Heads of the Colored People
Page 17
She yanked Ralph from the water, his eyes wide, her count long lost. She feared the damage was already irreparable and listened to his chest. Alma was frantic, but the muscle memory took over, and she began pumping for CPR. What if her baby did not wake up, and even then, would he be vegetative for the rest of his life?
She had only pumped once when Ralph gurgled, spat water, and cried. He was used to barely breathing.
Alma exhaled for the first time in months.
She didn’t know how they would get through the night, let alone years; one or both of them might end up with their heads underwater some other day. For now, she would monitor Ralph and herself, perhaps call Bette. She gently pinched Ralph’s chubby leg. She felt something like sunlight on her neck and torso, saw a hot flash of heaven or hope in that baby’s wet face, and redressed him and herself for bed.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
I would be remiss if I did not give credit for the title of this collection—and its titular story—to the writers who inspired it. The original “ ‘The Heads of the Colored People,’ Done with a Whitewash Brush” was written by James McCune Smith, under the pen name Communipaw. Smith created a long-running series of sketches similar to those mentioned in this collection’s opening story and similar to the works of his contemporaries William J. Wilson (who wrote his own series of sketches called The Afric-American Picture Gallery mentioned in “Heads”) and Jane Rustic (a.k.a. Frances Ellen Watkins Harper), a prolific black writer, abolitionist, and feminist. These writers published widely, often serializing their work in Frederick Douglass’s Paper, The Anglo-African Magazine, and The Christian Recorder. Some of these works have since been anthologized in volumes like A Brighter Coming Day, edited by Frances Smith Foster. The sketches, first introduced to me in the work of the scholar Derrick R. Spires, narrate black life from the mundane to the obscure and span the didactic to the macabre.
This collection departs in most ways from the original content of the nineteenth-century black writers’ sketches. The stories presented here do not follow the brevity of the sketch form. And while Smith, Wilson, and Watkins Harper were trying to theorize what it would mean for black people to have the full rights of citizenship, the black people in this collection have, on paper, full rights under the law. But like the original sketches, these stories maintain an interest in black US citizenship, the black middle class, and the future of black American life during pivotal sociopolitical moments. The stories herein also play with the theme of “Heads” broadly, considering literal heads as well as leadership and psychology. And as should be clear, this collection is just as preoccupied with black bodies and the betrayals of those bodies—both external and internal—as it is with heads.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
First, I want to thank God for this opportunity and divine timing and for the many people who helped make this collection possible: Derrick, my husband, I’m so proud of you and grateful for your ongoing love, support, and your brilliant work; my parents, Rufus and Dr. Gail Thompson, who kept books in my hands and love in our home and served as my first mentors, publicists, and editors; my siblings, NaChé and Stephen Thompson, and my nephews Iveren and Isaiah for keeping me laughing; my aunt and uncle Tracy and Thomas Harkless, my mother-in-law, Daisy Spires, and my aunt Merlene Walker for being cheerleaders and sending me useful things like avocados and flannel sheets; and my godmother Margaret Goss, who encouraged me to be a writer.
Friends, you are invaluable, especially Selena Brown.
Donika Kelly, Destiny Birdsong, Nikki Spigner, and Deborah Lilton, thank you for providing a safe space for our writing and yoga—and Petal Samuel and Kaneesha Parsard for enriching and shaping that space as it evolved.
Leah Rae-Mittelmeier Soule, Natalie Inman, Valencia Moses, Elizabeth Barnett, Diana Bellonby, Matt Duques, Jasper Spires, Adrienne Coney, Debbie Harris, Shirleen Robinson, and Emily August, thank you for supporting me and my work.
