With a title like The Misadventures of Awkward Black Girl one does expect a lot of social fumbling, but here’s the thing: I don’t
think Issa Rae is as awkward as she thinks she is. Though maybe it is hard for
me, a fellow awkward, to be an unbiased judge in this situation. I can however
say with certainty that Issa Rae is very funny. I’ve been a fan of her web
series, also titled The Misadventures of Awkward Black Girl, for quite some
time and was looking forward to this memoir to quell my epic sadness over the
long term hiatus of the show. Rae talks about the awkwardness of adolescence
(the most awkward of life’s stages) as well as navigating relationships
socially, sexually, and racially – each with its own pitfalls. Rae can’t dance,
she went through a cheating phase, and white people always want to touch her
hair. It’s unfortunate; it’s awkward; it’s hilarious.
While the book is billed as a series of essays on
being awkward and black, this book is really a memoir of a young woman
navigating her early life in various and differing social climates. Issa Rae
and I are the same age, and a big part of my enjoyment of her book came from
exploring the similar elements of our cultural awareness as 90s kids. From A
Different World to Aaliyah, I was on a wave of reminiscence. However, ABG is
also about Issa Rae’s racial awareness, which is something that never occurred
to me as a white kid growing up in the suburbs. Reflecting on the
representation of race in pop culture in the 90s was surprising and saddening.
How is it possible that in the age of technological expansion we have regressed
so far in representation of minorities? Prime time television when I was a kid
was full of racially diverse characters – where are they now? Why does it seem
that everyone is forced to play to a stereotype? Or worse yet, to not be
present at all.
Issa Rae moved from a majority white school in
Maryland to a majority black school in Compton as a young teen. It was there
that she learned to feel her difference. She didn’t listen to the same music as
many of her peers, couldn’t dance, and generally fell outside of the cultural
perception of blackness. Rae mines
these years of teenage awkwardness to humorous effect, but much of the book
seems to lead up to her revelation that she is just fine being awkward and
black. Issa Rae doesn't have to be an Angry Black Woman; she doesn't need
swagger; who cares if she is not a good dancer? It's great to be awkward. This
cultural and stereotypical version of “blackness” that invalidates those who
feel outside of society's definition is slipping as, in Rae's words, “our
collective grasp of ‘blackness’ is becoming more and more elusive.”
