“They Want Our Rhythm but
They Don’t Want Our Blues’’
An Examination of
Blackfishing on Instagram
By: Danielle A. Davis
*Title page Image courtesy of artist: Shannon Wright
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Table of Contents
Acknowledgements………...………...………..………..…..3
Abstract……….………..….4
1| Introduction ……….……….………....5
1.1.
Blackfishing on Instagram: How did we get here?
………..……...……...61.2. The Blackfishers of Instagram……….………..……...………....10
2| Theoretical Framework ………..…..……….…...15
2.1. Introduction………...………...……….….…...15
2.2. Postcolonial Theory: Colonial Aphasia and Racial Cognitions……….……..…….……….….….16
2.3. Theft or Homage: Debating Appropriation and Appreciation………...…………...……....20
2.4. Make it Spicy!: Commodifying the Other …………...………...23
2.5. Cosplay and Becoming the Other ………..………..….25
2.6 Conclusion………..………...26
3| Methodology………..……….……..28
3.1. Introduction………...…………..……….……….…28
3.2. Focus Groups………..……….…...……...28
3.3. Focus Group Participants ………....…..…...30
3.4. Slides and Presentation ………...………...…...32
3.5. Reflection ………..……….….35
4| Findings and Discussion………..………..…………..……….….……..37
4.1. Introduction ………..……….……….………...37
4.2. The Guessing Game.………....……….……...37
4.3. Sex Sells: Desire, Deciet, and Pofit………...………..……..45
4.4. “This Kind of thing Always Happens...”: Normalizing Blackfishing……….………..……..…..50
4.5. Normalizing: Who sees what and Why?………..…...53
4.6. Keepin’ it Real: Presenting the Self ……….……..59
4.7. Conclusion: “When you know better, you do better”...…….63
5| Conclusion
5.1 Final Thoughts……….………....66Bibliography……….………...68
Appendices………..75
2Acknowledgements
Abstract
Blackfishing is a new phenomenon that caused as stir across social media in November 2018 when the Instagram accounts of several influencers previously thought to be Black or mixed race were revealed to be White. Inspired by the term catfishing, a term used to describe the deceptive practice of creating and maintaining a fraudulent online profile, blackfishing is used to describe White [women] who alter themselves so as to appear black or mixed raced via their online persona. The revelation of these blackfishers came amidst several headlines dealing with the topic of racism and sparked a more contentious debate surrounding cultural appropriation and how this new phenomena appeared to be a resurgence of blackface. Despite the perpetrators of blackfishing being of European descent, many of the conversations surrounding blackfishing were largely concentrated in the U.S. and the U.K.at a time of heightened racial discord within the nations.
The Netherlands on the other hand is a country whose image of progressiveness and egalitarianism is grounded in a colorblind approach to race relations. As such, there is often a denial or redirecting of conversations surrounding racism within The Netherlands as if it does not exist. There is a ‘cultural aphasia’ (Helsloot, 2012, p.1) that seems to be at play in discussions of race and discrimination which prompted the inspiratuon for this research. While there have been recent movements to address this legacy of denial, namely the “Zwarte Piet is Racisme” protests and the Decolonizing the curriculum campaign, there has been a recent, but more importantly contradictory right wing lean occuring in Dutch politics which seems to signify a growing discontent within the nation.
Multiculturalism, moreover what it means to be multicultural became a point of interest for me as an immigrant living in Amsterdam, and therefore inspired the base of this research. Through the use of qualitative methods, I conducted four focus group to narratively examine how blackfishing translates to and is experienced by Dutch audiences from varying racial and ethnic backgrounds within the city of Amsterdam. Across each session, findings show that while there was an overarching uneasiness to what they were viewing, not only was there was a distinct difference as to where the discomfort stemmed from amongst respondents, but to a greater extent, how these differences illuminated a certain double consciousness across participant groups. In the following section, I will present quotes both from alleged blackfishers and critics as a means to get an understanding of what this thesis will present.
1| Introduction
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1.1. | Blackfishing on Instagram: How did we get here?
5This thesis will be discussing blackfishing, a new phenomenon that caused as stir across social media in November 2018 when the Instagram accounts of several influencers previously thought to be Black or mixed race were revealed to be White. In a Twitter thread by Wanna Thompson accompanied by the hashtag “niggerfishing” Swedish model and Influencer Emma Hallberg was the first to be called out. It is said that Hallberg was found on an Instagram page dedicated to showcasing Black beauty across the platform, and had been continuously reposted on similar pages as well. An old photo of Hallberg looking vastly different than how she currently presents herself began to circulate and cause a stir with one user going so far as to message her asking for an explanation as to why she looked so different. Over the next few days, similar photos of other Instagram influencers began to surface, namely that of Alicja Brzostowska and Mika Francis, both of whom it seemed had undergone the same drastic transformation as Hallberg under the now infamous hashtag known as “blackfishing”.
The thread grew, mainly in the elusive, sharp tongued, and highly entertaining corner of social media known as “Black Twitter”. Neither separate nor an extension of, Black Twitter is best described as a “culturally connected” microcosm of Twitter (Dates, Moody Ramirez, 2018). A space in which issues pertaining to and affecting the black community are given heightened visibility, Black Twitter served as powerful driver to identify, dissect, and “clapback” at this blackfishing trend whereby it seemed White women, more and more, were pretending to be Black in what some critics referred to as a sort of blackface 2.0.
Fig. 1 Emma Hallberg’s before and after photos 6
To understand the term blackfishing, one must first refer to the colloquial term catfishing which was inspired by the 2010 documentary “Catfish”. In the film, viewers follow the journey of protagonist Nev Schulman who has fallen head over heels for a woman he met on the social networking site Facebook named Megan Fassio. Over the duration of the film, Nev makes several attempts to meet with Megan offline in hopes to pursue a “real relationship”, however he begins to notice several surmounting inconsistencies that lead him to doubt Megan’s existence; a suspicion that (spoiler alert!) is later confirmed. The 19 year old model named Megan who Nev had forged an online relationship with was actually 39 year old Angela Wasserman who,1
through social media, had fabricated and maintained several fake online profiles. The moment of revelation post reveal invoked a much broader and concerning narrative as to how and why individuals construct identities much different to their own via social media.
