Awkward Black Girl - The Misadventures of Awkward Black Girl

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Copyright 2015 by Issa Rae Productions, Inc.

This work reflects the authors present recollection of her experiences over a period of years. Certain names, locations, and identifying characteristics have been changed.

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First 37 Ink/Atria Books hardcover edition February 2015

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Interior design by Meryll Rae Preposi

Jacket design by Laywan Kwan

Jacket photograph by Blake Little

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available.

ISBN 978-1-4767-4905-1

ISBN 978-1-4767-4909-9 (ebook)

Contents

To Mom, Dad, Amadou, Malick, Lamine, Elize, Meme, and Papa.

Introduction

M y name is Jo-Issa Rae Diop and Ive always wanted a nickname. For the first twelve years of my life, none of my friends were lazy enough to shorten the pronunciation of my name, or affectionately bold enough to replace my name with an entirely new word, like Cocoa or Jollyrancher. Because every cool person I knew had a nickname, I decided not to wait on anyone to do me the honor. So in the fourth grade, when a substitute teacher came to take the place of Ms. Osei, I took the opportunity to publicly anoint myself with a new lovable identity. I waited as the teacher called roll, for once excited about the impending mispronunciation (if it wasnt my first name, it was always my last name). She couldnt get to the Ds fast enough. This time, Id not only correct her, but Id intervene with a name that was both easy to pronounce and fun and adventurous, just like me.

Joe-EYE-suh... uh, DIE-OP? she asked, pretending to look through the sea of white kids to find my ethnic ass.

Here! Its Jo-EEE-SUH JOPE, but my friends call me... Sloppy Jo. I chuckled as I looked around the class, waiting for the high-fives and acknowledgment from my classmates that never came. All that accompanied my announcement was my own laugh, and two seconds of silence as the teacher looked at me and nodded, processing the ridiculousness of my suggestion.

Right. Jo-E-SUH, the sub continued. Sarah Dotson?

Here, Sarah said.

Hot with regret at my blatant attempt to rebrand myself, I sat, defeated, as the teacher continued down the sheet of names. I had conceived my new nickname the previous Friday, after a delicious school lunch. One part self-depreciative humor and one part clever wordplay, the name seemed perfect. Now that nobody had so much as looked in my direction after my made-up proclamation, I just felt silly. Who wants to be sloppy anyway? That teacher probably saved herself from a lawsuit. Can you imagine calling the sole black girl in the class sloppy? Good for her indifference. Im thankful for it. What an absolutely stupid and embarrassing nickname from a painfully childish mind. (If I could go back in time and slap all of the idiocy out of my mouth, I would be a busy time traveler.)

Where my first name has been an individual struggle, my last name has, appropriately, been a family battle. Having spent some of my youth in Senegal or around Senegalese people in America, I never could have imagined that my monosyllabic family name would have so many alternate, incorrect variations. Theres DIE-OP, DEE-OP, DIP, JIP, JOP, and my personal favorite, DEE-POH.

In high school, I found no burden in correcting people. It wasnt their fault that they didnt know, and there was no harm done. My annoyance would emerge when people would take it upon themselves to correct me in the pronunciation of my own name ! It would go something like this:

DEE-OP?

Oh, its pronounced Jope, as in rhymes with hope, I would say with a smile.

But... its spelled D-I-O-P. Dee-op, they would say with confused indignation.

Yeah, I know. Its still JOPE.

Oh... kay, theyd hesitantly resign.

This happened way more frequently than it should have, and I couldnt for the life of me figure out why. Until one person I went back and forth with for far too long maintained that her doctors last name was the same as mine and he pronounced it DEE-OP. I rolled my eyes. Just forget it, I would have said, except her doctor was none other than my father. What the heck, Dad? Family pride, much?

My dad is a mini-celebrity in South Central, on account that his Inglewood clinic has his name in big white letters on the rectangular brick building that lines Manchester Boulevard, one of the major streets in the area (my high school bus actually passed the building on its route). I went to high school in South Central, on the border of Compton and Watts, where many of my classmates claimed my father as their childhood pediatrician.

Oh, are you related to Dr. Dee-Op on Manchester?

Dr. Diop? Yeah.

No, Dr. Dee-Op.

Its Diop. And yeah.

Oh... kay... If you say so...

I confronted my dad about this one day after school.

Dad, why are you telling people our last name is Dee-Op?

Because theyll mess it up anyway, he said with a shrug.

But you have to correct them!

I got tired of correcting them, he calmly retorted.

I shook my head. How could I properly defend my name if the man with the accent himself wouldnt co-sign it?

I did eventually get that nickname I so yearned for, though it came much later, in my early twenties. I was wall-to-wall chatting on Facebook with Kisha, one of my good friends from college. After four years of friendship, she randomly decided to address me as Issa Rae with no warning whatsoever. After my dear Aunt Rae passed in January of 2008, I had changed my name on Facebook from Jo-Issa Diop to include my middle name, Rae, in her honor. Kisha had no idea she had given me both a new way to honor the memory of my aunt and an alter ego for my creative endeavors, though I didnt realize it until I was brainstorming names for my blog and the name Issa Rae flashed before me. Initially, I wanted a clever name, like JoDi (a rap alias I used with my younger brother) or FloJo, the Filmmaker. But I also needed a name that could house all of my creative work, films included. Issa Rae as an alias was just the thing, as it was way cooler than Jo-IssaRaeDiop.com and would protect me, in case I ever needed to get a real job. All the trash I talked online would be traced back to Issa Rae and the HR departments would be none the wiser. Plus, the name Issa, though still easy to mispronounce, was way more visually digestible than Jo-Issa.

All this to say, in this book, youll see my government name referenced a lot. I only started referring to myself as Issa Rae in 2008, and so all stories prior to that will reference my birth name. Deal with it.