“A remarkably insightful and compelling book about the being and becoming of Blackness. Once I began reading it, I couldn’t stop. Written in the spirit and tradition of bell hooks and Frantz Fanon, it is one of the most important books written on the sociology, phenomenology, and psychology of racism and colonialism since Fanon’s Black Skin, White Masks.”

DAVID AUSTIN, author of Fear of a Black Nation and Dread Poetry and Freedom

“Grada Kilomba forcefully reminds us that the plantation is not in our past, it is the foundation and the practice of our current order of life, its social relations and our imaginaries. In this work, the plantation is revealed as the foundation of and therefore the shaper of modern life—actual and metaphorically. The plantation now lives in all of us with different effect and affect and it functions as a psychic tether of our very beings.”

RINALDO WALCOTT, author of The Long Emancipation: Moving Towards Black Freedom

“A rigorous and highly intimate exploration of the ways that the unfinished legacies of slavery, colonialism, and Europe’s African genocide remain sutured into the everyday lives of Black women. Kilomba’s work demonstrates the psychological and political urgency of ongoing anti-colonial struggle in a time of enduring calamity.”

ROBYN MAYNARD, author of Policing Black Lives: State Violence in Canada from Slavery to the Present

“Plantation Memories has become, for many of us, one of the critical resources for navigating … what Kilomba describes as the ‘continuous re-staging of the colonial order.’”

GABI NGCOBO, educator and curator of the 2018 Berlin Biennale for Contemporary Art

“Kilomba creates a space of resistance, and ultimately a space of hope: a new geography of the future.”

ALFREDO JAAR, artist, architect, photographer, and filmmaker

“An innovative and important intervention.”

PAUL GILROY, founding director of the Centre for the Study of Race and Racism at University College London

GRADA KILOMBA

BETWEEN THE LINES
TORONTO

Plantation Memories

© Unrast Verlag 2008

First published in North America in 2021 by

Between the Lines

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All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be photocopied, reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording, or otherwise, without the written permission of Between the Lines, or (for copying in Canada only) Access Copyright, 69 Yonge Street, Suite 1100, Toronto, ON M5E 1K3.

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Text design by Unrast Verlag

Cover design by DEEVE

Printed in Canada

This is in Remembrance of Our Ancestors

Acknowledgements

Introduction

Chapter 1 THE MASK

Colonialism, Memory, Trauma and Decolonization

Chapter 2 WHO CAN SPEAK?

Speaking at the Centre, Decolonizing Knowledge

Chapter 3 SPEAKING THE UNSPEAKABLE

Defining Racism

Chapter 4 GENDERED RACISM

“(…) would you like to clean our house?” – Connecting ‘Race’ and Gender

Chapter 5 SPACE POLITICS

1. “Where do you come from?” – Being Placed Outside the Nation

2. “(…) but you cannot be German.” – Colonial Fantasies and Isolation

3. “(…) they want to hear an exotic story.” – Voyeurism and the Joy of Otherness

Chapter 6 HAIR POLITICS

4. “(…) people used to touch my hair!” – Invading the Black Body

5. “Excuse me, how do you wash your hair?” – Fantasies of Dirtiness and Colonial Domestication

6. “(…) me and my natural hair.” – Hair, Black Women and Political Consciousness

7. “He smelled my hair and made this association… with monkeys” – White Wild Fantasies, Love and the Black Venus

Chapter 7 SEXUAL POLITICS

8. “Wer hat Angst vor dem Schwarzen Mann” – The Oedipus Complex, Killing the Black Man and Seducing the Black Woman

9. “(…) as if we are going to take their men or their children” – Fantasies of the Black Whore vs. Black Mammy

10. “I was [competition] for her because I was Black like her child” – Black Women, Black Children, White Mothers

Chapter 8 SKIN POLITICS

11. “Well, but for me you are not Black!” – Racial Phobia and Recompense

12. “My adoptive parents used the word ‘N.’ all the time. For me they used the word ‘M.’…” – Racism within the Family

13. “I didn’t want to be seen as a ‘N.,’ like they were” – Misrepresentation and Identification

Chapter 9 THE N-WORD AND TRAUMA

14. “What a beautiful ‘N.’!” – The N-word and Trauma

15. “What beautiful skin… I want to be a ‘N.’ … too!” – Envy and Desire for the Black Subject

