I learned in a literature class that Ralph Ellison hated being considered an "African American" novelist. And there he is, front and center in the colored section. I think of the opening scenes Invisible Man: the unnamed main character fights in a "battle royal," in which he and a bunch of other young, black men fight blindfolded in the center of a boxing ring for the amusement of white people.
|Took this in downtown Canton with the fancy new DSLR and|
I'm pretty darn proud of it.
I can be a little militant about this stuff. About women and minorities and gay people not getting a fair shake, and I can't say I'm sure why. What's it to me, really? And more importantly, why do I continue to shop at Borders? The second question is easy: I live in Canton. And Jeremy and I are so nerdy that a trip to Borders is date night.
The first question? I don't know. I guess I've always been a bit of an outsider, for better or worse. I've been the white one, the liberal one, the one with the mental illness. Not that that's a bad thing, not that people have always treated me badly because of it. Just, I know what it feels like to feel like an Other, when all I am is me. That sounds maudlin. I guess I'm saying I can be hyper-conscious of wanting everyone to have a seat at the table. And that's better than the opposite extreme, I think.
Also, Borders should probably reconsider having the Gender Studies books directly above the bondage erotica. Not that I think bondage is anti-feminist, just that for a minute I thought that Couldn't Keep It to Myself: Wally Lamb and the Women of York Correctional Institution was some kind of prison fetish novel, and I was rather shocked to find Wally Lamb writing prison fetish novels.