Cue the birth of the eponym catfishing, a term which came to denote the deceptive activity of creating and maintaining a false identity and persona via social media. The purpose for such an act can vary from romantic pursuits, financial gain, to simply trolling an individual(s) online. Arising in the advent of social media, trolling has become pathologized as a form of antisocial behavior whereby individuals engage in deceptive, disruptive, and destructive manner via online platforms (Buckles, Trapnell, Paulhus, 2014).Whereas catfishing can be perpetrated by anyone of any age, gender, and race, blackfishing is far more niche in that those who are accused of engaging in this phenomena are all White women. I was once catfished long ago, but that is a thesis for another year.
There is not currently an official entry in Webster's dictionary to define blackfishing (although never say never), but Twitter user Wanna Thompson, first described it as White women who were “cosplaying” or pretending to be Black women. Through continued discussion, various media outlets began defining blackfishing as a beauty trend whereby White female influencers transform or “reinvent” themselves through the use of makeup, physical alterations including tanning and surgery, donning specific hairstyles, and adopting certain fashion aesthetics so as to appear Black or mixed-race online (Dabiri, 2018). Those who had taken umbrage with the trend denounced blackfishing as a more severe form of cultural appropriation which used the physical embodiment of Blackness for profit. To a greater extent, blackfishing was also compared to a rebranded more palatable version of blackface, the commercial viability of which is posited on racial ambivalence (Jackson, 2018). It is important to note that at the time these women were ousted as White, headlines conversations pertaining to race relations, moreover racial inequality in light of right wing politics had become ubiquitous and thusly contentious in popular discourse across the U.S. and the U.K. But when it comes to discussing
1 Angela Wesselman, first posed as an 8 year-old artist named Abby online in search of feedback for her
artwork online. Wesselman claims people were unkind when she posed as her herself, however when she made the ‘Abby’ profile, public reception was far kinder. Wesselman then created Megan’s profile so as to make the ‘Megan’ profile so as to make the conversation more age appropriate for Nev. In an interview with ABC News, Wesselman claimed she was diagnosed with schizophrenia (Gilbey, 2010).
race and race relations in the Netherlands, there is a dominant narrative when the topic of race is discussed in public discourse that is rooted in a colorblind approach.
I first visited in Amsterdam in 2017 and I remember how “invisible” I felt. To clarify, I did not feel ignored, but more so I did not feel Black. Though I had only been here for a week, it was a feeling that really struck me and one of the reasons I chose to attend the University of Amsterdam. I will admit that my perception of the Netherlands has largely come from the image of Amsterdam which was one not of tolerance, but of acceptance. But after living here for almost a year, I began to feel that feeling I had experienced in the U.S. but it was not quite the same and therefore I found it difficult to express. This feeling grew as I began to engage in conversations about race and race relations with Dutch people, more specifically White Dutch people where I was often met with a kind of discomfort and even blankness when these topics were broached. Similarly, I would often witness a redirect to discuss how much worse things are in the U.S. when I ushered in examples of both my personal experiences as well as that of my friends of color in Amsterdam. Curious to understand this uneasiness, I serendipitously found and enrolled in an interdisciplinary course entitled The Sidewings of Slavery: What we Don’t See in efforts put what I could not, or rather did not feel comfortable verbalizing without further historical context.
The Sidewings of Slavery was geared towards bringing a more complete vision of Dutch colonial history for as it is currently taught, there is a cloak of benignity over Dutch imperial history. Over the duration of this course, I observed conversations between White Dutch students and Dutch students of color that confirmed what I could not quite pin down in my daily experiences. Oftentimes, even in the face of historical text and images, there still seemed to be a difficulty in grasping not only the extent to which Dutch colonies once existed, but also how remnants of that had become so watered down that slavery had come to mean something different within Dutch discourse. I would later learn that this un-acknowledgement in the dominant meaning making process leads to cultural aphasia (Stoler, 2011). It was eye opening to say the least, especially because this did not seem to be the case for Dutch students of color. For them, there appeared to be an acute awareness of coloniality within the Netherlands. It was during this time that I was also led to the work of Philomena Essed and Gloria Wekker, two Black Dutch academics whose work has meticulously profiled the more insidious ways in which racism manifests in the Netherlands.
To be clear, in no way is this an assertion that racism is meant to look the same across the world. However in a space that promotes tolerance and equality, particularly in Amsterdam that is often referred to as the “most multicultural city in the world” by Dutch citizens, I wondered how the dominant White Dutch self-representation (Wekker, 2016) could or would affect perceptions of blackfishing. Public discourse across the U.K. and U.S., two nations with distinct racialized histories, denote blackfishing as racist as many critics believed it to harken back to a time of blackface and minstrelsy. In White Innocence, Wekker states that the Dutch self image is entrenched in the Dutch cultural archive, which is described as “a particular knowledge and structures of attitude and reference...structures of feeling” (Said, 1993) or as
Wekker states a racial grammar that emerged in 19th century Europe (Wekker, 2016). This grammar is a deep structure of inequality solely based on race and that it underpins ways of knowing, interpreting, and feeling.
Through discussion, I came to learn that most students resided in Amsterdam, a city whose diversity I assumed would allow for more open conversations regarding racism. But as previously stated, the conversations between White Dutch students and Dutch students of color in the course demonstrated a chasm in awareness regarding Dutch imperial history. In light of this aphasia, on the basis of four focus groups this thesis aims to answer the question of how Dutch people in Amsterdam, across different demographics respond to the phenomena of blackfishing. Within this discussion are four sub-questions that seek to address the racial and gendered dimensions of this phenomena by asking the following:
❏ How does blackfishing operate/occur as a form of appropriation and blackface? ❏ How does the practice of blackfishing repeat or transgress racialized notions of
beauty?
In probing the phenomena of blackfishing, it is important to note that while those who have been accused of cosplaying on the internet as Black women are all of European descent (Swedish, Polish, and English), some of the most poignant critics have drawn upon the cases of Rachel Dolezal, Martina Big and their claims of being transracial. Wesley Morris’ New York Times article entitledThe Year we Obsessed About Identity asked the question “who are we?” in 2015, a year that seemed to be saturated with questions of identity in light of Dolezal and other popular culture developments that seemed to challenge hegemonic binary notions of the self. Morris looks to personal technologies and how they have allowed us to create alternate or auxiliary personae (Morris, 2015). This idea of cultural flux led to me to the last two sub question of this thesis that focus on the process of identity construction. They ask:
❏ How has technology, like Instagram given rise to the ability to play with racial identity?
