As a Black person, the n-word (colloquialized) is a regularly used word in my everyday vocabulary, whether it’s with friends, an internal monologue, an exclamation or wherever it is applicable in the conversation; it’s very versatile. But what I’ve come to notice as I have grown older — as well as going to a university that is isolated both geographically and culturally — is that damn near everybody says it. I’ve seen and heard people of every race, gender, religion and creed say it. There is either no generally agreed upon gravity of the usage or people just don’t care. I’m not sure which is worse.
In preparation for writing this article, I took a week-long hiatus from saying the n-word, from Sunday to Sunday, 168 total hours. After that time spent, I still don’t understand how non-Black people have any real issue or struggle with avoiding the word, because in all honesty, it was surprisingly easy.
I’ve always heard constant excuses and pleas just to say the word. For example, the argument of “but they say it in rap songs! I can’t just sing along to my favorite artists?” I believe this to be the absolute worst excuse you could make. During my n-word sabbatical, I found it incredibly easy avoiding its usage while singing or rapping along to songs. It’s not like I was foaming at the mouth just to say it; I knew what was right and what was wrong. The idea of “the pass” or “the n-word pass” has been something I’ve been cognizant of since middle school. a “pass” to say the N-word, coveted by non-Black children everywhere. I have still yet to understand this constant need and desire to say something that is widely understood to be taboo if said by the wrong person.
The word has a long and storied history, stemming from Latin origins to describe the word “black” and then taking on patronizing and derogatory connotations later on during the Atlantic slave trade. There is still gravity to the usage of the word today, but nowhere near its vitriolic utilization in past decades and centuries. I believe it’s like that today due to this growing general understanding of the unspoken (and sometimes spoken) rule of the word’s usage, as well as the power of reclamation. To use a word that was hurled at myself, my friends, my family, those that have come before me, and possibly even the reader, is a form of protest, turning something fueled by hatred and the pursuit of power over others into a colloquialism for brotherhood and ultimately, community.
Something I’ve noticed is the usage of Black culture as a form of gain in social reputability. A lot of Black culture has become synonymous with the idea of “coolness,” without really crediting where it came from. It includes the music, style of clothes worn and even the words in people’s vocabulary (and in some cases, the n-word being one of those words). People are masquerading as something or someone that they are so incredibly far from being.
On top of social reputation, the idea of Blackness is used as a form of pushing a personal masculine identity. A disillusioned idea of what Blackness and masculinity are, respectively, is very destructive. In pursuit of this idea of being “hard” or tough, you will hear a “blaccent” get put on and the n-word thrown around. People will usually start to dress as what they believe it is to be “Black” and ultimately act as a caricature of what they think (Black) masculinity to be. Now you sound weird, look like Chingy on the cover of “Jackpot” and are using the n-word like a child that just learned how to curse.
Over the course of my decades of being conscious of the weight of the word, I’ve understood that I will never be able to really police its usage by non-Black people. Everyone is their own person, with free will that they exercise daily. But it won’t stop me from getting a sinking feeling in my chest. The feeling comes not from anger or rage, but from disappointment and pity. I’ve heard old friends and colleagues say it before; understanding the taboo and attracted by its “coolness,” but seem to have a lack of understanding in its meaning and significance, showing an absence of empathy.
It’s not that hard NOT to say it.