Pasttime Paradise: Down-Home Racism In “Post-Racial” America
I recently had the pleasure of visiting New Orleans for the very first time. Having grown up in South Florida, the city by the river was intriguing, but not as big a draw for me as the metropolises that grace the Eastern seaboard. Going to New Orleans – with its similar swamps, oppressive torpor, casual appropriation of local Native American culture, and alligator jerky – sounded about as appealing as hanging out with a rowdy, sweaty cousin. However, years of being regaled with tales of every manner of fun that could be had in the Big Easy had intrigued me. NO ONE comes home without an epic anecdote. More than one jaded and well-travelled New Yorker in my circle got that faraway look in their eyes talking about New Orleans. My recent desire to explore the regional diversity of Southern cultures (I blame True Blood) and shake off some one-horse-town dust pretty much sealed the deal. So, with a deep breath and a few mouse clicks, I was ready to go.
And New Orleans didn’t disappoint. From the start, I was smitten: by the architecture, the streetcars, the museums, the sweetness of the regional drawl, the overpriced souvenir shops, the heavenly food, the decidedly French celebration of debauchery, and (sweet merciful McGillicutty!) the take away cup. By the second day of my trip I was calculating moving and living expenses. (Really. I was.) These were the thoughts that danced merrily in my little tourist head as I strolled down Chartres Street on my way from viewing the grounds of the Saint Louis Cathedral. I was feeling better than I had in weeks, maybe even months. So I was most unprepared to meet one resident of New Orleans who I would not soon forget.
This is Nola Mae.
Nola Mae is the “flagship” doll of the Big Lips: “The Better To Kiss You With” New Orleans Doll Company collection by New Orleans-based artist Jamie Hayes. The Big Lips dolls, which are “inspired by Nola Mae”, come in a range of flesh and hair tones. They all feature large round eyes and brightly colored outsized lips, sometimes with teeth. There are brides, grooms and even tux boys. Hayes, who counts Vincent Van Gogh among his influencers, favors unusual designs and exceptionally bright tones and shades in all his work. His unique style lends itself beautifully to just about anything with a Mardi Gras theme. The sense of childlike whimsy evident in the prints almost made me smile.
Inside the gallery
"King Mardi Gras" by Jamie Hayes
"Star Kitty" by Jamie Hayes
Almost.
To make sure I wasn’t imagining this upsetting showcase of non-malicious racism* I decided to get some outside feedback. I attached a picture of the Nola Mae doll and sent it via IM to a friend who I value for his cool-headed objectivity. His response:
Him: WHAT THE FUCK
Him: Where did you find that at
Me: Yeah…
Me: At a gallery.
Him: was it a Klan gallery
Him: that’s some racist shit
Him: is this something you bought
Me: ROFF! No, an artist here makes them.
Me: And get this: dude is colorblind. So I feel like an ass for feeling like this is kinda really racist.
Him: bullshit
Me: No, he is. He can’t see color.
Him: BULLSHIT
Me: It’s really bugging me.
Me: I don’t want to think about it while I’m trying to enjoy my stay here.
Him: knock something out when you get home
Him: DAMN that’s racist
Although I agreed, it would have been facile for me to dismiss some of these works as deliberately racist. I decided that it was a good idea to see what I could learn about the man behind Nola Mae.
Hayes’ simultaneous assertion of color blindness and admission of being “a bit of a fibber” notwithstanding, I do think that subconscious, non-malicious racism is responsible for the more racially troubling visual elements of his work. Hayes, a son of New Orleans, in all likelihood grew up with these images all around him, on products and in advertisements. Hayes may have absorbed – but never bothered to critically examine – these images. So while Hayes genuinely have no clue as to where his inspiration for Nola Mae came from, I think I have some idea.
Sigh.
