By Andrea Williams
As a writer, one of the difficulties of owning up to sexuality
or race in literature is that you now need to add another label to what is
already a complex narrative. In the chapter “Black (W)holes and the Geometry of
Black Female Sexuality,” Evelynn Hammonds says that adding the label of “queer”
to her already cumbersome title would bog down her identity even further: “Now
would I be a black, queer, feminist, writer, scientist, historian of science,
and activist?” Where would the labels end? Does defining one’s self take away
from the story that is being told?
She notes that her white lesbian counterparts don’t have to face
these issues. They can write about sexuality without having it layered with
racial complexities. Hammonds also says that finding articles or text on black
female sexuality, as a lesbian, can be challenging. These stories are
different.
In a “Black Man’s Place in Black Feminist Criticism,” Michael
Awkward expresses a similar identity crisis. What’s more, he talks about having
to explain his motivations for being a male feminist. As a male, his literary
writings and criticisms are questioned because of his gender. Then, eventually,
they are respected because he’s a good writer.
