conjuring nina

Last weekend when my girl Lynn and I went to check out the African World Festival in Detroit, I told her I was "conjuring Nina Simone." I had forked out my fro and draped a floor-length sundress over my sunbrown frame. I was looking good and feeling really diva-ish, ya know.

But conjuring Nina is more than a matter of style. Cultural critic Mark Anthony Neal posted this piece recently that acknowledges Simone's impact on our [the hip hop] generation. Lauren Hill, Talib Kweli, and Common have evoked Nina either verbally or through sampling. To be sure, Nina's music transcends time and generation.

But for me, growing up a dark-skinned girl in a Eurocentric environment, Nina was [and still is] also visual reminder of fierce, unadulterated black beauty and bravery. She was outspoken, or as Neal describes, "ornery," and unapologetic about it. I'm so grateful to have seen her perform before she passed on. Between intermissions, she would saunter onto the stage with her head held high and command the awe she so deserved. When I think about the model of black womanhood she represents for us "women of a certain age," I feel a little sad for the black girls coming up today (some who have no idea who Nina Simone is: I know, I asked my students). Whenever I'm feeling "less-than..." I'm glad I can conjure Nina, tilt my head high, fork out my fro and get my strut on.