Uppity

During the first half of the administration of Barack Obama, I read in a New York Times column that the first black president of the United States was viewed by many Republicans as “arrogant” and even “uppity”. I was glad that the columnist went there. I’ve been there, too.

In the early 1980s, I had a discussion with an older white female who I shall call Red. She was a buyer of photos for a major publishing company in Manhattan which employed us both. I had a full-time job in the editorial department but I also worked outside of my regular job as a freelance photographer. I did not report to Red at all in my official work even though I sold photographs as an independent freelancer to her since she was the company representative for such transactions. The purchase of my photos was part of the company’s goal to build an archive of images for repeated use in textbooks without further fee or permission. It was also extra cheap for them since I was not being paid the same rate as other photographers.

One day we were talking about some photos I had taken that had been accepted into the company’s archive. I stated to Red in a clear but non-aggressive manner my perspective about the creative work I was contributing that I knew she valued a great deal. Her reply, with annoyance, was that I was being “uppity”.

I was momentarily shocked at her statement and the revelation behind it. Red had never mentioned anything before that carried overt racial messages toward me. But she knew exactly what she was saying in her blunt remark, as did I.

The very idea that I thought my opinion counted, let alone as an equal to other (invariably white) photographers or to her, was too much for her. Red felt that I had been privileged to receive the work and now, by expressing my opinion, I was stepping outside my “place”. My importance was very low, not because of the work I performed but because of who I was racially. Calling me “uppity” meant I was not being subservient enough. She was reminding me of my skin color.

We both knew that Red would never have uttered that word to anyone else in the office. I was the only black employee and the only person she called uppity. It was her way of slapping me in the face.

Instead, Red succeeded only in telling me who she really was and the non-work related issue that I was really dealing with. She gave me a new view of herself that in my eyes forever diminished her. Red showed me that such racial views may lie hidden for a long time but sooner or later they will surface. The truth and reality of it will become clear.

I continued to work for the company but also for others as I expanded my client list. It gave me growing independence that led eventually to my leaving the company. I enhanced my skills and advanced further during the rest of my multifaceted career. I went on to produce significant photographs that Red was never able to add to the company’s collection. I did not remain in my place. That was not her view of the correct order of things. But despite her racist admonishing, I rose anyway. I was uppity, thankfully.

NU9308

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