To my many teachers, thanks for all you have sown into me: longtime mentors Paul D. Young, Carolyn Dever, and Dana Nelson, who nurtured me and Derrick through graduate school and beyond, listened to me talk ad nauseam about Degrassi and other Canadian things, and in some cases even gave us homemade pasta sauce; Ravi Howard and Jacinda Townsend, who workshopped a few of these stories and taught me to empathize more with my characters; Lorraine Lopez, Tony Earley, and Alice Randall, who provided excellent professional advice during my earliest days of creative writing; U of Illinois faculty mentors and colleagues Alex Shakar, Audrey Petty, LeAnne Howe, Steve Davenport, Janice Harrington, Robert Dale Parker, Candice Jenkins, and Ronald Bailey for believing in my work; the U of I departments of African-American Studies and Creative Writing more generally; and Mrs. Colleen Farley and Ms. Sandy Alps, my middle school and high school English teachers, respectively, who contributed to my love of writing.
Many thanks to the colleagues and friends who have workshopped these stories and other writing, particularly Avery Irons, Roya Khatiblou, Greg Rodgers, Kristin Walters, Nolan Grieve, and Katherine Scott Nelson; the Callaloo Creative Writing Workshop and Callaloo friends in general, especially Marame Gueye, Kiietti Walker-Parker, Toni Ann Johnson, Baleja Saidi, Anya Lewis Meeks, and Courtney Moffett-Bateau; all the Binders who have taught me things every day online and at BinderCon; and Allison Wallis.
Thanks to the magazine editors and writers who published individual stories, judged them in contests, or invited me to read, including Stefanie Sobelle, Arielle Silver, Joanne Yi, Medaya Ocher, Lisa Beth Fulgham, Suzannah Windsor, Reem Al-Omari, Caleb Daniel Curtiss, Paul Lisicky, Stephanie Manuzak, Michael Sakoda, Jeff Chon, Jennine Capó Crucet, Peter Orner, and Mat Johnson.
Special thanks to Keith Wilson for letting me paraphrase his Facebook post about how black women die off camera and to Peter Hudson for saying “black crazy” in my presence but not about me.
With so much gratitude, thank you to my wonderful agent, Anna Stein, for believing in this project and editing it before it went out into the world and answering my many anxious emails, and on top of that giving me free books; to Madison Newbound, who has been very helpful and kind; to Mary Marge Locker, who worked on the book in its early days; to all the people at ICM who have made this happen; to Jensen Beach for putting me in touch with Anna and convincing me that short stories are still worth writing; and to my awesome co-agent Sophie Lambert, who sold the book in the UK; and all the folks at Conville and Walsh.
And finally, to my editors, Dawn Davis, Clara Farmer, and Charlotte Humphery, and to Lindsay Newton—a million thanks for your hard work reading and sculpting draft after draft, line after line. And thanks to all the people working behind the scenes in sales, publicity, copyediting, and art design at Atria/37 Ink and Chatto and Windus. There’s no way this book would be what it is now without you, and I am forever grateful.
An Atria Reading Club Guide
Heads of the Colored People
Nafissa Thompson-Spires
This reading group guide for Heads of the Colored People includes an introduction, discussion questions, and ideas for enhancing your book club. The suggested questions are intended to help your reading group find new and interesting angles and topics for your discussion. We hope that these ideas will enrich your conversation and increase your enjoyment of the book.
Introduction
In Heads of the Colored People, Nafissa Thompson-Spires grapples with black identity and the contemporary middle class in twelve compelling, boundary-pushing vignettes.
Each captivating story plunges headfirst into the lives of new, utterly original characters. Some are darkly humorous—from two mothers exchanging snide remarks through notes in their kids’ backpacks, to the young girl contemplating how best to notify her Facebook friends of her impending suicide, while others are devastatingly poignant—from a new mother and funeral singer who is driven to madness with grief for the young black boys who have fallen victim to gun violence, to the teen who struggles between her upper-middle-class upbrin
ging and her desire to fully connect with black culture. Thompson-Spires fearlessly shines a light on the simmering tensions and precariousness of black citizenship.
Topics and Questions for Discussion
1. In the opening story, “Heads of the Colored People: Four Fancy Sketches, Two Chalk Outlines, And No Apology,” what similarities arise in both Riley and Brother Man? At the height of the conflict between the two men, Thompson-Spires writes, “it was just like Naruto v. Pain, only with two black guys, so you couldn’t tell if either one was the hero.” Discuss why their race would help dictate knowing which character was the hero.
