Black Representation in French Media: How can we make it better for the invisible blacks in France?
- Enchante' Malakie
- Mar 31, 2018
- 3 min read
Updated: May 3, 2018
Paris took parts of me and nurtured me like a fresh blooming flower on the first day of spring. She lifted my head with her finger pointed towards light and showed me a different side of black invisibility. I found the experience delightful to every dimension in my eyes. Sure, I’d seen fancy art before, but none captured my heart through the third dimension of my eyes. None had ever high jacked me mentally and opted my capacity to breathe. None like these hidden, taken and recovered pieces of African history had ever moved about my bones and chilled them. Sweet Paris gave me this light, it was Paris who gave me back my torch. A torch that would lead me to these angelic like instruments and black hand carved pieces of our ancestors and their magical creations. I didn’t have to go far to see a reflection of me standing and staring back at myself. I didn’t have to close my eyes to see them or hear them whispering sounds of warriors. I not only saw the handmade drums, I heard them. I felt the vibration of every instrument that my eyes touched. These instruments were no longer invisible to me. They were no longer a mere fragment of my imagination. My body was standing outside of the window tasting freedom but my soul had entered beyond these glass walls and smelled the sweet sweat that dripped all over these African tools.
(100 Afrocentric Pieces)
Paris, France
Spring 2018
I entered a third dimension and fell into the realm of my ancestor’s stories. Through the first 100 pieces, I felt Senegal bubbling inside of my belly, I felt home. Paris held a familiar nurturing place in my heart. Had I visited this place in a time which this Country was filled with great Gods and Goddesses. Their remnants and spirits still moved about the beautiful museums. Monuments hold them, the seine river moves their spirits, the tourist remembers their stories while the Eiffel Tower overlooks them, yet they are still invisible and remain unseen in the media.
Moving through the colorblindness
In France it matters what side of colorblindness you fall on to see what is considered invisible and visible. On the other side you see black people, some natives of France and some are not. Some confusion lies in their daily identities. They hold deep to certain cultural beliefs. In a way they have kept themselves invisible. Until now, there is a new generation of blacks in France who refuse to go another decade invisible in media. They are learning more and more about themselves and the world around them. They are branching out through cinema, this seems somewhat hermeneutical. They are asking more questions. They are looking deeper into the nature of their stories through media points of views.
Moving through the colorblindness together.
It takes a team to move through black invisibility in France.
From black and white to visibility and voice.
When we come together, we make black representation visible in media. When we remember the lost and the found pieces of history, we are telling our stories and setting a foundation for the coming generations. Through our lived experiences we are able to shine light on the invisible blacks in French media because we were there and we walked among the meek and invisible blacks in France.
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