Did You Hear About Kitty Karr?

by Crystal Smith Paul

Half of the work that is done in the world Is to make things appear what they are not. —E. R. BEADLE

Physical proximity would force the closeness that only a shared childhood could bring.

Elise could mimic emotions she didn’t feel on command but had no ability to express the ones that were true.

Public conspiracy theories had exploded after news leaked that Kitty bequeathed her entire fortune—about six hundred million dollars—to Elise and her sisters, Giovanni and Noele.

Why had the White Hollywood icon given her fortune to the Black (“Black” being the key word) daughters of her costar in a sitcom that first aired almost fifty years ago? Some came right out and asked it, and social media was a cauldron of racist epithets; it was Meghan Markle hysteria times three.

Elise was lighter than her parents, sisters, and most of her extended family due to the common sprinkles of Whiteness on the family trees of many Black Americans, resulting in unexpected characteristics that sometimes just cropped up. These reminders appeared in every generation, causing tremors, triggering the spaces of the blended race.

Kitty started hearing knocks late at night on her walls and front door, as if someone was trying to get in. “She told me it was death, and that she wasn’t afraid to die.”

The pain that you’ve been feeling can’t compare to the joy that’s coming.

With one’s attention turned outward, one forgets one’s own ability to harness understanding of the truth.

They weren’t godly, or else they wouldn’t have been so cruel.

White men were as much of a threat to Negro women and girls as they were to Negro men and boys. Instead of lynching, the Negro female body could be snatched to satisfy some White men or boys’ curiosity, frustration, or lust.

Hazel had learned, after her family died, not to ask people questions she didn’t want to be asked herself.

The description of what a life should be.” “What’s that?” “Time spent doing nothing in particular.”

People hated her, but still she drew all the attention in the room, a power she didn’t yet know she possessed.

The moment reminded Hazel that no matter how fair Mary was, she wasn’t White. Her innocence couldn’t be protected. The world forced Negro girls to mature faster than anyone else; the ugliness in the world was inflicted upon them first.

“They can serve as a reminder.” “Of slavery?” “No, of who you going to be. There are two types of people in this world, Mary: people with time to sit under the trees, looking up at the sky and pondering life”—she jostled the gold balls in her hand—“and those who end up hanging from those same trees, looking down on the life they might have had, had they been born different. You were born different, by the grace of God, so you get to choose. Choose the gold-earring life.”

“Mary has to sit in the back of the bus, too, you know. She’s a pupil at this school, instead of the shiny White one, cause I’m her momma. She can’t help that. Shame on you.”

It was a gamble, but it would make for a good memory, important in a time that felt so wistfully orchestrated.

Behind closed doors, Hazel and Adelaide talked about White folks like dogs. Everyone did.

“People can tell you they love you three times a day and still treat you any kind of way when it really comes down to it.” Knowing it was the Lakeses who made sure they had food on the table, Mary assumed that meant yes.

When people don’t like themselves, it makes them mean. You understand?”

Maybe manners were just Colored rules.

Lillian didn’t comment. She prided herself on her family’s upper-class history and was embarrassed by Mary’s mention of her Blacker roots and the grim histories they unearthed.

Mary began to understand that Lillian’s lightness came from her ability to ignore things; that’s how she knew White people could do it too.

Within her grief was a degree of relief.

“Kitty was a friend to me, and now that she’s gone, I realize I’ve lost the closest thing that I had to a mother.”

when no one made mention of the Negro who had been in their space, Kitty fell in love with Los Angeles.

Fairy tales never featured Colored girls.

Sometimes she passed other Negroes on the street and accidentally made eye contact, as she had with the woman in Mitch’s, forgetting that she wasn’t supposed to. The funny thing is that, like that woman, they didn’t look away like they were supposed to.

Beauty had been a liability in the Negro world, but in the White one, it was a valuable commodity.

You didn’t choose this life to then go and live someone else’s.” “I didn’t really choose it at all.” “You’re still here, aren’t you? That’s a choice.”

Fathers had created problems for everyone she knew.

“People aren’t all bad; sometimes they just need to be pushed to do the right thing.”

It’s better to be labeled a “nigger lover” than be found out to be Negro.

Coined “the princess of Telescope,” Kitty Karr needed an origin story. Nathan crafted a bigger story than Kitty’s original cover but, ironically, one a tad closer to the truth: he declared her the heir to a cotton fortune who had fled her privileged Southern life for Los Angeles to be a star.

My grandmother was a baker.”

Kitty Karr was in fact the first Colored actress to win an Oscar in a lead role, and nobody would ever know it.

You don’t know how it feels to be ashamed of who you are, to hide parts of yourself, to carry hate for people who say they love you.” “Do you hate me?” Tears sprang in his eyes when she shrugged. He was the only one who had ever been free: a White, rich man, he owned everything, just as he’d said. He could go anywhere without restrictions.

She figured the details would work themselves out. That was the American way.