16. “You get this ache in your fingers” – The Unspeakable Pain of Racism

17. “Everybody is different (…) and that makes the world great…” – The Theatre of Racism and Its Triangulation

Chapter 10 SEGREGATION AND RACIAL CONTAGION

18. “Whites on one side, Blacks on the other” – Racial Segregation and White Fantasies of Racial Contagion

19. “The neighborhood where I was living was white” – Crossing the Boundaries and Hostility

Chapter 11 PERFORMING BLACKNESS

20. “If I were the only Black student in the class, I had to, in a sense, represent what that meant” – Performing Perfection and Representing the ‘Race’

21. “But where do your great-grandparents come from?” – Coming to Germany

22. “Foreigners have it better here than prisoners” – Racist Confessions and Aggression

Chapter 12 SUICIDE

23. “My mother committed suicide (…) I think she was very lonely in our town” – Racism, Isolation and Suicide

24. “The Great Mothers of the Black ‘Race’” – The ‘Super Strong Black Woman’ and the Silent Suffering

Chapter 13 HEALING AND TRANSFORMATION

25. “Those dolls, you see them if you go to plantation houses in the South” – Colonial Objects and the Transformation of Spaces

26. “I had to read a lot, to learn, to study (…) meet other Black people.” – Decolonizing the Self and the Process of Dis-alienation

27. “Black people greeted me on the street…” – Piecing Together the Fragments of Colonialism

28. “(…) sistah, he said” – Mama Africa and Traumatic Reparation

Chapter 14 DECOLONIZING THE SELF

LITERATURE

INDEX

I do deeply thank

Alicia and Kathleen – fictive names – who have shared their very personal stories, memories, joys and injuries with me in the form of interviews, making this book possible.

All my students, who every Wednesday have enthused me with their brilliant questions, observations and thoughts, as well as their incredible dedication and commitment.

Irmingard Staeuble, my first mentor, for her wisdom, kindness and inspiration, as well as for her untiring efforts to motivate me to write and conclude this book.

Paul Mecheril, my second mentor, for his knowledge, humor and clever revelations.

Katharina Oguntoye, for her constant smile, encouragement and politics.

Ursula Wachendorfer, for her moving ideas, tenderness and discussions.

Amy Evans, my dearest friend, who has been inspiring me for a long time, for her beautiful writings, dedication and loving support.

Anne Springer, my psychoanalyst, who has been taking care of my emotional life, wounds, anger and disappointments, giving me the tools to use them as a resource to re-create a happy existence.

Fábio Maia, my Candomblé priest, who has been taking care of my spiritual life, nourishing my soul, my ancestors and my Orixás with care, wisdom and love.

Oxalá or Obatalá, my first Orixá, for showing me how to use his serenity, peace, clarity and wisdom as guidance in my life and work.

Yemanjá, my second Orixá, for showing me how to use her love and assertiveness as creative tools.

Oxóssi, my Orixá Odú, for showing me how to catch my dreams with determination and belief, like a hunter.

Oya, my devoted Orixá, for showing me how to use her strength to fight for equality and respect.

And my family: my father who, with much love, always told me to become an independent and dignified Black woman. And my mother who showed me what it means to be that woman. My grandmother Vó. My brothers Zé,

Pedro and Gonçalo, and my sisters Patrícia and Júlia. And, of course, little André, little Keziah and little Noah – the future.

Why do I write?

’Cause I have to.

’Cause my voice,

in all its dialects,

has been silent too long

(Jacob Sam-La Rose¹)

This is one of my favorite poems. I have read it a thousand times, again and again. And each time I read it, it seems that my whole history is summarized within it. The five short lines recall quite ingeniously a long history of imposed silence. A history of tortured voices, disrupted languages, imposed idioms, interrupted speeches and the many places we could neither enter nor stay to speak our voices. All this seems to be written there. At the same time, this is not only a poem about the continual loss urged on by colonialism. It is also a poem about resistance, about a collective hunger to come to voice, to write and to recover our hidden history. That is why I like it so much.

