Read Online Playing by the Rules: A Novel by Elaine Meryl Brown - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Elaine Meryl Brown
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Billy, quit now. Behave yourself.”
“NBFO stands for National Black Feminist Organization,” said Louise finally.
“I should have known that’s what it was about,” said Billy. “Something boring. Who cares?”
“Since when did colored women become feminists?” asked Ole Miss Johnson, intrigued by the notion, trying not to let the pain of sitting upright in a chair reflect in the sound of her voice. Nana nodded her head in agreement, but stopped when she realized she was taking sides with her neighbor.
“Since Flo Kennedy founded the Feminist Party in 1971 and Eleanor Holmes Norton helped start the NBFO in November last year,” declared Louise, who cringed whenever she heard the word “colored” and flinched at the word “Negro,” but accepted the fact that old folks might never get used to the change of labels. Although that wasn’t the worst of it. What really sent her over the top was being called Afro-American, because she couldn’t imagine a race of people being named after a hairstyle.
“Flo who? Ain’t she the one from New York City who wears those big pink sunglasses and a cowboy hat?” asked Sadie, who suddenly became more interested in her mashed potatoes andasked Bootsie to pass her the gravy. Smiling, she thanked him with a grin that showed as many teeth in her mouth as there were keys on a piano.
“Did she say Kennedy?” asked Bootsie, who was slightly hard of hearing despite being a tenor in the Pursuit of Happiness Jubilee Choir. “Which one is she talking about, John F., Robert, or Ted?” He leaned in closer to Sadie so he could hear her response.
“Flo,” said Sadie.
“Who’s that?” Bootsie looked confused.
“I believe she’s a black feminist.” Sadie was anxious to get back to being occupied with her mashed potatoes.
“Oh,” said Bootsie, as if he finally understood. Then he contemplated the idea. “We got them now too?” Perplexed by the concept of black women and feminism, which seemed like a contradiction in terms to him, he became confused all over again and decided to focus on his food.
“Oh, yeah. That’s right. She’s that lawyer, ain’t she?” recalled Vernelle, getting back her memory. “Always cracking jokes while taking care of business. That’s what they say.”
“Both these women along with several others decided to organize the NBFO, to get equal rights for women,” added Louise.
“I don’t know why they bothered,” said Ole Miss Johnson, squeezing out her words with whatever air she could force out her lungs through her cracked ribs. “If you ask me, ain’t no colored women being oppressed by colored men.”
“I don’t know why colored women need to separate themselves from the men to begin with,” said Theola, directing her comment to Clement, trapping him with her eyes.
“One reason for the need for separation between the sexes is that women overall still get paid less than men,” said Louise.
“You get paid pretty well as head librarian, don’t you, dear?” asked Nana.
“This is not a complaint about my salary, Nana. I’m just talking in general. But I’ve always wondered, if they put a man in my spot…let’s say, you, for instance, Billy.” Louise turned to her brother. “They’d be more likely to pay you more money.”
“Damn skippy, they’d pay me more money. Because I’d be worth it. No offense, Sister, but I’d better get paid a higher salary than you. I got a wife to take care of, and at some point in the near future, kids to feed, Lord willing.” Billy nodded his head as if agreeing with himself.
“See what I mean? That’s exactly my point!” Louise exclaimed. “The Department of Labor statistics show that women are more reliable and absent less frequently than men in the work force. But the status quo thinks the same way Billy does, and that’s not fair, which is why we need an NBFO.”
“Don’t get yourself riled up over nothing, young lady,” Granddaddy mumbled to his plate. “You
“NBFO stands for National Black Feminist Organization,” said Louise finally.
“I should have known that’s what it was about,” said Billy. “Something boring. Who cares?”
“Since when did colored women become feminists?” asked Ole Miss Johnson, intrigued by the notion, trying not to let the pain of sitting upright in a chair reflect in the sound of her voice. Nana nodded her head in agreement, but stopped when she realized she was taking sides with her neighbor.
“Since Flo Kennedy founded the Feminist Party in 1971 and Eleanor Holmes Norton helped start the NBFO in November last year,” declared Louise, who cringed whenever she heard the word “colored” and flinched at the word “Negro,” but accepted the fact that old folks might never get used to the change of labels. Although that wasn’t the worst of it. What really sent her over the top was being called Afro-American, because she couldn’t imagine a race of people being named after a hairstyle.
“Flo who? Ain’t she the one from New York City who wears those big pink sunglasses and a cowboy hat?” asked Sadie, who suddenly became more interested in her mashed potatoes andasked Bootsie to pass her the gravy. Smiling, she thanked him with a grin that showed as many teeth in her mouth as there were keys on a piano.
“Did she say Kennedy?” asked Bootsie, who was slightly hard of hearing despite being a tenor in the Pursuit of Happiness Jubilee Choir. “Which one is she talking about, John F., Robert, or Ted?” He leaned in closer to Sadie so he could hear her response.
“Flo,” said Sadie.
“Who’s that?” Bootsie looked confused.
“I believe she’s a black feminist.” Sadie was anxious to get back to being occupied with her mashed potatoes.
“Oh,” said Bootsie, as if he finally understood. Then he contemplated the idea. “We got them now too?” Perplexed by the concept of black women and feminism, which seemed like a contradiction in terms to him, he became confused all over again and decided to focus on his food.
“Oh, yeah. That’s right. She’s that lawyer, ain’t she?” recalled Vernelle, getting back her memory. “Always cracking jokes while taking care of business. That’s what they say.”
“Both these women along with several others decided to organize the NBFO, to get equal rights for women,” added Louise.
“I don’t know why they bothered,” said Ole Miss Johnson, squeezing out her words with whatever air she could force out her lungs through her cracked ribs. “If you ask me, ain’t no colored women being oppressed by colored men.”
“I don’t know why colored women need to separate themselves from the men to begin with,” said Theola, directing her comment to Clement, trapping him with her eyes.
“One reason for the need for separation between the sexes is that women overall still get paid less than men,” said Louise.
“You get paid pretty well as head librarian, don’t you, dear?” asked Nana.
“This is not a complaint about my salary, Nana. I’m just talking in general. But I’ve always wondered, if they put a man in my spot…let’s say, you, for instance, Billy.” Louise turned to her brother. “They’d be more likely to pay you more money.”
“Damn skippy, they’d pay me more money. Because I’d be worth it. No offense, Sister, but I’d better get paid a higher salary than you. I got a wife to take care of, and at some point in the near future, kids to feed, Lord willing.” Billy nodded his head as if agreeing with himself.
“See what I mean? That’s exactly my point!” Louise exclaimed. “The Department of Labor statistics show that women are more reliable and absent less frequently than men in the work force. But the status quo thinks the same way Billy does, and that’s not fair, which is why we need an NBFO.”
“Don’t get yourself riled up over nothing, young lady,” Granddaddy mumbled to his plate. “You
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