❏ How does blackfishing relate to or differ from notions of transracialism?
In the following section of this introduction, I will elaborate on the phenomenon of blackfishing by discussing the cases of Emma Hallberg, Alicja Brzostowska and Mika Francis in relation to the cases of Rachel Dolezal and Martina Big. As blackfishing is quite new, the theoretical framework will seek to locate the cultural contexts and theoretical traditions from which blackfishing originates. Theory will also be used to establish a cultural perspective in efforts to aid my understanding of how Dutch people may respond to the phenomenon of blackfishing. This will be followed by the methodology chapter where I will detail the methods employed to answer my research questions along with reflections on the research process. Lastly, I will delineate the findings of my research in the findings and discussions chapter along with a brief conclusion summarizing my closing thoughts.
1.2. | The Blackfishers of Instagram
Hallberg was the first to be called out via a direct message from one of her followers on Instagram who attached a photo of Hallberg looking vastly different than her Instagram persona asking if she was in fact White. Hallberg responded to the message confirming that she was indeed White and that she never claimed to be anything else, however controversy ensued as critics swiftly took to social media to offer responses to this new(ish) trend (Alese, 2018). This prompted Hallberg to post a video to her profile entitled “Let me Explain” in which she attempts to convince viewers that her features are in fact her own from her hair, to her tan, and that she is not doing anything to additional to resemble another race (Jackson 2018).
Fig 2. (Left) Instagram user discussing Hallberg’s transformation. (Right) Hallberg’s exchange with Instagram user inquiring about her transformation.
Brzostowska (pictured below), who is of Polish descent but grew up in the UK, offered a similar response when she was confronted with accusations of masquerading as a Black woman. Although she states understanding the outrage towards the before and after photos, the assumptions surrounding her transformation are misguided because she does not have stereotypical Polish features. Brzostowska also states that she although she is White, she is not ‘White’ White (Virk, McGregor, 2018), thereby insinuating that there is something non-White or “othered” about her racial identity, and perhaps enough to legitimate her actions.
Fig 3. Alicja ‘Aga’ Brzostowska ‘before’ (middle) and ‘after’ photo (right & left)
As someone who has been raised in the U.S., I am aware of how my indoctrination to and conception of racial construction is affecting my ability to understand how a Polish person would not identify as “truly” White. By no means do I say this to place the U.S. at the center of the universe or to use them as the rubric by which to understand racial politics, but rather to situate my understanding of race as it pertains to blackfishing. If one is to examine at the current state of British politics, paying special attention to the xenophobic and anti-immigration rhetoric underpinning Brexit, Polish migrants emerge as a particular point of contention. Though once considered a ‘desirable’ migrant group, the whiteness that once afforded them a level of ‘invisibility’ experienced a significant shift following the economic crisis of 2008 (Rzepnikowska, 2018). Akin to the ways in which Mexican migrants have and continue to be targeted in U.S. political media, Poles were viewed as scourges on the British economy. Additionally, racist discourse that positioned culture and ethnicity as fixed made way for new forms of racism that placed Poles outside the realm of whiteness and repositioned them as “other” (Rzepnikowska, 2018).
Xenophobic and racist attitudes towards Polish immigrants can be seen in the Netherlands as well. Similar to British media and American media, welfare fraud by immigrants has emerged as a salient topic of interest in Dutch media with Bulgarians, Romanians, and Poles being a main target (McGinnity & Gijsbertsa, 2015, pg. 4). Aligned with this mistrust was the blacklist enacted by Geert Wilders, leader of the People’s Party for Freedom (VVD), called the “Polenmeldpunt” which served as a hotline in which citizens could call in to report Polish misbehavior (McGinnity & Gijsbertsa, 2015, pg. 4). Despite being White, McGinnity & Gijsbertsa demonstrate how in the face of increased migration, Poles and other Eastern Europeans become racialized not along the physical dimension as Black and Asian minority groups, but also along cultural lines (McGinnity & Gijsbertsa, 2015, pg. 6). Whiteness, within the context of the Netherlands, then becomes a question of Dutchness. Taking this into account, Brzostowska’s identification as not White White also becomes clearer.
Francis, another influencer from the U.K. who was also lambasted for her choice of styling also offered a response, the first of which staunchly rebuffed any claims that she was trying to be black and then vehemently asserted that she is not the one who should be under such scrutiny. Francis then claimed to be a comrade black women in her initial posting but soon took it down after continued criticism towards her lack of acknowledgement for appropriating Black culture.
Fig 4. Pictured here: Instagram Mika Francis before’ (middle) and ‘after’ photo (right & left) In December 2018, Francis released a video on the social media platform YouTube, seemingly calmer than her previous posting addressing the accusations of blackfishing, however this time Francis disabled the comments feature whereby users are able to engage both with her and each other. A bold and perhaps questionable move considering why the video was being made in the first place. Throughout her response, Francis treads a tightrope of apologizing for causing any offense yet simultaneously defending her choice of dress by discussing her admiration of Rihanna, Beyonce, and Jorja Smith, (all of whom are Black women) and how her aesthetic is inspired by them(Francis, 2018).
Whether these women are consciously or unconsciously tapping into aesthetics that flirt with the suggestion of another race besides White is uncertain. What is certain however is that despite them treading the waters of racial ambiguity, none of these women have claimed to be anything other than White when explicitly asked. The same cannot be said in the case of Rachel Dolezal and Martina Big, two White women who “came out” as transracial.
