Essay - Zora Neale Hurston's How It Feels To Be Colored Me

 

 

In her essay "How It Feels To Be Colored Me," (1928) African-American writer Zora Neale Hurston explores the idea that race is not an inherent trait but rather a social construct that emerges in specific contexts. Hurston begins by recounting her childhood in Eatonville, Florida, a predominantly black town where she did not yet identify as "colored." It was only after moving to Jacksonville and later to New York City that she became aware of her race. However, she also describes moments when she transcends this awareness, when "the cosmic Zora emerges," and she feels a more universal sense of self. Through her personal journey of coming to terms with and at times moving beyond a racialized identity, Hurston challenges the prevailing notion of her time that race is a fixed characteristic that defines an individual's personality, abilities, and destiny. Over time, she gains the confidence to view her race, often used against African-Americans, as a source of strength.

 

Hurston boldly declares that she is "colored," without apology or explanation. Unlike others who might claim distant Native-American ancestry to complicate their racial identity, Hurston straightforwardly accepts her African-American identity. She recalls the day she "became colored" at the age of thirteen, marking a pivotal moment in her life.

 

During the time Hurston wrote, African-Americans faced widespread racial discrimination, not only from individuals but also from institutions in education, finance, and politics. Hurston notes that many African-Americans sought to downplay or exoticize their racial identity to escape this discrimination or to be treated as individuals. The common practice of claiming different ancestry underscores the fluidity and ambiguity of racial identity. Despite this, Hurston chooses to embrace her African-American identity rather than distance herself from it.

 

Hurston challenges the widely held belief that race is a biological or essential trait. By stating that she "became colored," she suggests that race is more a matter of social perception and reinforcement. In other words, she was not "colored" until others made her feel that way.

 

Hurston describes her upbringing in Eatonville, Florida, a thriving all-black community. The only white people she encountered were those passing through on their way to or from Orlando. The townspeople were indifferent to the southern whites on horseback, but northern whites in cars were a spectacle, and many ventured out to the porch to watch them.

 

Hurston's childhood experience highlights how class and geography influence the perception of race. The concept of race is not fixed; it is shaped by other aspects of identity. The distinction between southern whites on horses and northern whites in cars reflects their social class, with the latter seen as more affluent and, therefore, more "foreign." This distinction affected how the black residents of Eatonville perceived and interacted with white visitors.

 

Unlike some who avoided interacting with the white tourists, Hurston enjoyed watching and engaging with them, even walking alongside them as they passed through. She humorously notes that the Chamber of Commerce should have recognized her efforts to welcome the tourists. However, if her family noticed her behavior, she had to stop.

 

Hurston contrasts the confidence of Eatonville residents who observed the white tourists with those who did not. While the white tourists held the power of observation, young Zora reversed this dynamic by treating the tourists as if they were there for her entertainment.

 

As a child, Hurston believed that the only difference between white and black people was that white people were transient, passing through town but never staying. Nevertheless, she would perform for the white tourists, singing and dancing, sometimes receiving a dime in return. This surprised her because performing was something she would do regardless. While the black locals did not pay her for her performances, they still cared for her deeply.

 

Hurston's childhood in an all-black town shielded her from the harsh realities of racism. However, through her performances for the white tourists, she began to recognize a difference: white visitors had money and were willing to pay for art and entertainment. This realization sparked her awareness of the potential financial rewards of artistic expression. In contrast, the black residents of Eatonville did not pay her to sing, but they showed her genuine affection, highlighting the difference between a community and an audience.

 

At thirteen, Hurston's family moved to Jacksonville, Florida, where the community was markedly different. There, she says, she ceased being "Zora" and became a "little colored girl." Along with this new awareness of her race came a heightened sense of scrutiny and control from the community.

 

Hurston's move to Jacksonville marks the beginning of her "colored" life, as this larger, more racially diverse city enforced racial distinctions that Eatonville did not. She feels that she loses her identity as "Zora" and the charmed childhood she had enjoyed, instead being reduced to a representative of a broader racial category. By linking her racial awareness to a change in location at the age of thirteen, Hurston suggests that race is shaped by place and society.

 

Hurston rejects the notion of being "tragically colored," which she defines as cultivating a sense of victimhood over historical injustices. She contrasts herself with other African-Americans who, she claims, feel oppressed by their circumstances. Instead, Hurston asserts that powerful people shape their destinies regardless of race, and she refuses to dwell on past wrongs when she is focused on living life to the fullest.

 

Once again, Hurston distances herself from a prevalent current of African-American thought. Instead of viewing history through the lens of racial oppression, she emphasizes the role of power. While she does not dismiss the horrors of slavery or the reality of racism, she insists that the world is open to her, and that a talented African-American woman can still succeed. Her ambitious outlook contrasts with what she calls the "sobbing school" of African-American thought, leading her to a perspective that downplays the severity of racism and the legacy of slavery.

