Growing Pains of a Male Feminist

[Neoma]

My introduction to any kind of feminist thought can be traced back to my freshman English class at Hampton University. The first day, I showed up late and sported a Malcolm X T-shirt. My professor was not impressed with my simultaneous embrace of black nationalist politics and CP time, and he took a special interest in me, requiring that I stay after class for the first two weeks of the semester.

We would discuss writing, music, the politics of the day and my being a knucklehead. One day he took me to his office and handed me a book that he wanted me to read. I don't recall the title now, and my lack of interest led me only to skim it briefly, but it was largely about concepts of power and privilege relative to social status.

Upon my returning the book, the professor asked me what I thought, and I halfheartedly replied that it gave me something to think about regarding power when it comes to being rich or white. He poked a finger into my chest, stared intently at me and asked, "And what about for you, black man?" He emphasized "man" so hard, he must have known that I had skipped over that part of the book.

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