I was sitting at my desk when I received a call from one of my editors. She wanted me to cover an event and she was very excited about it.
Editor “Hi Jessica! I have a great event I would like for you to cover tomorrow night! Are you available?!”
Me “But of Course! What is it?”
Editor “The Ghetto Awards!” (What you talking bout Willis?)
Me “ummm…. Did you say the Ghetto Awards?”
Editor “That’s right the Annual Ghetto Awards! I will send you an email tomorrow morning detailing the Ghetto event along with a tip sheet of the celebs I want you to interview. Thanks Jess! The Ghetto Awards should be great!” (was it me… or did she get a kick out of saying the word “ghetto” to me?)
I hung up the phone and just sat there. I felt violated, upset and confused. Why was there an event called the Ghetto Awards? Who was going to be at this event that we would actual use for the magazine or the website? But… most important... why do I…. The BLACK GIRL have to cover such a thing? I was offended!
My desk was in the area of the office known as the reporters cave. The room was 5 black female research reporters and one white. She was form the suburbs of the Chi (I shared a Midwest connection with her). They could see something was on my mind.
Co worker “Jess, what’s going on?”
Me “I was asked to cover an event tomorrow night….”
Co Worker “That’s great! What are you covering?”
Me “The Annual Ghetto Awards”
My response was met by a bunch of lip smacks, sucking of the teeth, and a chorus of “OH HEEEEEEEEEEELL NAWs”
Co Worker “You are just being funny… right?”
Me “Unfortunately, I’m not. And I agreed to cover it before she told me what the event was… It would be unprofessional for me to back out. I mean the name alone sounds like I’m going to a modern day coon show! I can see it now. I will be in a room with Flavor Flav, T-Pain, Soulja Boy and a slew of reject BET UNCUT video hoes. The award will be in the shape of a golden hand that is throwin up the “Westside” sign. It will given out by weavalicious chicks wearing light up stripper shoes and cut up shirts that read: “I’m dat Bitch”
Co Worker (laughing) “You’re stupid! Well, did your editor provide any information?”
Me “She said I would get the info in the morning… but she mentioned this is an annual event… I’m going to Google it now.”
I could not find any information on the Ghetto Awards. But, what was really bothering me was why I was chosen to cover this event. Why did a black person have to do it… like to be ghetto meant you had to be black. Plus, there were 2 other black girls the same age as me that reported. Why was I the black girl chosen? The 3 of us are all about the same completion… so I could not pull the “It’s because I’m dark skinned” card. And one of the girls rocked a fro… which often times some people (draw your own conclusion as to whom) stereotype as being more “militant”, “down” or dare I say “ghetto”.
I turned to suburb Chi-town chick and asked her opinion as to why I was chosen for this particular story. Perhaps she could give me the white prospective of the situation which would help me to understand my editor.
Chi-town “Well, Jess… This might sound bad… but if I was an editor and that came across my desk… I would turn to my black reporters.”
Me “Why? If there was a Gay Pride event I would not turn to my gay reporters. Or if there was a martial arts contest… I would not turn to my Asian reporters. Why when you hear the word ghetto would you assume that means black? There was a time in American History where ghetto was used to describe a section of town where Jewish people lived. Contrary to popular belief there are people of all races who live in the ghetto. I don’t get why it is a “black thing”.”
Chi-town “ This is true, but not everyone thinks like that and you know as well as I do that most people are going to correlate ghetto with being black… she probably thought that just because you are black… you know about the ghetto.”
Me “Okay, so out of the 3 black reporters, why was I selected… ?”
Chi-town (nervous laugh) “Because out of the 3… you act the most ghetto…”
I looked at her like she just called me the “N” word. But, I did ask her… she was just being honest.
Me “Would you please explain how I am more ghetto?” (This was one of those situations she would have been screwed no matter what she said. I felt bad for putting her on the spot, but I just wanted to know.)
Chi-town “ Come on Jess! The other two are the most white acting black girls I have ever met! Not that I’m saying you are ghetto… but you maintain an awareness that you are black. Do you think the other two sit at their desk and read theybf , bossip, and media take out every morning… NO. They are on Perez Hilton. If we were to go ask them about what was going on in black pop culture… THEY WOULD HAVE NO CLUE. They probably don’t even know what BET stands for.” (when keeping it real goes wrong… but I got what she was saying)
Me “You are inaccurate… I do read Perez Hilton… It’ just not at the top of my blog chain! But, you do bring up a good point… and I can see from a white prospective as to why I was selected to cover this event. Now, give me some dap and let’s go get some chicken!”
Everyone in the room begins to laugh… but even then I was still upset about the situation. I grabbed my phone and went to 3 way my parents.
Dad “Ghetto Awards? They have those? ”
Mom “Are you getting overtime for this?”
Me “Yes….”