2. In the same story, before Thompson-Spires shares a few details of the shooting, did you already predict them? Were your predictions correct?
3. As Randolph speaks with DIY in “The Necessary Changes Have Been Made,” she says to him:
“Sometimes the problem is the environment; sometimes you are the environment. In your case, you think you’re making changes, but you take the problem with you, like you did exchanging your old job for this one,” she said, tapping one side of her head. Then she gestured with one hand for him to leave. Randolph left the meeting furious with DIY, though he couldn’t put his finger on exactly why. He asked Carol about the new office that day, and though it looked like another demotion of sorts, it represented, for him, a battle he won, growing a pair.”
Do you agree that Randolph is the problem here? Who won the battle: Randolph or Isabela?
4. In “Belles Lettres,” how does the feud between Dr. Lucinda Johnston and Dr. Monica Willis highlight the challenges upper class black families face? Which letter did you find the most offensive and yet comical, and how do the two women reconcile?
5. Fatima and Christinia are now adults in “The Body’s Defenses Against Itself.” As Fatima reminisces on childhood, we learn more about what really happened in their school-age years. What did Christinia’s mom call “the body’s defense against itself?” In closing, what does Fatima mean when she says, “I’ve been doing this yoga since I was a child?”
6. In the opening paragraph of “Fatima, The Biloquist: A Transformation Story,” Thompson-Spires writes, “Fatima felt ready to become black, full black, baa baa black sheep black . . . if only someone would teach her.” Describe how Violet teaches Fatima to be black.
7. Fatima spends weeks hiding her relationship with Rolf from Violet, her new best friend and the person who has helped her become comfortable being herself. What would make Fatima hide Rolf from Violet, or was she hiding Violet from Rolf? Where did Rolf go wrong in meeting Violet at the mall?
8. On page 81, Thompson-Spires writes, “ . . . other things she hadn’t told Violet because she wasn’t sure which lip she was supposed to use.” What does she mean by “which lip she was supposed to use?”
9. In “The Subject of Consumption,” Lisbeth and Ryan are fruitarians practicing detachment parenting while filming a reality TV show. While the tension in their relationship is sensed early on, it does not reflect the love the couple had in years prior. What is the main issue in their relationship now?
10. In Heads of the Colored People, we see just how dynamic relationships can be, both in person and digitally. In “Suicide, Watch,” Jilly leans on her online Facebook community as she drops hints of her coming suicide. In “Whisper to a Scream,” Raina feels safer in her ASMR videos. What are the pros and cons of social media in these instances? How and why does Jilly’s attempt to warn her “friends” fail?
On page 126, we see Carmen’s response to Raina feeling unsafe.
“Her mother had said she wanted to ‘deal with this situation,’ but she also asked Raina, ‘Did you do anything to make him think he could touch you like that? Did you give him any ideas?’”
How do you feel about Carmen’s response to Raina’s confiding? How does this response mirror the way larger society handles sexual assault?
11. What are your initial impressions of Marjorie in “Not Today, Marjorie” based on her recollection of her therapy session with Alex on page 149?
“‘Do your friends know how hard you are on yourself or how much you care about what other people think?’ Alex had asked just last week during their session. ‘Because it seems like your Christianity offers you grace, but you don’t seem to ever offer any to yourself.’ Marjorie almost told her about Coryn and Charles then, but she decided against it. Instead she said quietly, ‘I’m just trying to keep my hands clean, day by day. I’ve done a lot of bad things in my life, and I’ve asked for forgiveness, but I feel like I can’t stop doing them.’”
What do you believe about the concept of grace? Should Marjorie be completely honest with Alex and forgive herself?
12. It is often said that people repeat cycles until they learn the lesson they need to learn. In “This Todd,” we are introduced to Kim, an artist who repeatedly has unsuccessful relationships with disabled men. What must Kim learn in the way she handles these relationships? Is she tender? Was Brian right to call the police as Kim lugged a wooden leg into his home?