The idea that one has to write, almost as a virtual moral obligation, embodies the belief that history can “be interrupted, appropriated, and transformed through artistic and literary practice” (hooks 1990: 152). Writing this book has indeed been a way of transforming because here, I am not the ‘Other,’ but the self, not the object, but the subject, I am the describer of my own history, and not the described. Writing therefore emerges as a political act. The poem illustrates writing as an act of becoming,² and as I write, I become the narrator, and the writer of my own reality, the author of and the authority on my own history. In this sense, I become the absolute opposition of what the colonial project has predetermined.

bell hooks uses these two concepts of ‘subject’ and ‘object,’ arguing that subjects are those who alone “have the right to define their own reality, establish their own identities, name their history” (hooks 1989: 42). As objects, however, our reality is defined by others, our identities created by others, and our “history named only in ways that define (our) relationship to those who are subjects” (hooks 1989: 42). This passage from objecthood to subjecthood is what marks writing as a political act. It is furthermore an act of decolonization in that one is opposing colonial positions by becoming the ‘valid’ and ‘legitimate’ writer, and reinventing oneself by naming a reality that was either misnamed or not named at all. This book represents this double desire: the desire to oppose that place of ‘Otherness’ and the desire to invent ourselves anew. Opposition and reinvention thus become two complementary processes, because opposing as such is not enough. One cannot simply oppose racism since in the vacant space after one has opposed and resisted, “there is still the necessity to become – to make oneself anew” (hooks 1990: 15). In other words, there is still the need to become subjects.

This book can be conceived as a form of ‘becoming a subject’ because in these writings I seek to bring to voice the psychological reality of everyday racism as told by Black women, based on our subjective accounts, self-perceptions and biographical narratives – in the form of episodes. Here, we are speaking “in our own name” (Hall 1990: 222) and about our own reality, from our own perspective, which has, as in the last line of the poem, been silent for too long. This line describes how this process of writing is both a matter of past and of present, that is why I start this book by remembering the past in order to understand the present, and I create a constant dialogue between both, since everyday racism embodies a chronology that is timeless.

Plantation Memories explores the timelessness of everyday racism. The combination of these two words, ‘plantation’ and ‘memories,’ describes everyday racism as not only the restaging of a colonial past, but also as a traumatic reality, which has been neglected. It is a violent shock that suddenly places the Black subject in a colonial scene where, as in a plantation scenario, one is imprisoned as the subordinate and exotic ‘Other.’ Unexpectedly, the past comes to coincide with the present, and the present is experienced as if one were in that agonizing past, as the title of this book announces.

Chapter 1, The Mask: Colonialism, Memory, Trauma and Decolonization begins with the description of a colonial instrument, a mask, as a symbol of colonial politics and sadistic white policies of silencing the Black subject’s voice during slavery: Why must the mouth of the Black subject be fastened? And what would the white subject have to listen to? This chapter approaches not only questions related to memory, trauma and speech, but also the construction of Blackness as ‘Other.’

Chapter 2, Who Can Speak? Speaking at the Centre, Decolonizing Knowledge, approaches similar questions in the context of scholarship: Who can speak? Who can produce knowledge? And whose knowledge is acknowledged as such? In this chapter I explore colonialism in academia and the decolonization of scholarship. In other words, I am concerned here with racial authority and the production of knowledge: what happens when we speak at the centre?

Chapter 3 Speaking the Unspeakable: Defining Racism. How should one speak about what has been silenced? Here, I start by analyzing the theoretical deficit in racism and everyday racism theories and explore what for me is the adequate methodology to speak about the experienced reality of everyday racism as told by two women of the African diaspora: Alicia, an Afro-German woman, and Kathleen, an African-American woman living in Germany. Both narrate their experiences of everyday racism within their personal biographies.

Chapter 4, Gendered Racism: “(…)would you like to clean our house” – Connecting ‘Race’ and Gender, is an engendered approach to racism. Here, I explore the intersection between ‘race’ and gender as well as the failure of Western feminism to approach the reality of Black women within gendered racism. Moreover, I present the aims of Black feminism.

The following chapters constitute the very center of this work. Here, the interviews of Alicia and Kathleen are analyzed in detail in the form of episodes, and divided in the following chapters: chapter 5, Space Politics; chapter 6, Hair Politics; chapter 7, Sexual Politics; chapter 8, Skin Politics; chapter 9, The N-word and Trauma; chapter 10, Segregation and Racial Contagion; chapter 11, Performing Blackness; chapter 12, Suicide; chapter 13 Healing and Transformation.

The book concludes with Chapter 14, Decolonizing the Self, where I review and theorize the most important topics that arise in this book as well as possible strategies of decolonization.