The “N” Word
Use it or Lose It?
NIGGER – No other word in the English language presents such a dilemma to Black people. Popularized in the 18th century as a term used to dehumanize enslaved Africans living in America, the label has survived. Its usage now finds itself as a mainstay in popular culture, especially among Black people. We asked a few members of our community to share their thoughts on the usage of this controversial term.
_________________________
Lemar Johnson
Writer
My first memorable encounter with the N-word dates back to October of 1995. O. J. Simpson was found not guilty in the murders of Nicole Brown Simpson and Ron Goldman.
As a child of a retired police officer, my pediatrician was based at a clinic specifically for police officers, firefighters, and their families in Philadelphia. On this particular day, I just had to have a snack and headed to the vending machines without my mother. There were two older white men watching the trial at the time of O. J.’s acquittal. I’ll never forget hearing the words, “they should have just hung that nigger.” I was 10 years old. These two men were likely retired police officers. Likely under Frank Rizzo, former Mayor of Philadelphia. Google him.
Fast forward to my high school years, “nigga” was dispersed easily and freely among my classmates. This was also a time when we were nodding to Jay-Z’s “Jigga My Nigga.” Different tones and inflections gave even more nuance to the N-word. When it was simply “nigga!,” this was likely a friend greeting another friend. However, if it sounded more like “nig-gahh?” that could imply trouble was brewing. “Nigga” was also fiercely safeguarded from use by “the others.” There was a feeling that this was our currency and it was not for use by white people. Period. Even now, I can appreciate that part.
However, as a quasi-nerdy high school kid, I recognized my many differences from my peers and realized it safe to not delve into that aspect of the culture, especially when the majority of them didn’t think I was Black enough. While it was used as a means of interpersonal connection and linkage to popular music, my not using it likely caused even more distance between myself and my peers, pushing me deeper into my own “I cannot wait until graduation!” isolation.
Now, at 35, depending with whom I’m talking, a “niggaaaa” can fall from my lips easily. I’m aware of its history. I’m aware that the variation containing the “er” has been used to demean people who look like me. While my current use of it is not often easily explained, it’s what’s familiar. When Issa Rae’s character Issa Dee on Insecure let’s out a “nigga” as a way to punctuate a statement, it doesn’t make me feel the way I did in 1995 standing behind those white men calling for the lynching of O.J. It makes me feel like I wanted to feel in high school. Connected. Black enough.
_________________________
Dr. Cleo Manago
Behavioral Health Expert, Chief Advisor – Black Men’s Xchange National
Nigga/Nigger – same word, different accent. It’s like poison in the African-American water supply, causing unnecessary damage to our legacy and behavior. Black on Black conflict, health disparities, economic, and political challenges are symptoms. If “anybody can be a nigga,” then why specifically do the people who had the word beaten into them as slaves for almost 300 years, suffer the most? It’s a preventable and resolvable problem. Stop using the word.
_______________________
Hope Giselle
Writer, LGBTQA+ Activist
Nigga. A term of endearment used by niggas to define other niggas in moments of blackness that perpetuate themselves in all sorts of ways, but what does it really mean and is it truly only offensive when coming from the mouths of white folks no matter the intent, setting, or arrangement made by another nigga? Let’s face it to some degree everyone else either gets a minority pass or “knows better,” so what is it about the word uttered specifically by white folks that triggers such universal outrage? It would seem that we’ve reclaimed a word used to make us feel small without reclaiming our ability to remove the ancestral trauma it leaves behind after it’s uttered.
As a Black woman I think my stance on the word is pretty clear without much interrogation. Simply put the reason white folks using the word under any context is vexing is due in large part to privilege and the systematic oppression endured by Black folks at the hands of white people. People who used the word as a means to create social boundaries, and engage in acts of humiliation with a goal to minimize Black lives similar to the ways that they do now.
The N word isn’t just about racism it’s about silence, arrogance, and the ability to maintain socioeconomic wealth at the expense of Black pain. But if that’s the case then why do we say it to each other? Why do we subscribe to the trauma that we lean away from in our white counterparts? The problem is, we don’t know the pain first hand which prevents us from being able to personalize it in moments that provoke a response. I.e., among folks who you believe to be of like experiences and that is part of the problem. The major problem is that whilst calling out others to refrain from being insensitive to the history of the word (no matter it’s annunciation) we normalize its use, making it easy for white folks to feel like they have a hall pass depending upon circumstance.
The goal should be to educate ourselves and our counterparts on ways to discuss impact vs intent. To have honest dialogue on ways to move beyond using words that cripple one community while enraging another for the sake of the culture. And to move forward with the understanding that reclaiming a word doesn’t take away its history, and adapting to it will not absolve you from being a casualty of a person perceived as a racist.