Fig 5. Pictured here: Rachel Dolezal (left) and Martina Big (right)
Dolezal was “outed” by her parents following her fumbled response when a news reporter asked Dolezal if she was Black went viral. Prior to this revelation, Dolezal had been working as a professor of Africana Studies and was appointed president of the Spokane chapter of the NAACP where she organized Black Lives Matters protests along with other events geared2
towards highlighting issues affecting the Black community (Brubaker, 2015). The ensuing backlash caused Dolezal to resign from her position, yet she maintained that she did not identify as White and was in fact a transracial Black woman. In efforts to convince others of her identity, Dolezal conflated her experience to that of transgendered individuals, a comparison that drew even heavier criticism by those who viewed her claims as damaging to the transgender community. This act of changing races can also be seen in the more recent case of German model and actress Martina Big.
Although not taken as seriously as Dolezal due to her caricature-like aesthetic, Big has openly expressed that she has become a Black woman. Big has been featured in many shows chronicling her extreme transformation starting with her breast augmentation to her tan injections. And while she is often discussed with an heir of humor, she has been candid in discussing her long standing dissatisfaction with how she looked. Both Dolezal and Big have gone even further to cement their transition by adopting African names: Nkechi Amari Diallo and Malaika Kubwa . Nkechi is of West African origin and short for3 4 Nkechinyere, while Diallo is
2
The National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (often referred to as the N, double-A, C,P) is an American neo-abolitionist civil rights organization. Founded in 1909, the NAACP works to champion the political, educational, social, and economic equality of minority groups and to combat racial discrimination through
democratic processes (naacp.org).
3 In 2018, Big traveled to Kenya in efforts to learn more about who she was becoming as a Black woman. It is said that
whilst in Africa, she was baptized by a clergyman and bestowed with the name “Malaika” meaning angel and “Kubwa” meaning Big (Knight, 2019.
4 Nkechinyere translates to “gift from God” and can be traced back to the Igbo tribe of Nigeria. Diallo means “bold”. 13
of Fulani origin and has roots in Guinea and Senegal (Ismail, 2017). But for the purpose of this thesis, I will continue to refer to both women as Dolezal and Big.
The case of Dolezal and Big are complex and I will admit that in conducting this research, I found the idea of transracialism incomprehensible, especially as a Black woman myself. But when it comes to Dolezal whose personal life details continue to be public fodder, I am given pause. In the Netflix documentary the Rachel Divide, we are given insight into the machinations of how Dolezal could have come to view her racial identity. In a much broader sense, the Dolezal debates sparked conversations about identity politics by questioning what race is and how we come to understand it. Moreover, the pairing of transgender and transracial in relation to the Dolezal’s identity are indicative of a kind of cultural flux occurring in popular culture that are challenging categories that were once taken for granted (Brubaker, 2015). While the conflation of transgender and transracial still pose a problem for me, Brubaker’s work along with the findings of this research indicate how the unsettling of sex, gender and ethnoracial categories have broadened the scope for transforming the self while simultaneously giving rise to anxieties regarding what is “natural”, what is not, and the ability to choose our identities.
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2| Theoretical Framework
2.1. | Introduction
Philomena Essed, 1991
There is no existing literature on blackfishing (yet), however preliminary research as well as the findings and discussion presented at the end of this essay illustrates how the phenomena is shaped by and resists existing theoretical traditions. Rather than dictating how blackfishing should be understood, this thesis and dissects four key elements of blackfishing that demonstrate how the phenomena could be understood: as a performative act rooted in legacy of blackface minstrelsy, as a nuanced form of appropriating and commodifying Black culture, and as a form of cosplay. Additionally, as the platform upon which these influencers have built their brand exists on Instagram, blackfishing could also be understood as a way in which technology has come to facilitate and fragment the self.
As cases of blackfishing have so far only been seen with White women, this fragmentation of the self becomes an experience that is gendered as well as intersectional. In the following chapters, I primarily draw upon the work of Gloria Wekker, Philomena Essed, Dick Hebdige, Ann Laura Stoler, and bell hooks to establish a theoretical framework by which to situate blackfishing. The concepts presented within this framework are used to provide a lens by which to identify the cultural context in which blackfishing originates. Additionally, I employ these concepts in order to establish a cultural perspective by which to understand how blackfishing is experienced by Dutch people.
In the embryonic stages of this research, I observed a double consciousness in how blackfishing is experienced between Dutch participants of color and White Dutch participants. Where Dutch people of color, especially Black Dutch people expressed a strong aversion to blackfishing as racist, some White Dutch people seemed to disregard it as something that was simply “odd”. I turn to postcolonial theory as a means to further examine this dissonance starting with the work of Philomena Essed and Ann Laura Stoler.
2.2. | Postcolonial Theory: Colonial Aphasia and Racial Cognitions
“There is no place for the victims of Dutch colonialism mnemonically for Dutch discourse does
not produce them as belonging to Dutch national history.”
P. Bijl, 2012
Colonial discourse has played an integral role in shaping our conceptions of who is White and who is Other (Bhabha, 1984; Barker, Hulme, & Iverson, 1994). The knowledge that is then produced, and reproduced in this space operates on the continual placement of the European West above that which is non-West. This kind of epistemological organization became naturalized through various conventions such as medical and ethnographic discourse creating a ‘regime of truth’ (Foucault, 1977) around non-White bodies as primitive, exotic, dangerous, and backward within the European colonial narrative (Said, 1978). It is from this cultural context, one of violent fetishization, that the hypersexualized Black woman is born as can be seen in the case of the Hottentot Venus (Lindfors, 1985; Netto, 2005). It is also from this cultural context that blackface and minstrelsy originated in its depiction of Black people as a something of derision as well as desire.
Minstrel shows were a form of entertainment, similar to that of a variety show that featured white men who used burnt cork to blacken their skin, and draw on large exaggerated red lips. Whilst in blackface, minstrel performances depicted Black people as lazy, “happy-go-lucky”, idle, hypersexual, and criminalistic (Bean, Hatch, & McNamara 1996; Lott 1992). Minstrel shows remained a popular form of entertainment in the United States well into the 20th century and while The Netherlands did not share this particular vaudevillian legacy,5
the mention of minstrelsy here serves to provide a backdrop for the use of and recognition of blackface minstrelsy within the phenomena of blackfishing.
Fig 6. Pictured here: Minstrel show from 1900, by the Strobridge Litho Company
5Amos n’ Andy was a popular American radio and television show that aired from 1928 - 1960 created and voiced by
Freeman Gosden and Charles Correll. The original actors who portrayed the titular characters were White however shortly after the show moved to television, Black actors replaced Gosden and Freeman. The show was cancelled in 1960 after increased pressure from the NAACP who called the show racist for its portrayals of Black people (Lott, 1992).
