Racism and real life: The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn in the undergraduate survey of American literature

Radical Teacher, Fall, 2007 by Annemarie Hamlin, Constance Joyner

For me, analyzing a book that I find classically racist is much easier to explain than trying to share the raw emotions felt while trying to complete the assignment. Being black is only a challenge on days that end with "y" and never once have I questioned why I am black. I know that I am black. I love being black. I know racism exists and each time this ignorance blocks my path I am amazed that I am still caught off guard and shocked when it calls my name. I never dreamed that this ugly would find me on a university campus.

For nearly two decades, I waited semi-patiently for the opportunity to return to school. The prospect of resuming the academic journey to procure a degree in English caused a giddiness that is unimaginable. The first time I met Dr. Annemarie Hamlin I was immediately struck by her inherent poise and grace. She seemed to exude knowledge and appeared ready to share her academic acumen with the same fervor and gusto I felt sitting in her class. Professor Hamlin's reading list included an inaugural experience, a classic. Huckleberry Finn was a mystery to me. I had never read any of Mister Mark Twain's works. As I held the masterpiece in my hands, I experienced a moment of academic awe.

Dr. Hamlin assigned the first 150 pages of Huckleberry Finn and in order to savor my first classical experience, I waited until the weekend to start. The time comes, and I make a deal for privacy with my children. I gather a tall, iced glass of mango juice, my favorite pillow and chenille blanket and burrow into the comfort of my chaise lounge and begin to read.

By page four and my first nigger, I realize that maybe this is not what I signed up for; by page six and seven niggers later, I realize that I am not happy. To paraphrase the Honorable Malcolm X, I felt "... bamboozled, robbed, hoodwinked...." Suddenly, my life is a cliche and with great crescendo, "be careful what you wish for" echoed in my head. Feeling nauseated and unbelievably sad, I continually asked, how did this book become a classic?

Several times, as I read the words of an author who today would be labeled a racist, I kicked the chenille-throw to the floor and paced in frustration. Yet more daunting than reading the tome were the discussions in class. I could not believe that my peers did not share my umbrage or frustration. Only two of my classmates felt my pain but, of course, they looked like me. Our white classmates appeared surprised by our uniform expressions of disdain. They also appeared to believe that the novel was a work of innocuous fiction, and that, with the advent of Civil Rights, Colin Powell, and Soul Train, it offered no societal relevance today. Dr. Hamlin braved a good fight by trying to discuss the disparities, disenchantment, and ugliness of slavery, but no matter how hard she tried to connect the pre-Civil War dots of racism to the Black American of the new millennium, the class failed to see the correlation.

As a black woman offended by Mister Twain's words, I wondered--where is the outrage of my classmates? I believe that 21st century whites spend a great deal of energy, physical and vocal, distancing themselves from their predecessors. Many people will argue that since the 1800s things have become much better for Colored People. The reality is that no matter how many times the fabric of the suit changes the original pattern remains the same. To share the daily obstacles incurred in a black life would sound like complaining, over sensitivity, and serious hallucination to people who have never had to overcome a lifetime of anything (racially) bad. By the end of the class discussions, I made the conscious decision to keep my comments to a dull, "outraged" roar. I realized that my classmates would never feel the visceral, almost palpable frustration I experienced while reading the racist ideas of a man whose thoughts have been placed in literary perpetuity. This assignment could have been the catalyst for possible enlightenment, a rare opportunity to provide a small bridge across the racial divide; instead, even if only dialogically, in Dr. Hamlin's class, Mister Twain succeeded in keeping the races as segregated as they were in the time that he lived.