Stupid Black Girl: Essays from an American African

by Aisha Redux

Redux explores common themes to her experience of existing in a Western country as a West African. Born to two parents who immigrated from Africa, Redux faces the world in a way she deems alienaying yet powerful. She covers themes such as spirituality, mental health, and sexuality as it is interlaced with her experiences of racism and misogyny.

Genres: Nonfiction, Essays, Feminism

160 pages, Paperback

First published June 30, 2020

Reviews

[Nikita Imafidon · Rating 4 out of 5]

"I've seen so many white people cry over a dead animal before they shed a tear or voice outrage over a slain Black body."

[Tashay · Rating 4 out of 5]

I picked up “Stupid Black Girl,” to get back in the groove after a reading slump. I was drawn to this book based on the gorgeous cover and provocative title, and have found the essays just as engaging. In “Stupid Black Girl,” Aisha Redux reflects on the complexities of existing in a Western society with a West African background. A reminder that people of African descent are not a monolith and have very different experiences of race and culture across the diaspora.

Aisha’s story is told through essays with themes of race, religion and spirituality, sexuality, and mental health. A few that stood out to me:

“Djibril”— Djibril, Aisha’s cousin, has a mental breakdown; West Africans label it possession by an evil spirit while Western medicine calls it schizophrenia. He’s healed through some combination of plant medicine and hospitalization. Aisha poses the question what if we focused more on how these treatments overlap and interact than trying to disprove either of them?

“Tower Terrors” — on 9/11, Aisha was 15 years old living in NYC. She and a friend were headed to school when they saw the towers collapse, which triggered her PTSD. She was initially reluctant to seek therapy because it was at odds with West African culture.

“Les Cousins” — an essay about the distancing that some Africans participate in to distinguish themselves from African Americans and the fraught relationship between the two cultures.

There are a few more essays worthy of an honorable mention, like “Blood and Soil.” Overall I appreciated Aisha’s honesty, enjoyed her essays and learned a lot. One thing that I would’ve loved is an outro essay to tie together all of her thoughts.

[Carey Calvert · Rating 5 out of 5]

There's a scene in the 1993 film, Sugar Hill, with Wesley Snipes and Michael Wright, who portray brothers, and wish to do business with their African brethren; however the Nigerians cannot do business with akata, "We can't work with akata." As described in the film, 'akata' means "Black American. Cotton Picker."

Upon hearing this definition, Wesley summarily head butts the poor messenger.

In Aisha Redux', "Stupid Black Girl," I often felt her own head butts, as the knowledge imparted therein, left me with many welts. She also speaks to akata, as this notion of African superiority, she too confronts, if not dispels entirely.

Informative, eye-opening, even cleansing at times, these words do not thoroughly describe how relatable her views are to what is happening in our country. See the chapters entitled Blood and Soil regarding white nationalism, and Burnt Out, an expose on gentrification.

What Aisha wants is dialogue - and throughout she struggles mightily to engage; however, this inability to do so is not necessarily of her own accord. What's refreshing is that she faces up to her own shortcomings and holds herself just as accountable, citing her own trauma and misgivings; not as excuses, but rather insight.

Nevertheless, in All This Talking Shit, she also knows how important it is to save one's breath.

Two caveats:"Stupid Black Girl" is a moniker she embraced and decided to run with it - don't underestimate her or how dare you even possess the audacity to do so, is the moral of that story. The second is that she describes herself as an American African; born and raised in NYC, first generation, with African roots that also inform, perhaps to a greater degree, how she lives her life - this was the first head butt.

On a personal level, the chapters Brown, which speaks to identity, and MisogyNIGHT, which speaks to the penchant of black men to seek others rather than the black woman, "when N, ya mama's Black too," along with an examination of "Black female desirability and beauty as social capital," were awe-inspiring as well.

Aisha stated she wrote this book to heal, and by reopening her wounds for us to almost revel in - not all her essays are somber, she writes with elements of humility and engagement, asking questions, seeking understanding and she knows where to impart humor - hers is a voice I will actively seek out for years to come.

