how she suddenly felt bad about not spending enough time with Amanda. So one day, Norelly took Amanda to the store and bought Amanda a pair of rollerblades as she wanted one for a long time. Norelly then sat outside her house and saw Amanda skate in their street every day. Then one day, Amanda came up to Norelly and told her that she wanted to skate together with her. So Norelly bought herself a pair of rollerblades and the both of them set out on an adventure to find a rollerblading rink to take lessons together. Norelly and Amanda then found a rink near the airport to learn. They now visit the rink every Saturday to learn. Norelly is really happy about the fact that this activity is giving her the opportunity to be there for her daughter and spend some quality time with her.

Our conversation is then interrupted by this loud guy talking in Spanish; or so I think it was. And the next thing I notice is Norelly’s loud laughter.  I am sitting there awkwardly waiting for Norelly to finish laughing because I didn’t understand the joke that guy cracked in Spanish. When she finally finished laughing, I gave her a sheepish smile and asked her to explain the joke to me but instead she asks me back coolly, “What joke?” Utterly confused, I ask her why she laughed and she told me she laughed at the guy’s Spanish accent. She thinks everyone in the United States speaks Spanish in the funniest accent there is. Accepted, accents definitely are a major facet of humor and she was right on.  But her lips straightened out immediately as she spoke. She then told me Americans probably feel the same way about the accent with which she speaks English. I explained to her that accents are unique to a culture and it is okay to have an accent as it also acts as an identity for a culture group. She nodded and partially accepted my logic for the existence of accents. It was a really awkward moment for me because I come from India; a part of the world which is stereotyped worldwide for its thick distinct accent.

We then spoke about a couple of other things and also scheduled our next meeting date.  Norelly then looked at her watch and reminded me that she had to be elsewhere in a few minutes.  I apologized for not realizing what time it was.  She smiled and told me it was okay.  We then gave each other a firm handshake and walked away.  When I walked back to my residence hall which was right across the Recreation Center, I stopped a minute to see the problems I had in a new way; the way Norelly looks at her problems.  There was now light at the end of the tunnel.