Shortly after World War II, a new kind of theory began to emerge in regions of the world that were undergoing decolonization to combat colonial discourse that had come to shape ways of viewing and knowing those who are non-White. Born out of the relationship between the subjugated under imperialism and colonial expansion, postcolonial literature was concerned with the political, economic, historical and social impact of European colonial rule (Gandhi, 2019). Postcolonial theory employed a humanistic approach to the production of knowledge by reconstituting the voices of the Other and exposed the limits of Eurocentric academic thought (Gandhi, 2019). In short, postcolonial theory not only challenge contemporary ways of knowing, it also illustrates the inextricable and pervasive links between the colonizer and the colonized.
Prominent names and work within the postcolonial canon include Frantz Fanon’s The Wretched of the Earth which examines the dehumanizing effects of colonization and how newly independent countries build a new cultural consciousness, Gayatri Spivak’s Can the Subaltern Speak? Which examines the relationship between the West and the Other deconstructs the construction of truth, and Edward Said’s Orientalism which addresses the concept of “the Orient” as constructed by the West and how it served as an imperial mechanism of control over people of the East (Fanon, 1961; Spivak, 1985, Said, 1978). Dutch scholars Philomena Essed and Gloria Wekker continue the dismantling of colonial discourse by addressing the social contexts from which racist cognitions are born using the Netherlands as a site of research.
Essed describes the role of master narratives, or scripts we use to tell and retell stories that influence the way we think about and discuss a story (Essed, 1991). Master narratives are powerful tools in that they define our terminology and language, thereby influencing the way we think of a story, and in the case of the Netherlands the story is the Dutch colonial legacy (Essed, 1991). The imperial legacy of the Netherlands is told through a narrative that emphasizes the slave trade and not slavery itself therefore reframing this very integral part of Dutch colonial history as a legitimate means of business with losses, and profits (Essed, 1991). By anchoring this legacy within the framework of trade, Dutch discourse creates a vision of equal collaboration between the Netherlands and Africa, assuming (incorrectly) a preset system of slavery, and ignoring the violent means by which this “partnership” was forged (Essed, 1991). According to Essed, Dutch historiography refuses to acknowledge the racial implications of the African slave, as “race” is not positioned within the Dutch narrative . The resulting story as it is told and 6 retold, absolves the Dutch and other European enslavers of any responsibilty of the atrocities committed during slavery (Essed, 1991).
Essed’s critique of the Dutch approach to the telling of their colonial history, and how that shapes common perceptions to the denial of racism speaks to Ann Laura Stoler’s concept of “colonial aphasia” (Stoler, 2011). Using postcolonial insight in her research perceptions of race in France, Stoler describes this phenomena as the following:
6At the time “Dutch Racism” was written, Afro-Dutch communities made a push to use the phrase “tot
slaaf gemaakt” which translates to “those who have been made slave” as a way to confront and fill the gap in the Dutch master narrative around colonialism (Essed, 1991, p. 34).
“...In aphasia, an occlusion of knowledge is the issue. It is not a matter of ignorance or absence. Aphasia is a dismembering, a difficulty speaking, A difficulty generating a vocabulary that associates appropriate words and concepts with appropriate things. Aphasia in its many forms describes a difficulty retrieving both conceptual and lexical vocabulary and, most important, a difficulty comprehending what is spoken.” (Stoler, 2011)
In psychology, aphasia is described as deficit in comprehension, a partial knowledge loss, while aphasiacs are described as agrammatic as they have difficulty comprehending structural relationships (Stoler, 2011). When it comes to colonial aphasia specifically, there is an irretrievability of along with a simultaneous presence, absence, and a misrecognition of a particular vocabulary. Stoler pathologized colonial aphasia as a political disorder in a troubled psychic space, where people fail to see the whole as they only see the details (Stoler, 2011) . In the beginning of this thesis, I discuss the propensity to redirect conversations of race and colonialism to issues of race relations in the United States and the Atlantic slave trade, I witnessed when conversing with White Dutch people. It was confusing as it seemed a recurrent in its almost script-like delivery. But to Stoler, this is what empires do: create fragmentation processes through colonial projects whose enduring privilege lies within its ability to frame their history as History by denying the unequal power relations that forged them (Coronil 2007; Stoler, 2011). In other words, history is always written by the winners.
Fig 7. Pictured here: (Left) Sinterklaas festival participants dressed up as Zwarte Piet. (Right) Zwarte Piet protesters at the Sinterklaas festival.
To situate this aphasia more practically, I turn to the debate around the yearly celebration of Zwarte Piet. Every year, throughout The Netherlands, December 5th is dedicated to the gift giving Sinterklaas festival where Zwarte Piet (Black Pete) accompanies Sinterklaas (St. Nicholas) on this annual holiday to award children who have been good with presents and treats (van der Pijl, Goulordava, 2014). In recent years, demonstrations calling for an end to the presence of Black Pete have intensified; those who are in opposition denouncing it as a racist practice of blackface, and a remnant of the Dutch colonial past. However, as debates have
increased, namely starting with the silent demonstration by two Black Dutch poets in 2011 , 7
there has been fervent, outright denial to allegations of racism by many Dutch people, as well as efforts to push narratives that Black Pete’s skin color is due to the soot he acquires when climbing down the chimney to help St. Nicholas and not because of his race (van der Pijl, Goulordava, 2014). To those who may read this paper and perhaps consider the possibility that Pete’s color is indeed a cause of chimney soot, this thesis proposes a counter argument that asks why, in his modern day representation, aren’t his lips and clothes covered in soot as well?
Sporting a short curly wig, red lips, large gold hoop earrings, deep brownish-blackish skin tone, and “silly” albeit foolish disposition, Black Pete’s appearance conjures images of the minstrel shows that were popularized in the U.S. around the mid-19th century. The images of blackface and minstrelsy from this post antebellum era are deeply imbedded in the minds of Black Americans, so much so that anything resembling an attempt by Whites to costume themselves as Black is swiftly, and understandably met with outrage. Despite the very obvious similarities in Black Pete and minstrel characters, there is still a dissonance among some in the recognition of its racist history. As previously stated, the Netherlands did not share the same minstrel legacy as the U.S. and the U.K., however they do share the colonial context from which the caricature like depiction of Black Pete originates. But the difficulty of some to comprehend these comparisons could be linked to the Dutch master narrative of which race has no place (Bijl, 2012, p 443).
