The Fear Behind a Question: A Look at Microaggression and its Effects Through Claudia Rankine’s Citizen

Section three of Claudia Rankine’s Citizen is centered around the narrator’s response to microaggressions and racism, much like section one, but in this section, rather than laying down and taking it, the narrator chooses to mildly oppose it.  “Mildly” is the key word here, since the narrator is taking a stand against the words and actions of her aggressors, and yet still isn’t truly lashing out, isn’t truly laying her feelings bare in the face of her aggressors.  Through the use of questions, the narrator draws attention to the microaggressions that plague her, perhaps drawing pause from those who, either intentionally or not, wronged her, and yet, in the end, the narrator finds herself questioning her own motives and her own life once more, implying that simply posing a question is not enough to make a social construct crumble.  

One of the first key examples of this is in the anecdote where someone at work calls “you” by the wrong name, in which Rankine writes, “Yes, and in your mail the apology note appears to referring to ‘our mistake.’ Apparently your own invisibility is the real problem causing her confusion. This is how the apparatus she propels you into begins to multiply in meaning./ What did you say?” (43). Even though the coworker apologized for the senseless mix up, the “apology” didn’t actually get to the brunt of the matter, and instead seemed to apologize for the fact that “you” weren’t more recognizable to her, that “you” were too “invisible,”  that “you” didn’t make an impression strong enough to be differentiated from an entirely different human being. It is implied that when the initial mistake was made, the narrator raised enough fuss that the woman felt the need to apologize for what she did, and yet, the actually apology showed that the coworker didn’t learn anything from her microaggression. And then, instead of pursuing her justice, instead of confronting the coworker on her empty apology, the narrator is left questioning herself, trying to figure out what it was that she did that made herself so invisible. Although not allowing the initial microaggression go unnoticed was certainly a step in the right direction, especially in comparison to the first section, the narrator’s failure to continue this front, to pursue the apology she rightly deserves, shows how standing up for yourself once in awhile will not change the world.  Instead, it will result in a white woman writing you an unfeeling “apology” letter that places blame for her prejudice on your shoulders, as if the coworker was saying, “Is this enough to get you to shut up?” instead of “Is this enough to let you know I’m truly sorry?”

The final anecdote from this section is one that both seeks and denies passivity.  The narrator’s friend (who, although not defined in the actual text, is most likely white) says that she simply “…refuses to carry what doesn’t belong to her,” (55).  This represents a notion that carries the same feeling as nihilism; that if it doesn’t pertain to you as a specific, agency-driven individual, then you should simply forget it, ignore it, move on, as it doesn’t really matter.  Although this is a point of view likely achieved by only those who needn’t worry about the constraints of racism, the narrator still seems as if she wants to achieve this outlook on life, as if she’s decided by the end of the section that it’s better to ignore microaggressions rather than seek to rectify them.  With almost a wistful tone, Rankine writes, “You take in things you don’t want all the time. The second you hear or see some ordinary moment, all its intended targets, all the meaning behind the retreating seconds, as far as you are able to see, come into focus. Hold up, did you just hear, did you just say, did you just see, did you just do that?” (55).  The “you” that begins this section bears an almost accusatory bite, as if the narrator accuses them self of going too far, of exaggerating too much, of reading between the lines to the extent where pretty much anything can be perceived. And yet, all the instances the narrator has pointed out earlier have been valid, obvious examples of microaggressions. It’s as if the narrator has grown tired of calling others out, receiving a small apology, but then being ignored or looked over once more, so instead of continuing her small rebellions, she turns her aggression further inward. Her barrage of questions asking herself, “did you just hear, did you just say, did you just see, did you just do that?” (55) shows how the narrator has turned her anger towards herself; asking herself to change instead of the world.  

Questions:

1. What are some ways you take the blame in your own life?  What are some instances where you’ve transferred someone else’s mistake onto yourself?

2. Recently, there have been several prevalent examples of microaggressions happening towards black women in America.  Since we’ve already talked about Serena Williams in class, what are some other ones we haven’t mentioned yet? How did those examples play into stereotypes at large?