Breaking Language: The Legacy of the Civil Rights Movement in LiteratureMain MenuIntroduction: How was the Civil Rights Movement fought in language?Pre-Civil Rights Era Uses of Language: Epistemic Violence and Legal RestrictionsJames Brown, "Too Funky in Here" (1979)Builder Levy, I AM a Man (1968)Builder Levy, I Am a Man/Union Justice Now, Memphis, TN, 1968. From the series Civil Rights and Peace. Gelatin Silver print
13 1/16 × 8 13/16. artsy.net.Builder Levy, Harlem Peace March 1967Builder Levy, Anti-War ProtestBuilder Levy, Harlem Peace March to End Racial Oppression, April 27, 1967. The statement "No black man ever called me chink: support the black struggle for existence" was taken from boxer/activist Muhammad Ali's original statement about his refusal to participate in the Vietnam War, "Ain't no Vietcong ever called me nigger." Amitage Digital Resources, Columbia University.Dykes on Bikes: Headlining SF Pride Parade since 1977Malcolm X's Repudiation of a Slave NameMalcolm X: Language Play and Caustic IronyAudre Lorde: "You cannot dismantle the master's house with the master's tools" (1984)Adrienne Rich "Diving into the Wreck" (1973)James Baldwin: Deconstructing the Language of RacismConclusion: Language as a Medium for Activism and LiberationCreative Commons LicenseResourcestest of radial viewvisualization of contentCathy Kroll0c0427ebd621fb54b22b23c07748d7202fcfe9c8
James Baldwin and Marlon Brando
12016-11-08T08:16:02-08:00Cathy Kroll0c0427ebd621fb54b22b23c07748d7202fcfe9c898661James Baldwin and Marlon Brando. Civil Rights March on Washington, 1963. U. S. Information Agency. Public Domain. Wikimedia Commons.plain2016-11-08T08:16:02-08:00Cathy Kroll0c0427ebd621fb54b22b23c07748d7202fcfe9c8
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12016-11-06T15:50:15-08:00James Baldwin: Deconstructing the Language of Racism16plain2017-04-16T00:24:44-07:00Use language to deconstruct attempts to invoke what has been traditionally seen as "right" (segregation of the 'races'), but which is revealed as wrong: In his 1968 novel Tell Me How Long the Train's Been Gone, Baldwin tells the story of Leo, a young, black, gay actor trying to make it big. Baldwin writes a scene in which the actor stops in at a diner in New Jersey while attending a summer acting workshop; he's there to pick up some hamburgers for the acting troupe. The mood is tense, and Leo can feel he's unwelcome. Baldwin's writing is economical and efficient: he doesn't need to reveal more than the few sentences exchanged between the racist men looking askance at Leo and angrily blurting out to his friend:
"I don't care," one of them said, "right is right."
"Don't get yourself upset, Bill," one of them said.
"It ain't worth it," one of them said. (140)
Restraining himself from any explicit commentary here, Baldwin just lets these men betray their ignorance. He exposes these men who try to cloak their racism in traditional ethics of what is "right." He shows how discrimination can "hide out" in the language of "what is right," and thus how language (here, a flimsy appeal to an unethical ethics) has continued to be used to prop up racism. As readers, we are made decidedly uncomfortable seeing this man justify discrimination by appealing to its long history as something that was "right" in America.