Negro [ney-groh]
noun: a river in NW South America, flowing SE from E Colombia through N Brazil into the Amazon. 2255 km long.
adjective: Anthropology. (no longer in technical use) of, relating to, or characteristic of one of the traditional racial divisions of humankind, generally marked by brown to black skin pigmentation, dark eyes, and tightly curled hair and including especially the indigenous peoples of Africa south of the Sahara.
Extra Negro [ek-struh ney-groh]
noun: a kind of minstrel show put on by negroes.
adjective: negro, amped.
You know how dogs can hear a really high-pitched noise that humans can’t hear? Extra Negroes must speak at an absurdly high decibel if they want other Extra Negroes to hear them.
This year, for Christmas, I gathered with my family at my mom’s house — mom, dad, brother, sister-in-law, my grandma, my aunt, 19-year-old cousin, and some people I apparently met at some point in Michigan.
We were so loud that my dog seemed to be barking to make sure she could still make a noise. There was talk of how we should have a family reunion.
Grandma: Ain’t no reunion.
Mom: Too lazy.
Extra Negro.
So much Honey, Child in the room, the company that sells the honey in that creepy little bear should have used us for a new ad campaign.
My brother’s buttermilk biscuit/maple syrup sandwich?
Extra Negro.
Mom, to my aunt: Remember those sugar sandwiches back on Regent Street?
Aunt, with food in her mouth: Mmm. (Don’t know if that was for the memory of the sugar sandwich or the ham she currently had in her mouth.)
The most Extra Negro part of Christmas? It wasn’t even Christmas. It was three days later. For no reason.
For those of you who haven’t experienced the Extra Negro phenomenon, understand that it isn’t exclusively for holidays. My mom, said aunt, brother, and I once checked into at a Hampton Inn. I, drowsing from Dramamine, fell asleep. Apparently, they watched While You Were Sleeping with Sandra Bullock.
Fairly non-negro.
Mom wakes me up a couple hours later. We’d been kicked out of the hotel because we were making too much noise while watching While You Were Sleeping. The fact that I could sleep through that noise?
Extra Negro.
Here’s the thing about stereotypes/standardized and generalized conceptions of people:
They’re pretty spot-on. At least ours is. Black people are usually loud, often fast, rarely still when there’s music playing, and definitely can’t keep their arms out of the air if said music is James Brown. It’s that simple. Don’t be mad. Think about it.
I could go academic Extra Negro and talk about race and the performance of race and ethnicity, and phrenology and physiognomy, and cultural appropriation.
But who gives a shit?
Remember Ebonics? I am = I is. They are = Dey is. I was kind of disappointed that it never really took. It’d be cool if Extra Negro had its own language (the kind that really needs translation), its own TV channel (VH1 and its Love and Hip Hop don’t count, because a Maroon Five song often creeps up on you in the middle of the night). Or even its own academic discipline. Not African-American Studies or African-American History.
Introduction to Today’s Negro.
Happy New Year to all the Extra Negroes out there. Raise your pimp’s cup after filling it with Alizé, Courvoisier, or Boone’s Farm. Don’t go with Colt 45. Come on, man. We’ve made progress.
This article appears in Dec 24-30, 2015.