This thesis does not propose a binary understanding of Dutch perceptions of race whereby it assumes there is no recognition of it at all. Nor does it assume America to be the rubric by which to measure all conversations of race around the world. On the contrary for in writing this thesis, there is an acute awareness of the movements and activism slowly but surely in efforts to address and combat racism and acknowledge the Dutch colonial legacy. This can be seen in the annual celebration of the Keti Koti festival, the Kwaku Festival, and even in the recent push to replace Black Pete with Chimney Pete. In these efforts to open up spaces and to confront histories that are geared towards facilitating progress, there is a pushback to aphasia. However, taking these continued gaps in knowledge regarding aspects of approaches to race, racism, and colonial history in The Netherlands into account, the subject of research in this thesis then aims to uncover how the backdrop of cultural aphasia may shape some Dutch attitudes towards blackfishing.
In examining racial cognitions within the Netherlands and how potential to affect perceptions of blackfishing as a racial phenomenon, I am brought to the work of Gloria Wekker and her postcolonial expose of the multi-paradoxical Dutch self-image. Dutchness, and what it
7 In 2011, two Black men, artists Quincy Gario and Jerry Afriyie, stood silently at a Sinterklaas festival in
Dordrecht wearing shirts that read “Zwarte Piet is Racism”. The men had planned to hold up a sign that read “Zwarte Piet is Racisme” but were told by authorities that demonstrations were not allowed on this day. The two men put the sign away, and instead showed their t-shirts with the aforementioned slogan. This soon descended into the men being forcibly removed from the festival by police, being dragged and then violently pinned to the ground (Helsloot, 2012, p.5).
means to be Dutch is rooted in three paradoxes: the refusal to identify with migrants, the belief that the Dutch were innocent victims of German occupation during WWII, and the education of the Dutch imperial presence in the world (Wekker, 2016). The above quote most closely represents the first tenant proposed by Wekker in the displacement of migrants within the Dutch consciousness as evidenced by the terms autochtonen meaning “those who are from here” and allochtonen, “those who came from elsewhere” (Wekker, 2016). In doing so, Wekker taps into the mnemonical placement of migrants within the Dutch discourse as discussed by Bijl in the beginning of this chapter. This becomes an important place by which to conceptualize racial cognitions within the Dutch context and how it is informed by this self-image of tolerance.
Another important feature of Wekker’s work is its recognition and isolation of how White maleness stands at the epicenter of knowledge production in the Netherlands. As such, there is an inherent impasse between this mode of understanding and the phenomena of blackfishing as it is both non-man, and non-White in its manifestation. As an intersectional, postcolonial critique, White Innocence then becomes a tool by which to examine the ways in which individuals become distanced from the vision of blackfishing as there is no placing of the Other as an individual outside of its servitude to Whiteness. In the next section I will expand this notion of servitude and how it manifests through the process of diffusion, commodification, and appropriation.
2.3. | Theft or Homage: Debating Appropriation and Appreciation
“Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.”
Charles Caleb Colton
Fig 7. Pictured here (right to left): Alessandra Ambrosio, Miley Cyrus, and Madonna
A quick google search of the term “blackfishing” renders numerous results that define the phenomenon as a new form of blackface, or as some media outlets refer to it, blackface 2.0. Where blackface was once a caricature-like depiction that was used to degrade and make fun of Black people, the assertion of blackface 2.0 by some critics stressed the role of cultural appropriation and the way in which White women were now physically embodying Blackness.
Cultural appropriation can be spotted across many industries, such as art, cinema, fashion, and even food. However, the problem with appropriation is that when Black people use the same verbiage, aesthetic, modes of dressing and being that were created out of their unique isolation as a means of self expression (Hannah-Jones, 2019), it is seen as lesser and undesirable. To understand this kind of shift, I explore the concept of cultural appropriation, its roots, and the ways in which it manifests in relation to blackfishing.
The term cultural appropriation first appeared in academia around the 1970’s in light of postcolonial critiques of the damaging effects of Western expansionism; and while the concept may be fairly new, the practice certainly was not. The concept of cultural appropriation has been argued as unstable as it essentializes the notion of culture by assuming it to be rigid, fixed, and incapable of being experienced by another group. One of the earliest references to cultural appropriation can be found in Dick Hebdiges’ 1979 book Subculture: The Meaning of Style . In it, Hebdidge illustrates how White British subcultures, Teddy Boys, Mods, Rockers, Punks, Skinheads were formed by appropriating styles and symbols from marginalized groups, more specifically ones with lower socioeconomic status (Hebdidge, 1979). In doing so, post-war working class youth harnessed these artifacts as a tool of identity formation and as a form of symbolic resistance against mainstream culture (Hebdidge, 1979). The passage below provides a great base by which to place this concept of cultural appropriation into context:
In the 1970’s Punks, largely comprised of British Irish kids, regularly witnessed and experienced marginalization in similar ways to that of British Blacks of the Reggae scene did at pub doorways when greeted with signage that read “No Irish, no Blacks, no Dogs”(Simpson, 2007). This is perhaps most closely related to Alicja Brzotowska who, in her effort to defend herself against the accusations of “pretending to be Black” described herself as “White, but not ‘White’ White” due to her Polish heritage. As a social movement, Punk stood to demonstrate as back to racism and xenophobia propelled by the rising National Front movement in British politics during that time. As a means to turn against this hateful rhetoric, punk performers appropriated much of the same messages reggae, a scene that built in the experiences of the Afro-Caribbean community at the time to form a sort of collective identity. This shared experience drew together two seemingly disparate groups, by transferring elements of culture between societies; this is also known as diffusion and defusion (Alleyne, 2000). Diffusion, or diffusion of Innovation theory (DOI) was developed by EM Rogers in 1962 in the field of
communication. DOI explains how an idea or product builds momentum overtime and spread, or diffuses (Rogers, 1962). Diffusion theory in relation to culture operates similarly to the diffusion theory used in the context of this research.