[Echo · Rating 4 out of 5]

Now. Before I begin, I should acknowledge that I am a white person. This book wasn't really written for me. But I appreciated this book and am very glad to have read it. Here are the things I really liked:

1. It made me think.
Every idea she shared made me think. The speaking about sexuality really connected to me in a way I didn't expect, so I thought more about my spirituality. It has really helped me to feel a lot more connected to my spiritual self because it helped me to even think more about being spiritual. I was very grateful for that.

2. She changed between casual and professional tones.
She didn't stick to just one voice. She changed between a more distant and professional tone of voice in one essay and a more personal, friendly, casual voice in other essays. Sometimes, she would even change between tones within the same essay. I liked how naturally (or seemingly naturally) she did that.

3. I liked her way of being boldly herself.
This came out in celebration of Black identity, anger about unjust things in American society, claiming things like the words "stupid Black girl" for herself, cussing unapologetically, talking openly about her failed relationships, being open about her spiritual journey, and every other thing she covered in her essays. I like how proud she is in herself. I hope to one day have power like that and confidence in myself.

I definitely recommend this book, and I am so glad to have read it.

- Echo (they/xe) ⚧️

[Samuel]

This one was a little all over the place to me. Parts of it were fascinating -- I came away from reading the sections that dealt with the relationship between African and African American Black populations feeling like I'd really learned some intriguing things I didn't know before. Other parts were harder for me -- it's possibly a personal bias, but any author who approvingly cites Napoleon Hill and Paolo Cuelho when discussing spirituality is going to be tough sledding for me. At any rate, the book is a pretty quick read, so if the author or the ideas are of interest to you, it's probably worth picking up.

[Carissa · Rating 5 out of 5]

A deliciously crass, unforgiving examination of melanin, lust, and personal growth; Redux’s Stupid Black Girl is an accessible but blunt collection of essays. I couldn’t help but mark up the pages: underlining and bracketing passages that echoed my own sentiments or challenged my privileged perception. I LOVED Redux’s reminders that, although she’d chosen to outline some of her thoughts and experiences as the daughter of African immigrants, she owed her white readers no consideration or explanation. No forgiveness. “...I had to suppress all my thoughts to coddle and accommodate a collective white fragility” no more!

[Dani · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book wasn't written for me, a white woman. And yet it's one of the best books I've read this year and one of my favorites. It's insightful, raw, honest, and very timely. I think it is vital for Black women because it gives such power and wisdom and strength back to them that they deserve. I found myself underlining so many great lines and truths Redux drops so effortlessly. I cherish what I learned and gained from Aisha's personal essays and receive them as a gift of yet another perspective I'd otherwise never get the chance to know. I'll be recommending this one to friends and family.

[Syvehlla · Rating 4 out of 5]

Great book. I really enjoyed reading Aisha's various perspectives on race, colorism, spirituality, gentrification, community, etc. Even if you don't agree 100% with her views, you can't deny that she makes very compelling arguments and sparks deeper thought and self-reflection. I found parts of this book to be inspiring.

[Jennifer · Rating 4 out of 5]

Reading these essays is like hanging out in a cafe with a friend who isn't a really good friend yet, but you're going to get there. She shares her thoughts and experiences in a relatable rather than academic way -- that's a compliment.

[Gabe · Rating 4 out of 5]

I loved this book so much! I really took away a great definition for stupidity, which was to intentionally get in your own way. What a great read and I highly recommend to anyone who has a spiritual life.

[Laura · Rating 2 out of 5]

The author’s stories are deeply personal, so it’s odd to me that she tells them in such a detached and unemotional way. She’s got so many interesting perspectives that I want to support, but she keeps the essays brief, shallow, and clinical, so the overall result is kind of off-putting.

[Alicia]

Reviewing for professional magazine- see review in SLJ.

[anya · Rating 4 out of 5]

As a white woman, this book wasn't written for me, and I think that's an important mindset going into it. The book was very well written, and I loved how Redux flipped from an academic tone to a casual one where she simply expressed her feelings, rather than trying to explain things. It was very insightful to read from the perspective of someone who was not African American, but someone who was raised by African immigrants, and how the experience differs.