Dad “Well, I suggest you do it and go make some money because your rent is 1,000 a month!”
Me “Dad! I am offended on behalf of all black journalist who have been fighting to be treated and seen as equals in this industry. Oh I’ll do the story… so that perhaps one day some black girl like me will not have to cover the Ghetto Awards!”
Dad (in his best color purple voice) “ALL MY LIFE I’VE HAD TO FIGHT!”
Me “ Father…..I am not amused! But, I’ll call yall back when I get off work.”
I get back to my desk and my research boss (who is black) calls me into her office. She was in there with another black employee.
Me “I’m covering an event tomorrow!” (I just wanted to see what some seasoned professionals response was going to be to this.)
Research boss “Great! Where are you going!”
Me “The Ghetto Awards! (I then break out in a little version of the chicken noodle soap dance)
Black employee “I thought the BET awards were in LA?” (she was serious with that)
Me “I’m not talking about the BET awards… This is an event called Ghetto Awards… here in New York!”
Both black women “What the hell? Why are we even covering that!”
Black employee “I hope you mean you are covering an event for the Ghetto Film School. It’s a program that provides grants and scholarships to students who are passionate about creating short films and documentaries. They’re out of the Bronx and hold an awards ceremony every year around this time... sometimes they get a celebrity to speak.”
Me “All I was told was that I was covering the Ghetto Awards and I was the token chosen to go.”
Black employee “Yea, when your editor gives you your tip sheet in the morning… make sure it is Ghetto Film School and not Ghetto Awards…. Cause if you really are covering something called the Ghetto Awards… I have a problem with that.” (insert three snaps and a neck roll)
The next day in the reporters cave
Chi-town “Morning, Interesting choice to wear to the ghetto awards.”
Me “Were you expecting me to look like I was going to the Flav of Love casting call? Sorry girl, My blue jean Baby Phat cat suit is dirty.”
We both start laughing. I was wearing a kaki high wasted pencil skirt and white BCBG racer back tank that had some gold and silver jewels on it. I made sure there was a little bling on the shirt so I could relate to the people.
By this time I was at my desk and was about to open an email in my inbox subject line: “Ghetto information” (–sigh- my editor is a trip).
To be continued………
Stay tuned for more about the actual event, my interview with the Beastie Boys and Hip-hop Mogul Damon Dash, and the drunk woman who wanted to turn me into her house negro.
Editor “Hi Jessica! I have a great event I would like for you to cover tomorrow night! Are you available?!”
Me “But of Course! What is it?”
Editor “The Ghetto Awards!” (What you talking bout Willis?)
Me “ummm…. Did you say the Ghetto Awards?”
Editor “That’s right the Annual Ghetto Awards! I will send you an email tomorrow morning detailing the Ghetto event along with a tip sheet of the celebs I want you to interview. Thanks Jess! The Ghetto Awards should be great!” (was it me… or did she get a kick out of saying the word “ghetto” to me?)
I hung up the phone and just sat there. I felt violated, upset and confused. Why was there an event called the Ghetto Awards? Who was going to be at this event that we would actual use for the magazine or the website? But… most important... why do I…. The BLACK GIRL have to cover such a thing? I was offended!
My desk was in the area of the office known as the reporters cave. The room was 5 black female research reporters and one white. She was form the suburbs of the Chi (I shared a Midwest connection with her). They could see something was on my mind.
Co worker “Jess, what’s going on?”
Me “I was asked to cover an event tomorrow night….”
Co Worker “That’s great! What are you covering?”
Me “The Annual Ghetto Awards”
My response was met by a bunch of lip smacks, sucking of the teeth, and a chorus of “OH HEEEEEEEEEEELL NAWs”
Co Worker “You are just being funny… right?”
Me “Unfortunately, I’m not. And I agreed to cover it before she told me what the event was… It would be unprofessional for me to back out. I mean the name alone sounds like I’m going to a modern day coon show! I can see it now. I will be in a room with Flavor Flav, T-Pain, Soulja Boy and a slew of reject BET UNCUT video hoes. The award will be in the shape of a golden hand that is throwin up the “Westside” sign. It will given out by weavalicious chicks wearing light up stripper shoes and cut up shirts that read: “I’m dat Bitch”
Co Worker (laughing) “You’re stupid! Well, did your editor provide any information?”
Me “She said I would get the info in the morning… but she mentioned this is an annual event… I’m going to Google it now.”
I could not find any information on the Ghetto Awards. But, what was really bothering me was why I was chosen to cover this event. Why did a black person have to do it… like to be ghetto meant you had to be black. Plus, there were 2 other black girls the same age as me that reported. Why was I the black girl chosen? The 3 of us are all about the same completion… so I could not pull the “It’s because I’m dark skinned” card. And one of the girls rocked a fro… which often times some people (draw your own conclusion as to whom) stereotype as being more “militant”, “down” or dare I say “ghetto”.
