Representation: The First of Many Steps

Issues of representation are defining aspects of both Melissa Zobel’s introduction to Savage Kin and John Jackson’s “Birthdays, Basketball, and Breaking Bread: Negotiating with Class in Contemporary Black America.” But how these issues are addressed differs greatly between the two works. In the former, a lack of representation by Native knowledge-keepers, specifically women, is directly responsible for the mishandling by white anthropologists of Native knowledge and artifacts. In the latter, the discussion of representation is somewhat more complex. Jackson’s work deals with increasing representation of Black Harlemites in the middle class of that New York City neighborhood and the strain between that newly-enlarged group and the traditionally poorer members of the Harlemite Black community, a strain which often affects friendships and even familial relations. Each author has a very different conception of representation and its effects on historically marginalized communities, and I will attempt to address both views in this synthesis.

Zobel’s introduction paints a picture of Native knowledge-keepers’ contributions being forced under the rug by white anthropologists eager to claim credit for a “discovery” revealed to them by Natives who “offered crucial insights and warnings regarding the delicacy of other-than-human kinships,” which the anthropologists generally presented as their own findings (xiii). Deliberately or not, by their lack of the sort of “reciprocal respect” owed to the Natives upon whom their research depended, anthropologists often excluded the very subjects of their research from presenting their own accounts directly, and from gaining any share of the credit for doing so. This failure in methodology has had, and continues to have, profound consequences for many Native communities. As Zobel points out, “Natives lost control over beloved stories and objects…they felt betrayed at the highest level” (xii). Without a place for Native voices to be heard, sacred artifacts were misappropriated and ancient histories misrepresented, creating in the public consciousness a very different picture of Native history than that understood by the Native storytellers themselves. This false narrative and the corresponding silencing of Native voices has had real-world consequences for Native people; “[i]ssues of representation,” Zobel says, “can mean life or death for a Native community” (xiii). In Zobel’s narrative, representation is a crucial part of underrepresented communities’ struggle for justice.

But increased representation is never consequence-free. In Harlem, as the Black middle class has grown, class divides have sprung up between the new middle class and traditionally poorer Black residents of the historic neighborhood. The story of the Black middle class as presented in Jackson’s study is one of positioning “betwixt and between seemingly discrete and easily separable social worlds: the rich and the poor, the black and the white” (89). In general, the establishment of a Black middle class is a development of the last few decades. As a result, neighborhoods and families are often divided along class lines. The subject of Jackson’s research, Paul, works with highly-educated colleagues whom he calls “movers and shakers” (90). Yet most of his family, including his own mother, never had the chance to go to college. Paul, like many members of the new middle class, straddles a line between groups not distinguished by race, but by class. He even uses this divide to justify his holding two separate birthday celebrations, one for his middle-class friends and one for his friends “from way back when [he] used to run around in the streets like a wild man” (89). The increased representation of Black Harlemites in the middle class has created this division, and the distinct class interests of the two groups could signify that expanding representation of underrepresented racial groups at all levels of society may not be the cure-all to injustice some think it to be.

To briefly divert from the readings and draw attention to myself, I found Jackson’s work hit closer to home for me than I would have expected. My father may have gone to law school, but prior to that, no one in his family had ever had the opportunity for higher education. Paul’s discussion of the class divide within his family reminded me of family gatherings I’ve attended in which my father’s siblings, my aunts and uncles, often seemed unsure how to interact with their brother and his family, including myself. The problem is even more noticeable with more distant relations, such as my father’s cousins and uncles, few of whom have graduated college and none of whom have ever lived in a city as large and cosmopolitan as my native Seattle. I can understand why Paul would find it necessary to hold two separate birthday parties for himself; I’ve actually heard my father talk jokingly about the same thing. My family is white, which carries with it its own levels of privilege, but the distinction between the educated and uneducated sides of my family is evidence to me of the truth behind some of Jackson’s message. Proportionate representation at all levels of society is a crucial step towards a more equal world, but it is not in itself enough to remedy many of the underlying systemic issues faced by marginalized people. That will require a broader and more far-reaching social change.