 

Hurston looks forward, not backward, focusing on the potential for greater freedom and achievement. She criticizes the tendency to overemphasize the legacy of slavery, which she dismisses as "sixty years in the past." She views the centuries of slavery as a necessary sacrifice for African-Americans to gain freedom and opportunity, describing it as "the price paid for civilization."

 

Hurston's view of history is that it is an ongoing journey toward greater black freedom and empowerment, achieved through immense sacrifice. This transactional perspective sharply contrasts with the views of many black thinkers, both then and now, and reflects Hurston's characteristic optimism and self-assurance.

 

Hurston describes her present experience as an adventure and an opportunity for glory. As an African-American, she is viewed by whites as a representative of her race, which raises the stakes for her conduct and achievements. The scrutiny of white America creates a "national" stage on which Hurston can perform.

 

The theme of performance is central to understanding race relations in the 1920s. While white people enjoy the privilege of being treated as individuals, an African-American's actions are often seen as representative of their entire race in the eyes of white America. Although this is generally seen as harmful discrimination, Hurston embraces the attention and views the unpredictable swings of fortune as exciting. Her positive experiences with a white audience in Eatonville have prepared her for the challenges ahead.

 

On the other hand, Hurston notes that her "white neighbor," and white America as a whole, bears the historical guilt of slavery. The "brown specters" and "dark ghosts" of the past haunt the white neighbor, affecting his future. Hurston's task is to claim for herself what her white neighbor strives to keep.

 

Hurston presents a provocative idea: the trajectory of African-American progress is just as important as its current status. She approaches black progress with a gladiator's spirit, eager to win glory and rewards. Her unconventional assessment of the psychological and material conditions of different social groups reveals that while white America may hold most of the wealth and power, its soul is haunted by the legacy of slavery, potentially hindering its future progress.

 

Despite this, Hurston does not always feel "colored." She feels it most acutely in predominantly white spaces like Barnard College in Manhattan, where she studies. There, she feels like a dark rock upon which the white sea crashes, but after the waves recede, the rock remains standing.  

 

Hurston reiterates the idea that "coloredness" is relative, arising in majority-white environments where differences between races are emphasized. She explains why she does not feel "tragically colored." Previously, she felt that being labeled a "little colored girl" erased her identity as Zora. Now, she views her status as a black woman as a source of strength, using the metaphor of a rock to symbolize her resilience and endurance.

 

To illustrate her point, Hurston shares an anecdote about taking a white friend to a black jazz club. As the band plays, she experiences a trance-like state, envisioning herself in a primitive jungle, adorned in tribal paint and wielding a spear. She feels an intense desire to "slaughter" something, to kill and inflict pain. But when the song ends, she returns to "civilization."  In this anecdote, Hurston grapples with the persistent stereotype of African-Americans as primitive and less civilized. She embraces the idea of a tribal, warlike past but does so with poetic and thrilling language, making the less "civilized" life seem more vibrant and alive than modern life. By reclaiming the stereotype, Hurston diminishes its power to harm. This also suggests a deep connection to art, which Hurston views as one of the talents that grants her access and privilege in white environments.

 

While Hurston was in a trance, her friend remained calm, smoking and offering a bland compliment. Hurston perceives him as "across a continent," describing him as "pale with his whiteness," lacking in passion and vitality.  By turning a racist stereotype into an asset, Hurston also challenges the supposed benefits of civilization that white people of her time claimed. She positions herself "across a continent" from her companion.

At times, Hurston feels as though race has no bearing on her identity. She sees herself as a representation of eternal femininity or just a small part of a "Great Soul." When she walks down the street, she feels proud and confident, almost “aristocratic.” While she does encounter racism, she pities those who harbor such views, believing they are missing out on the richness of her company.

Hurston likens herself to a brown bag among bags of different colors—white, yellow, and red. Inside each bag is a mix of extraordinary and ordinary items, like a “first-water diamond” or a “dried flower or two still a little fragrant.” This metaphor illustrates Hurston’s nuanced understanding of race. The bags’ colors represent skin tones and outward appearances, while the diverse contents symbolize the thoughts, memories, emotions, and experiences unique to each person. Although the bags have their own individual collections, the similarities among them highlight that what’s inside is far more significant and intriguing than mere skin color. Hurston suggests that these inner qualities are not dictated by race and that, given the opportunity, non-white people can develop the same experiences and abilities as anyone else.

 

Hurston even imagines that if the bags were emptied and refilled at random, their contents would remain unchanged, emphasizing that race doesn’t determine what’s inside. She speculates that the “Great Stuffer of Bags,” or God, might have distributed these qualities randomly, regardless of race. By proposing that the contents of different-colored bags are alike, Hurston challenges the notion that skin color dictates a person’s abilities or character. Although her idea that God distributed these traits without regard to race might have been seen as controversial in her time, Hurston presents it as a logical and reasonable perspective.