Starting from transmission, moving to adoption, and ending with acculturation, diffusion theory explains how ideas, practices, and innovations are transmitted, adopted, and acculturated to by recipient societies (Weijnert, 2002; Strang & Soule, 1998). The process of diffusion is facilitated in three mechanisms. Direct diffusion occurs when two cultures of geographic proximity intermix via marriage, trade, as well as conflict. Forced diffusion occurs when one group forces its own culture and value systems onto a subjugated group i.e. religion being forced onto conquered indigenous people. Indirect diffusion occurs when elements are passed from one culture to the other via a “middle man” in lieu of direct contact. Think the emergence of pizza in Jamaica brought on my tourists and migrant groups.
Kaufman and Patterson state that social structure and cultural power are essential points to understanding adoption versus rejection by observing how the dominant passes its customs to the subordinate (Kaufman & Patterson, 2005; Wejnert, 2002). As such, what practices and customs are adapted to what societies and why is where diffusion theory becomes particularly relevant as it provides a basis by which to locate moments of congruence between worlds that facilitate this transmission of culture (Strang & Soule, 1998, p. 278). Adversely, the success of adaptations can also lie within stark differences in social, political, and cultural power between groups as well. Cultural diffusion theory states that while that a cultures elements may travel, meaning does not; something that is crucial to understanding the complexity of how cultures are formed and reformed.
Defusion however is a bit more complex as it is the process by which values, meanings, and ideals become depoliticized or ‘watered down’ (Haenfler, 2015; Alleyne, 2000). Within psychology,defusion appears as a descendant of cognitive distancing within cognitive behavior therapy. Cognitive defusion stresses the importance of thoughts just as thoughts by altering and defusing the social/verbal context in which they are entangled (Luoma & Hayes, 2006). This view of defusion is also based on the relational frame theory which asserts the view that thoughts work the way they do because of context including current and historical (Luoma & Hayes, 2006). When these two concepts come together, there is one last element needed in order to understand not only how cultural appropriation comes into being, but also how there can be such polarized feelings around it: commodification.
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2.4. | Make it Spicy!: Commodifying the Other
Commodification as a concept has origins within Marx’s labor theory of value. Functioning both as an ‘object of utility’ and as ‘depositories of value’ within a capitalistic system, Marx defines a commodity as anything that satisfies a human want (Keen, 1993; Shepherd, 2002). The reason for this is that a commodities value exist only in relation to other commodities. Within contemporary discourse however, and in relation to the phenomena blackfishing, commodification has a more negative connotation for in commodification culture, businesses use defusion to modify the meanings of artifacts and ideas to make it more palatable to the public. Once ideas are spread through the diffusion, the context is changed, albeit removed throughdefusion, thereby leaving commodification to take the most “enjoyable” parts of these ideas to be marketed, and leaving out other, ‘unsavory’ aspects. It is at this point that cultural appropriation is formed for identities that were perhaps located to the periphery are elevated to the mainstream, only inasmuch as it can be replicated by the dominant culture. Commodification both disrupts and maintains the mainstream for although it may introduce ‘new’ ways of looking and being, these new ways must assume essentialist, and recognizable forms (hooks, 1992).
To discuss commodification in relation to blackfishing, bell hooks’ essay Eating the Other: Desire and Resistance becomes significant. Hooks marries both commodification and postcolonial theory by likening the Other to that of a spice within the colonial palate meant to be used as an enhancement and as a site of pleasure for the White mainstream (hooks, 1992). This pleasure as she describes is rooted in the colonial discourse that has shaped pervasive notions that the Other is something of excess, escape, primal urge, and therefore becomes a tool of transgression for the White supremacist mainstream (hooks, 1992). In the comparison of the Other as a spice, hooks provides a clear depiction of how the fabrication of difference is used in the interests of social control, and of commodity innovation (hooks, 1992; Foster).
The result is the commodification of difference, an act that upholds a kind of consumption that is fueled by the eradication of difference that the Other embodies through de-contextualization or defusion thereby displacing those who actually are the Other (1992). In other words the commodification of difference takes what is mostdifferent about something and makes it marketable. When considering how Blackness and otherness become tools of transgression for the White majority, the umbrage that was taken by those denouncing blackfishing then becomes more apparent. Blackfishing as a form of commodification from a postcolonial perspective speaks to ways in which the White mainstream waters down specific racialized histories, reducing it to the ‘best parts’, and commodifying them both for profit and
the maintenance of the status quo. An industry where this commodification and appropriation is current is fashion as can be seen in the example below. 8
To the left, there is as drawing (artist unknown) of a Black woman facing a White woman and although their hair is styled similarly, the public perception is vastly different. I remember growing up and witnessing this kind of chasm in how certain hairstyles were perceived between my Black and White classmates. Where my cornrows were labelled as “ghetto”, my White friends were showered with “cute” and chic. It was common to witness this kind of appraisal when White female classmates and eventually White colleagues would engage in particular styles and dress that were prominent in lower income Black communities. For them, the choice to wear these hairstyles and fashion was risky, edgy, and demonstrative of a kind of romanticization of urban poverty (Kotlowitz). In the right photo (below), the commodification of difference manifests in as the word “urban” which in the Chanel Urban Tie Cap (also known as a DuRag ) 9
and Urban Fabulous hair (also known as baby hairs). Used to describe streetwear and ghetto fabulous fashion, the word urban has become colloquial for non-White/Other.
In an era of social media where there has been increased visibility of cultures, some of those who have been called blackfishers insist that their desire to look a particular way lies in the paradigmatic shift in beauty standards. And as all of these women are influencers whose livelihood is built on beauty, it is their job to maintain whatever look is “in”, even if it is something they are not, racially speaking in this case. Put more explicitly, if the look is indeed that of a curvy biracial or Black woman, then it seems these “blackfishers” would want to stay abreast of this trend regardless of the problematics surrounding this kind of transformation. But as Haenfler it is not always a deliberate attempt on the part of the commodifier to defuse subcultures. Ratherdefusion is the product of sole focus placed on positive marketing in efforts to produce profit (Haenfler, 2015).
