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Claudia RankineA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
Rankine is at yet another dinner party when a woman, who is an instructor, asks what she ought to tell her Black women students who dye their hair blond. Everyone else at the table also waits for Rankine’s answer. Rankine wonders if dying their natural hair matters as much as “safeguarding […] their sense of agency and freedom” (254). The woman goes silent. Just when Rankine thinks that she wants to try to answer the question again, someone turns their gaze toward dessert.
Rankine knows that blond hair doesn’t really signify white purity, as anyone, including Black and Asian people, can adopt the hair color and still not become white. The hair color doesn’t even need to indicate a human being. She wonders if the students’ blond hair is a defiance of white supremacist beauty ideals. On the other hand, they may be playing “a zero-sum game” that makes them complicit with those standards by dyeing their hair (255). Rankine decides to ask the professor what Frantz Fanon would say about her students’ choice. The woman laughs. Is their hair coloring choice a form of “reverse appropriation with all its artificiality and performativity?” (256). Do Black women who dye their hair blond believe that this choice allows them to be seen for the first time as youthful and beautiful, even as human?
Rankine mentions Fanon to signal that she understands the professor’s concern that the hair color choice might be a manifestation of internalized racial hatred. She also tells the professor that it’s important for the students to do as they please until they are mature enough to develop standards for themselves. Another woman at the table says that she wears high heels, though they hurt her. If high heels are a sign of aspirational femininity, is blondness a form of aspirational whiteness, like skin bleaching?
Rankine is still thinking about the professor’s dinner party question while she is waiting for a friend in an art gallery. She counts numerous women around her who have various shades of blond hair. By the time her friend arrives, Rankine has counted a dozen blond women. Her companion tells her that his hair stylist once said that many of the stylist’s clients go blond for their weddings. They then return to their natural color after the wedding.
Blond hair has been associated with the apotheosis of female beauty and prostitution. It has always been regarded as a rare feature. The Black woman professor equates blondness with whiteness, but do white people?
According to a study, two percent of the world’s population and five percent of American white people have blond hair. However, 35 percent of American female senators and 48 percent of American CEOs at major companies are blond. University presidents who are women are also likelier to be blond. Another study found that male CEOs are likelier to be married to blondes. This latter study also determined that, because blond hair is “only natural to Whites and tends to go brown after childhood,” the preference for blond women in leadership is both racist and sexist (261). This preference suggests that these women’s blondness makes them seem less threatening to the predominant power.
Rankine enters the word “blonds” into a search engine. Marilyn Monroe, who personified “the empty-headed blond,” comes up (264). Outside, on the street, she sees a woman and her child. Neither the woman nor the child are blond, but the child holds a doll in her hand that “has long blond hair” (264). This doll, seemingly a Barbie, is based on the “Bild Lili” dolls, based on a popular bawdy cartoon, that were popular in West Germany. Mattel bought the reproduction rights to reproduce Bild Lili’s image.
Rankine wonders if white women who are bleaching their hair are “whitening their whiteness” and “erasing their ethnicity” (265). She also wonders if some women dye their hair blond to become more acceptable. Hillary Clinton was once a brunette. She became blond after becoming the first lady of Arkansas. She has kept the color, but she allowed her natural gray hair to grow out after she lost the 2016 election. Rankine suggests that Ellen DeGeneres needed to become blond for her queerness to become acceptable to mainstream Americans, who also tend to be very homophobic. DeGeneres’s wife had to be blond as well. Thus, the only difference between this woman and the white Americans watching her is her sexuality and her boyish look.
Blond hair seems to grant women access to something that they wouldn’t otherwise have. Either they are reaching for the unattainable or find themselves on a path that they cannot avoid anyway.
