We demonize the feminine and its sibling marginalizations at our peril, especially when much of what’s coded feminine in this iteration of society and urbanism are the things we all have to do and make to even survive as Earthlings.
This is The Black Urbanist Weekly with Kristen Jeffers, an email newsletter that highlights the Black Queer Feminist Urbanist thoughts and commentary of me, Kristen E. Jeffers, an internationally-known urban planner, fiber designer, and contributing editor. Think of this as an editorial page column, but directly in your email.
Let’s get started with a few words of reflection from me, then my weekly section on my Black queer feminist urbanist principles, “The Principle Corner”, then By the Way where I highlight articles and projects I had a hand in externally.; On the Shelf, On the Playlist where I share book and music recommendations, and finally Before You Go, where I share any ads and announcements if I have them and ways to support this work financially and externally.
I feel that being a Feminist is more fraught than being Black, Queer or Urbanist, especially when you put all four words together.
Yes, Black and queer can get me killed outside of home. Urbanism debates what kind of home that is. Feminist can get me killed for all three even if the first three don’t succeed.
Of course, this assumes that I have a home and an exterior community that embraces me being Black and queer. Yet, there’s this rub, based on my feminine presentation on what I can and can’t do, even though I have a place of belonging, in both Black and queer communities.
It’s also two rubs, that femininity isn’t mine as a Black woman or femininity is a colonial construct or femininity is weak or stupid or dumb or crazy.
Hello ableism and misogynoir and classism and colorism!
Today, I declare to you that my femininity and feminism is none of these things.
I also release the expectations of all these isms and titles.
I call for unity, the kind that doesn’t require me to be extra clothed or extra tough walking the streets.
The kind that says my textile talents are a backbone of our village creation, not a burden of my appearance and supposed brain capacity.
The kind that releases the chains of enslavement, because I’m supposed to be extra strong or wise, but only worthy of exploitation!
I’m breaking through that kitchen picture window.
I’m coming off the mannequin podium and from behind the makeup counter
I’m dressed up and made up and I’m taking it to the streets.
And claiming my corner, with the fruits of the field I cultivate at the end of the rail line.
I’m roaring, but I choose to roar. I’m roaring because roaring is my birthright.
The Principle Corner
Each week, I’m taking a moment to share how I’ve been building the Black Queer Feminist Urbanist practice and ethic, so we can approach this work from a similar starting point. This week, I wanted to highlight my working feminist definition.
So how do I define feminist in my practice statement?
A person and a movement that honor genders marginalized under patriarchy, traditionally those tagged as feminine or outside traditional gender binaries.
Did you notice I say nothing about who is a woman or not? Notice that I don’t include hair length and texture, adornments, mannerisms, smells, vocal quality, or really anything bodily.
I take it back to what creates this distinction in the first place and that is patriarchy. Outside of patriarchy, which yes, this is something we have zoomed back pretty far in human history to find, especially if we are thinking about the last 300-500 years of many civilizations, any gender can reproduce and yes, more than one gender can and does exist in the human species and has for years.
It does not diminish us to function more like our fellow animal creatures. If anything, it may be their advantage that so many are not pressed about gender and yes, some even change their sexual roles, with the aid of other members of the species.
Just like we have to walk away from skin color marginalization, we have to do the same with other body parts and functions.
We have to stop creating and building environments that are abelist and sexist for all, not just for certain preferred body characteristics.
And yes, we can still celebrate our diversity and rejoice and share with each other.
By the Way
Here’s where I share other articles/videos that were noteworthy for me this week in this section. Apologies in advance for things behind a paywall. Some things I subscribe to and others I grab just before the wall comes down on me. I will start marking these articles and describing them.
Kate Wagner always writes things that make us uncomfortable about our architecture and this piece is probably the best I’ve read of hers, where we get into why we shouldn’t be doing architecture just for the money and in ways that destabilize the globe, both its resources and people.
I’m striving as I do my work to not encourage folks to collect Black leaders like baseball cards, but integrate and affirm our humanity as Black/African folks. Really appreciate Karen Attiah’s note this morning on her thoughts on how we approach Black History Month and how we’ve left so many leaders to die or dwell in squalor.
On the Shelf, On the Playlist
I finally streamed the entire SZA album. I will say that this is absolutely a night/low mood album and to prepare your ears accordingly. Plus, Danyel Smith is always a gift in giving us a mood and a means for reading and affirming our Black woman musical geniuses.
However, as I include a gift link to the New York Times, I do want to announce again here that as of March 12, in solidarity and to push forward the dismantlement of this idea of a “paper of record” that can do no wrong, even when it consistently dehumanizes non-white, queer, trans, and even poor folks, I am letting my New York Times subscription lapse. Here are the tweets from when I made this decision. If I consume the paper in the future, it will be through library access and even then, I will be featuring writers who I know support trans and nonbinary rights, along with Black liberation and disabled pride.
On the book side, I’ll be reading this essay collection on Edna Lewis, the Black woman who is not lauded enough as the creator of the concept of serving restaurant food directly from the farm to the table and for lifting up the cuisine many of her ancestors created as enslaved people into a highly regarded cuisine.
Before You Go
This is our last section, where we normally have advertisements for others, but I also advertise things that I’m doing that are for sale or for hire.
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Once again, if you want me to show up as I did above on your panel or for a keynote, book a complimentary consultation call. I still have open availability for 2023 and 2024.
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Also, you can still advertise in this newsletter, although no one chose to this week! Rates start at $75 a week for a four-week commitment and $150 for just one week.
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I have created a special landing page, www.theblackurbanist.com/books, that’s not only a home for my upcoming volume, A Black Urbanist Journey to a Queer Feminist Future, but all those books in the Black Queer Feminist Urbanist canon.
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if you want to send me money for quick expenses or like a tip jar, you can Venmo me. If you become a Patreon, you get detailed reporting on my progress as we shift operations into both a for-profit and non-profit model, along with a special thank you note each week! The GoFundMe is still alive if you want to make large donations quickly and you can subscribe on Substack, but know that nothing in this newsletter is going behind paywall, this is considered a love offering
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And if you want to support my textile and fiber work, head over to www.kristpattern.com.
Until next time,
Kristen