With her large round eyes, exaggerated lips and beribboned braids, Nola Mae is a textbook example of the classic pickaninny caricature, our very own stateside version of the Golliwogg. There’s even an accompanying children’s book cataloguing her adventures. (I couldn’t bring myself to buy the book, not even for research. Apparently, Nola Mae does three special things in it, and if those things have anyting to do with singing, dancing, or chicken and watermelon, my head will explode. It’s worth noting that, per Hayes himself, Nola Mae came years before the book.) I wasn’t surprised to discover that the Big Lips and Voodoo dolls are best-sellers. I heard more than one coing visitor describe the dolls as “adorable” and ”precious.” An interesting and telling theme that has coalesced around the pickaninny is the idea that these images - grotesque, dehumanized and occasionally sexualized images of Black children - are “cute.” Not offensive, not racist, not disturbing and unwholesome. Cute. Similarly “quaint” and “charming” postcards with images of Mammy, Tom and Rastus litter just about every souvenir shop in the French quarter, and according to one of the store owners I asked, they’re quite popular with tourists.**
The fact that there has been a healthy market for the consumption of these images since their inception almost two centuries ago belies declarations of a “post-racial” modern society. What has emerged instead is a diabolically sophisticated narrative that combines tenets of “color blindness” and “tolerance” with post-racialism. The result: a system of rhetorical gaslighting that permits individuals to indulge in the most blatant kinds of old-school racism while simultaneously denying its existence. Postcards featuring stereotypical depictions of Black women, men and children aren’t racist, toxic and harmful; they’re “cute” and enjoyable, a nice takeaway for nice hard-working folks who probably voted for Obama, and might even have a Black friend.
The more things change…
*I define non-malicious racism as unintentional, subconscious, and/or non-violent racism. This isn’t to suggest that its effects are neutral – they clearly aren’t.
** The owner I spoke with also informed me that, while her store doesn’t carry “lynch” postcards, they are often requested by tourists. Read more about them here.
Explore posts in the same categories: Art, Racism, non-malicious, that's that BULLLLSHIT!Tags: Fhat the wuck, Jesus be a fence, New Orleans, Race fetish, Racism, Really? REALLY really?, sexism, Stereotypes, the cultural "Other"
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June 25, 2010 at 9:01 am
[...] By Guest Contributor Fiqah, originally published at Possum Stew [...]
July 18, 2010 at 5:57 pm
great way to break that down…
{and i LOVE new orleans}
July 20, 2010 at 12:17 pm
Ya know, I decided when I was there that I wouldn’t let the incident weigh on me too heavily. It’s a beautiful city, with amazing cultures, history, architecture, cuisine…a regular jewel of a place. I even (resolutely, with effort) ignored some of those damned postcards. But this…SIGH. I dunno. I take caricatures seriously, and caricatures of little Black babies – especially girls – reeeeeeeally get my back up. Anyway, thanks for reading and stopping by!
July 20, 2010 at 6:56 pm
What????? Dontcha love America?
January 5, 2011 at 10:29 pm
I’m from the New Orleans/Baton Rouge area and returned for New Years. While out walking around my husband pointed out this store. We were both shocked at the Nola Mae doll sitting in the doorway. Like standing in the street with our mouths open shocked. Going in we found that the drawing is even worse! We kept trying to rationalize it (“Maybe it is an antique print” “Maybe it is a black woman’s reclaiming of this image”) but there was no way around it. It was racist as hell and the store was PACKED with tourists. I took pictures and everyone we showed it to (from Louisiana and Alabama respectively) were equally horrified. So when I got home I Googled it trying to figure out what on earth it is and found your site.
It is upsetting that a store is so prominently selling this in my beloved city. I have long been upset about the representation of blackness in NOLA to tourists as either the happy maid/cook (like the drawing) or practicing “voodoo” which is presented as a backwards, superstitious and evil practice (unlike the actual religion). This store managed to cover both.
March 14, 2011 at 7:10 pm
Liz, THANK YOU. You are my first commenter who is from the area. I sensed in my deep-down heart that a lotta folks from Nola would be as appalled as I was. I remain saddened that a son of New Orleans is responsible for this. Thank you so much for stopping by!
October 8, 2011 at 1:07 pm
This morning I received one of Hayes’s prints in the mail to my NYC apartment. While the dog playing a guitar “art” piece did come across as tacky, I wasn’t truly bothered until I noticed the image on the postcard enclosed. I began to google his name as I had never heard of him, and that’s when I learned of his awful dolls. I’m no stranger to this “colorblind” approach from my years growing up in small town South Carolina. I could have lived out the rest of my life more peacefully not knowing this guy existed, but my younger brother stumbled upon his “gallery” on his recent trip to New Orleans and sent me one of his prints. I haven’t called him yet to ask what the hell he was thinking supporting this loser, but I plan on it. What’s worse is all of the sites I found online of ignorant consumers collecting his dolls. Disgusting.