Rankine asks white women about their blondness. A cashier says that men treat her better. After a beat, she adds that women are also friendlier. A woman in a restaurant in New York says that she was blond as a child and shows Rankine a video of her younger blond self on her phone. Her hair darkened during puberty. In the video, Rankine sees that the woman’s siblings have dark hair. She wonders if the woman was treated as though she were special because she was blond. When Rankine asks why she bothered to bleach it as an adult, the woman finds it an odd question and doesn’t answer it. In another restaurant in which there are many blonds, Rankine asks a woman waiting for her companion. The woman says that “[b]lond hair makes [her] look brighter and lighter” (272). For similar reasons, she also likes to wear white. Rankine is struck by the woman’s juxtaposition of white with blondness. Shortly thereafter, Rankine asks another white woman about her blondness. The woman says that she feels younger as a blond, though she hadn’t been blond during childhood. Another white woman, who has tattoos and a “blond ombré hairstyle” says that being blond makes her feel “edgy” (273). Rankine appreciates her clarity, but she thinks that the woman misunderstands being blond as a means of challenging normality.
Still, dark-haired women are encouraged to go blond to liven up their lives. This is now ordinary. Thus, a white supremacist ideal seems like an ordinary ideal. The Aryan ideal of blondness was essential to the Nuremberg Race Laws. A friend of Rankine’s finds it absurd to attach blondness to white identity and white supremacy. The friend just says that blond hair looks better on most women.
Fashion and beauty writer Andrea Cheng relates “her earliest memory of feeling marginalized by her Asian identity within the white American suburban community” in which she grew up (277). She was five and asked her mother why she wasn’t blond. Belonging meant having blond hair. She writes that Asian women who dye their hair blond talk about feeling more confident, breaking with older generations, and experimenting with beauty ideals. It is also possible that they are trying to become more visible.
Rankine concludes that blondness might be a passive and easy method of complicity with white supremacy. Hearing women talk about blond hair lighting up their faces, making them more attractive to men, making them edgier, or giving women of color access to power they wouldn’t otherwise have, makes Rankine realize that the hair color still “points to white power and its values as desirable” (281). It, thus, becomes harder to behave as though our freedoms are not intertwined with some complicity with these values.
Rankine sees a college-aged Black woman standing on the street near Rankine’s apartment building. She tells the young woman that she looks incredible. The young woman smiles. Rankine then asks her why she bleached her hair. The woman answers, why not, but says it as though it isn’t a question. The young woman continues on, leaving Rankine to wonder if this isn’t the way in which Black people can free themselves from constantly confronting history.
Rankine is talking to a makeup artist. She asks the woman what needs her clients have based on their respective races. The woman says that Russian women want bigger lips. Asian women want to be as light-skinned as possible. The makeup artist, who is a dark-skinned Black woman, says that she understands the desire to lighten. Rankine assumes that the woman is talking about colorism—how lighter-skinned people are generally preferred among some people of color.
The makeup artist’s comment, and the resignation with which she utters it, makes Rankine think of an Asian student who once confessed that her mother is racist. The student said that her mother believed that the student’s father must have been partly white, due to his being so handsome. This makes Rankine think of a 2016 Chinese laundry detergent ad in which a Black man is being stuffed into a washing machine. He reemerges as a light-skinned Chinese man.
While watching tennis phenom Naomi Osaka, she wonders how Osaka deals with her Japanese mother being estranged from her parents due to her loving a Haitian man. Rankine wonders if its fear of the “contagion of foreignness” or the sense of having been “polluted by blackness” (295). Rankine concludes that it’s likely both. When Osaka defeated Serena Williams in the 2018 U.S. Open, an Australian cartoonist portrayed Williams in a racist caricature and drew Osaka as a blond. One of Osaka’s sponsors, Nissin Foods, has lightened her skin. Osaka was displeased. In relating that displeasure, however, she described herself as “tan.” One tweeter noted that sponsors were, at least, not making Osaka darker. Rankine wonders if, by lightening Osaka in the ads, the sponsors are just “trying to protect her and their products from anticipated Japanese antiblack racism” (298). A Japanese comedy team once said that Osaka needed bleach for her skin. An article in the webzine The Root, which focuses on African American culture, has described the difficulties that people with diverse racial backgrounds in Japan have faced. Rankine wonders if Osaka would face similar difficulties if she were half-Korean or half-Indian.
Rankine notes that President Obama “received 62 and 73 percent of the votes from Asian Americans in the 2008 and 2012 elections” (299). She wonders what they thought the first Black president could uphold for them.