I turned to suburb Chi-town chick and asked her opinion as to why I was chosen for this particular story. Perhaps she could give me the white prospective of the situation which would help me to understand my editor.
Chi-town “Well, Jess… This might sound bad… but if I was an editor and that came across my desk… I would turn to my black reporters.”
Me “Why? If there was a Gay Pride event I would not turn to my gay reporters. Or if there was a martial arts contest… I would not turn to my Asian reporters. Why when you hear the word ghetto would you assume that means black? There was a time in American History where ghetto was used to describe a section of town where Jewish people lived. Contrary to popular belief there are people of all races who live in the ghetto. I don’t get why it is a “black thing”.”
Chi-town “ This is true, but not everyone thinks like that and you know as well as I do that most people are going to correlate ghetto with being black… she probably thought that just because you are black… you know about the ghetto.”
Me “Okay, so out of the 3 black reporters, why was I selected… ?”
Chi-town (nervous laugh) “Because out of the 3… you act the most ghetto…”
I looked at her like she just called me the “N” word. But, I did ask her… she was just being honest.
Me “Would you please explain how I am more ghetto?” (This was one of those situations she would have been screwed no matter what she said. I felt bad for putting her on the spot, but I just wanted to know.)
Chi-town “ Come on Jess! The other two are the most white acting black girls I have ever met! Not that I’m saying you are ghetto… but you maintain an awareness that you are black. Do you think the other two sit at their desk and read theybf , bossip, and media take out every morning… NO. They are on Perez Hilton. If we were to go ask them about what was going on in black pop culture… THEY WOULD HAVE NO CLUE. They probably don’t even know what BET stands for.” (when keeping it real goes wrong… but I got what she was saying)
Me “You are inaccurate… I do read Perez Hilton… It’ just not at the top of my blog chain! But, you do bring up a good point… and I can see from a white prospective as to why I was selected to cover this event. Now, give me some dap and let’s go get some chicken!”
Everyone in the room begins to laugh… but even then I was still upset about the situation. I grabbed my phone and went to 3 way my parents.
Dad “Ghetto Awards? They have those? ”
Mom “Are you getting overtime for this?”
Me “Yes….”
Dad “Well, I suggest you do it and go make some money because your rent is 1,000 a month!”
Me “Dad! I am offended on behalf of all black journalist who have been fighting to be treated and seen as equals in this industry. Oh I’ll do the story… so that perhaps one day some black girl like me will not have to cover the Ghetto Awards!”
Dad (in his best color purple voice) “ALL MY LIFE I’VE HAD TO FIGHT!”
Me “ Father…..I am not amused! But, I’ll call yall back when I get off work.”
I get back to my desk and my research boss (who is black) calls me into her office. She was in there with another black employee.
Me “I’m covering an event tomorrow!” (I just wanted to see what some seasoned professionals response was going to be to this.)
Research boss “Great! Where are you going!”
Me “The Ghetto Awards! (I then break out in a little version of the chicken noodle soap dance)
Black employee “I thought the BET awards were in LA?” (she was serious with that)
Me “I’m not talking about the BET awards… This is an event called Ghetto Awards… here in New York!”
Both black women “What the hell? Why are we even covering that!”
Black employee “I hope you mean you are covering an event for the Ghetto Film School. It’s a program that provides grants and scholarships to students who are passionate about creating short films and documentaries. They’re out of the Bronx and hold an awards ceremony every year around this time... sometimes they get a celebrity to speak.”
Me “All I was told was that I was covering the Ghetto Awards and I was the token chosen to go.”
Black employee “Yea, when your editor gives you your tip sheet in the morning… make sure it is Ghetto Film School and not Ghetto Awards…. Cause if you really are covering something called the Ghetto Awards… I have a problem with that.” (insert three snaps and a neck roll)
The next day in the reporters cave
Chi-town “Morning, Interesting choice to wear to the ghetto awards.”
Me “Were you expecting me to look like I was going to the Flav of Love casting call? Sorry girl, My blue jean Baby Phat cat suit is dirty.”
We both start laughing. I was wearing a kaki high wasted pencil skirt and white BCBG racer back tank that had some gold and silver jewels on it. I made sure there was a little bling on the shirt so I could relate to the people.
By this time I was at my desk and was about to open an email in my inbox subject line: “Ghetto information” (–sigh- my editor is a trip).
To be continued………
Stay tuned for more about the actual event, my interview with the Beastie Boys and Hip-hop Mogul Damon Dash, and the drunk woman who wanted to turn me into her house negro.
2 comments:
Jess~
I love reading your stories. I can always count on a laugh! I think someone should be offering you a TV show soon! I can not wait to hear the rest of the story!
lol at your daddy :-) can't wait to read the rest!
-ashley danielle
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