13. In “A Conversation about Bread,” we hear more of Brian’s story and spend time with him and his classmate Eldwin as they complete an assignment. Another character we see but do not hear from is the white woman listening in on their exchange. Thompson-Spires writes:
If Eldwin cared about the white woman—and he might have at some level, but it wasn’t a visible level—he would have seen that she was now very interested in the conversation. His theory, he had told Brian before, involved learning to ignore the white gaze until it no longer came to mind. Then, “and only then,” he’d said, “black people can be free from all that double consciousness bull.”
How would you define the “white gaze”? Do you believe it is possible for people of color to live outside of the white gaze?
14. Explain the significance of the title of the book. How did the theme show up in the different stories within the collection?
Enhance Your Book Club
1. Throughout the collection, how are you feeling in your own body? Did the collection make you more aware of the space you take up in the world by gender, race, and/or class?
2. Brian was not pleased with the way Eldwin portrayed the bread story. “I’d do more to try to distinguish the narrator from the other characters so it’s not like they’re some kind of monolith,” he states, along with other reasoning. In the end, Eldwin decides to go with another story. What do you believe convinced him to do so? Have you ever had a person tell your story from an angle that displeased you? How did that make you feel and what does it say about the ownership of certain narratives in society?
3. In “Wash Clean the Bones,” Alma has witnessed a lot of death in her life, from Terry to her patients to the bodies at the funerals. When she asks Bette, “But how would you protect him?” referring to her son, Ralph, what is the urgency and fear in her asking? How does this fear arise in other stories?
4. What surprised you most in the collection of stories? Did one story resonate very strongly for you? If so, why?
5. Of This World author Allegra Hyde wrote of Heads of the Colored People, “Nafissa Thompson-Spires explores what it means to come to terms with one’s body, one’s family, one’s future.” In what ways do you see the collection exploring what it means to come to terms with one’s body, family, and future?
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Nafissa Thompson-Spires earned a PhD in English from Vanderbilt University and a Master of Fine Arts in Creative Writing from the University of Illinois.
Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in The White Review, Los Angeles Review of Books Quarterly, StoryQuarterly, Lunch Ticket, and The Feminist Wire, among other publications. She is a 2016 participant of the Callaloo Creative Writing Workshop and 2017 Tin House workshop, and a 2017 Sewanee Writers’ Conference Stanley Elkin Scholar. Born in San Diego, California, she now lives in Illinois with her husband.
MEET THE AUTHORS, W
ATCH VIDEOS AND MORE AT
SimonandSchuster.com
Authors.SimonandSchuster.com/Nafissa-Thompson-Spires
Facebook.com/37INKBOOKS @37INKBOOKS @37INKBOOKS
We hope you enjoyed reading this Simon & Schuster ebook.
* * *
Get a FREE ebook when you join our mailing list. Plus, get updates on new releases, deals, recommended reads, and more from Simon & Schuster. Click below to sign up and see terms and conditions.
CLICK HERE TO SIGN UP
Already a subscriber? Provide your email again so we can register this ebook and send you more of what you like to read. You will continue to receive exclusive offers in your inbox.
SELECTED BIBLIOGRAPHY
Brown, Charles Brockden. “An Address to the Ladies, by their Best Friend Sincerity.” The American Magazine The Charles Brockden Brown Electronic Archive and Scholarly Edition. January 20, 2017. http://www.brockdenbrown.cah.ucf.edu/xtf3/view?docId=1788-07594.xml;query=;brand=default.
———. Arthur Mervyn; or, Memoirs of the Year 1793: With Related Texts. Edited by Philip Barnard and Stephen Shapiro. Indianapolis: Hackett Classics, 2008.
———. Wieland and Memoirs of Carwin the Biloquist. New York: Penguin Classics, 1991.
Cullen, Countee. “Incident.” My Soul’s High Song, Collected Writings of Countee Cullen, Voice of the Harlem Renaissance. Edited by Gerald Early. New York: Anchor, 1991.
Douglass, Frederick. Selected Speeches and Writings. Edited by Philip S. Foner and Yuval Taylor. Chicago: Chicago Review Press, 2001.
Fanon, Frantz. Black Skins, White Masks. Translated by Richard Philcox. New York: Grove, 2008.