Rankine wonders how “many narratives there are for black people in the white imaginary” (301). The late deconstructionist theorist Barbara Johnson would say that whatever narratives may exist have already been read. Rankine writes that she would add that all narratives about Black people would name them with words beginning with the letter “N.” Nurse, nanny, and no one would be among those names.
Activist and attorney Bryan Stevenson has said that Black people are “conditioned to be indifferent” (301). Writer Ta-Nehisi Coates has encouraged us to wonder what life would be like if Black Americans received reparations. In response, Senator Mitch McConnell has dismissed the idea, claiming that reparations aren’t necessary for something that happened 150 years ago for which no living American citizens are responsible.
In 2016, 62 percent of white men and 47 percent of white women, according to Rankine, voted for Donald Trump to become president. This, she argues, is a “capitulation to the built-in violence in white supremacy” (302). There is no other way for her to understand their indifference to children sleeping on concrete floors in ICE detention centers. The argument is that the children in those facilities “are not our kids” (303).
Rankine wonders why every American isn’t involved in the struggle against nationalism. She thinks of “the liminal space in the train station in Boston Back Bay” (305). An automated response encourages passengers who see something to say something. It then adds the seeing something indicates an action, but not a person. The next time Rankine was at Back Bay, the addendum was gone. She wonders why it was deleted.
White supremacist thinking, Rankine asserts, “is packaged as universal thinking and objective seeing” (307). This encourages others to think that what she imagines is irrelevant due to her status as a Black woman. Still, in both 2008 and 2012, all people of color elected a Black president, despite a majority of white voters voting for white candidates. Many white people claimed the victory for themselves, however, arguing that it signaled an end in the country’s racism.
Rankine wonders how the nation can reach a place in which all Americans believe in our inalienable rights. She wonders about who is included in our collective “we.” She also suggests that E pluribus unum may be at the root of our mistake if there is, indeed, one identity “the rest of us should […] map ourselves onto” (309).
Rankine concludes with the knowledge that she has a strong but inarticulate desire “for a future other than the one that seems to be forming” (313). This desire is what brings her to tables, ready to listen, to respond, and to await responses from others.
In this section, Rankine contemplates the phenotypical aspects of whiteness—blond hair and white skin. The irony of race is that even people who would be considered Black sometimes bear these traits.
Rankine considers the association of blondness with ultra-femininity and fecundity, which would help explain the trend of white women going blond for their weddings. There is also a connotation of innocence. These beliefs have fostered the notion that white women with blond hair are less serious and more fun than those with dark hair. The hair color can, in some instances, even distract from qualities that would otherwise be off-putting to the white mainstream. Thus, Rankine suggests that Ellen DeGeneres’s blond hair and her marriage to a blond actress may have been calculated attempts to help people adjust to her queer identity. DeGeneres’s lesbian identity and her preference for less feminine clothing are balanced by a hair color that many associate with femininity and ordinary whiteness. In contrast, Hillary Clinton’s hair color choice did not help her as her political ambitions grew. Clinton’s ambitious behavior, even while still in the ultra-feminine role of First Lady, and her eagerness for a leadership position always reserved for men contrasted with the tropes associated with blond hair.
Rankine then shifts to a brief examination of xenophobia and racism in Japan when considering the case of tennis phenom Naomi Osaka. Rankine wonders if Osaka would have experienced a similar backlash if she were half-Korean or half-Indian. The author seems unaware that similar anti-Black sentiments and false ideas about racial purity also exist in South Korea. Rankine also overlooks the prevalence of colorism in India, which would explain the exclusion of dark-skinned Indian women from Bollywood and the popularity of skin whitening products in India.
Rankine concludes the book by re-imagining plurality. She asserts that true plurality cannot exist alongside white supremacy, which requires that everyone conform to a single racial idea in order to belong. Only through dialogue, Rankine suggests, can we end the present reality and construct a new one. In this regard, Rankine’s mention of the Deconstructionist theorist Barbara Johnson is useful, as Deconstruction emphasizes the point that no text can have a fixed meaning. Meanings in language, the theory contends, are relational, and there are implicit assumptions in all of our forms of expression. This would explain why conversations between those who speak across racial and gender boundaries sometimes collapse under the mutual weights of our respective contexts.
By Claudia Rankine
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