And guess what? I tried a lot of awaying with this need for love, too and I couldn’t. It is a much needed love that grows forth from the powerful declaration that “One of feminism’s biggest failures is its failure to insist that feminism is, first and foremost, about truly, deeply, and unapologetically loving women.” Cooper loves us with that Stevie Wonder “love is in need of love today” love that she has sent in right away for the Black feminists out here. Brittney Cooper recognizes this pain and lifts up love for us. I thought of all the things I did to try to deal with the pain of being Black and woman in so many spaces where that means nothingness. I thought of everyone who told me how pretty I was when I dyed my hair blonde and got it blown out on the regular after an ugly divorce left me feeling permanently de-romanced. I thought of every person who had forgotten they had met me before because I wasn’t my modelesque blonde bombshell office mate they all wanted to work with. I thought of all the jobs I decided I wasn’t right for because my nose was too wide and I hadn’t lost enough weight yet. I thought of all the parts I didn’t try out for when I wanted to be part of the high school theater geek squad. It was hard to know that someone so talented and beautiful had also felt erasure and felt like she was not enough. Cooper offered me the chance to celebrate my own single mother, my own not-supposed-to-be-here-ness, and yes, resilience while also acknowledging that the notion of this as exceptional is tired and maybe even a little insulting.Īt every turn of her voice expressing a bold truth like how many times she had to endure the internal homegrown politics of hair and body and beauty clapping against smarts and depth and commitment, I gulped down my own resentments.
Black mothers’ resilience is indeed the stuff of legend but it is also this way because we have endured so many years of myth making about home structures and the demise of the Black community being about who had a baby when and how. Cooper’s account of the literal death defying feats that led her mother to have her and raise her so well are a familiar tone of recognition.
Brittney cooper books how to#
Like SITKL, Eloquent Rage is a compilation of tender moments, personal experiences, and the lucid absolute rejection of oppression right along with any neat or tidy explication of how to defeat it. Turns out it was perfect for my breaks from Brittney’s breaking it all down. This weekend it was Stevie Wonder’s magnificent 1976 gift to the people Songs In The Key of Life. Sometimes, I blast Tina Turner and pretend I have her legs (I don’t…at all…but it’s nice to pretend).
Sometimes I get lost in Reyna Noriega’s work and dream of walking through a gallery of her portraits. Over the past few weeks, I have needed a lot of that. She counted on it to heal so many broken places. My mother loved Black cultures from the stews of Haiti to the rainy jazz festivals of Montreal. She always had such strong words for me to use as antiseptic – balm of a believer in Blackness. Second, I try to remember what my mom told me about pain. Cooper would approve and so would my mom. Whenever I know I have to deal with those pain points, I do a few things for myself. There were times when I actually had to press pause because her words would expose wounds that I had buried deep under years of emotional band-aids and hydrogen peroxide.
Brittney cooper books professional#
Her voice was with me on a bunch of trips, professional development zones, long waits, and social distancing. I picked up momentum during Black History Month and thought that since 2020 is a leap year when we get this beautiful 2/29 bridge into Women’s History Month, I would just keep it going. I have been listening to Brittney Cooper read her book, Eloquent Rage, for weeks now.
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