8Fig 8. Pictured here: mage from Tropenmuseum showing the difference in value between hairstyles on
Black Women versus White women (right).
9 A DuRag or Do-Rag is a silk scarf worn on the head after a hair treatment process. The name is inspired by the
colloquial term ‘do’, short for ‘hairdo’’ and rag. It is a common feature in African American communities in the United States.
To witness the diffusion of those once relegated to the space of the undesirable to the mainstream can, at times, feel like a win for it facilitates increased exposure of people of color. This is something that bears symbolic significance in the face of police brutality, racist immigration policies, and the other ways in which marginalized communities may feel under attack. But as hooks states, once these commodities become available to the market, one is left asking, has anything really changed?
2.5. | Cosplay and Becoming the Other
‘Alternative playgrounds’ as discussed by hooks provides the base for yet another way blackfishing could be understood: as a form of deceptive cosplay. As blackfishing has so far been presented in the cases of White women on Instagram, this kind of cosplaying seems to be facilitated through the rise of social technologies. The notion that these blackfishers were “cosplaying as Black” women brought a resurgence of conversation around Rachel Dolezal. In 2015, Dolezal publicly announced that she longer wished to be seen as a White woman, but as a transracial Black woman. The conversations around Dolezal generated conversations around identity questioning what we came to see versus what we understood as flexible especially as this was in such close proximity to Caitlyn Jenner’s coming out as transgender (Morris, 2015). Within this discourse, categories such as race once thought to be fixed were now being challenged by asking how we come to choose certain identities (Brubaker, 2015).
Fig 9. Cosplayers at ComiCon (Comic Convention)10
10 Fun fact: While cosplay draws both male and female, a rudimentary Google image search of the term “cosplay”
renders photos mostly featuring women.
Morris proposes that the rise of personal technologies like social media platforms have led to this flux in identity as it has afforded us a means to construct, engage, and reinvent ourselves through auxillary personae (Morris, 2015). From that perspective, it is possible that the creation and embodiment of these alternate identities as seen in cases of blackfishing could be considered a form of cosplay. However, it could also be argued that everything we do is in essence a sort of cosplay to a certain extent. But perhaps that would be overly simplistic and inaccurate. Cosplay, a portmanteau of costume and play, entails a kind of theatricality whereby players interact with fictional narratives and characters (Lamerichs 2011, 8). There is a growing body of work that examines cosplay from a gendered perspective, of which Lamerich’s work stands out in its discussion of the ways in which women engage in cosplay as a means to actualize their own identities (Lamerichs, 2011).
In an analysis of how cosplay lends itself as a means to exercise feminine agency, Nichols notes it being an escape into a world of fantasy, there are still similarities between cosplay and traditional beauty practices (Nichols, 2019). From a theoretical standpoint, Nichols draws upon Valéry’s work of the “three body problem” which fragments the individual into three separate parts. The first body is our self-image and how we view ourselves. Both our self-esteem and self-awareness, it is how we understand our identity (Valéry, 1990). The second body is our outer appearance and it is the site by which our first body expresses itself through dress, makeup, and ornament . Operating as a kind of “armor”, the second body works to protect the11 first body, however as it is always on display, it is also the one we critique and evaluate the most. It is important to note that while the first and second body often work the closest, they are not always in agreeance due to the tensions brought on from societal demands that require us to conform to certain standards (Nichols, 2019). The last body is the third body, and it is the physical, biological reality that we know once we have reduced it to pieces . 12
Using cosplay as a means to address the three body problem when it comes to female identity and agency becomes an insightful tool by which to understand transness for it taps into the multivariate ways in which we experience and construct of our identities. Moreover, cosplay becomes a meaningful tool in the discussion of how blackfishing has parallels to trans identities. I do not mean to insinuate that Hallberg, Brzostowska, or anyone else who has been called a blackfish believes themselves to be transracial, however this phenomena could be seen as the manifestation of identities becoming more mutable.
2.6. | Conclusion
What blackfishing is exactly may be difficult to categorically define. However using the theories set forth as a point of departure, blackfishing could be understood as multivariate phenomenon born of specific theoretical traditions around racialized and gendered identity construction. These traditions have in large part been constructed through colonial discourse 11 Valéry, 1989
12 Valéry, 1989
and continue to be reproduced through the White mainstream. I will return to these theories in the findings and discussions chapter as I examine how these theories in conjunction with Dutch discourse culminate in forming perceptions of blackfishing. In the following chapter I will detail the methodological approach that was used to bridge my theoretical sandpoint with empirical research.
3| Methodology
3.1 | Introduction
This research sought to understand how blackfishing was perceived by Dutch audiences across different demographics in Amsterdam. To answer the following I employ a qualitative approach using small scale questionnaires and placing focus groups at its epicenter. Although this was a small scale study of just 27 participants broken up into four focus groups, sessions amassed to 105 minutes each which allowed for insightful and engaging conversation. Choosing Amsterdam as a site of research I felt particularly beneficial when examining how approaches to race in The Netherlands may shape perceptions of blackfishing in a city that stands by the assertion of being “the most multicultural city in the world”. As a cosmopolitan city, Amsterdam has historically represented a safe haven for migrants and other marginalized populations, a sentiment that is reflected in their voting habits that typically lean more progressive. However as
the research later suggests, being multicultural does not necessarily provide insulation from cultural aphasia.
Expanding the work of Dorothy Smith’s standpoint theory stating that what one knows is directly affected by one’s position or ‘standpoint’ in society (Edles & Appelrouth, 2007) , Collins’work in Black Feminist Thought revisits this theory by interweaving the roles of gender and race. Smith’s work draws upon W.E.B Dubois concept of a “double consciousness” (DuBois, 1903) as she navigates life as a wife and mother in one sphere and at an educator within the male dominated field of sociology in the other. However Smith’s theory is rooted in Whiteness, something that is assumed and provides a level of invisibility against White patriarchal systems. Collins departure from this results in an alternative epistemology also referred to as Black feminist epistemology so as to reflect the converjence of existing as both a racialized and gendered body (Collins, 1990). In the previous chapter, I discussed the double consciousness I observed in regards to Dutch colonial history which led me to question the master narrative surrounding tolerance and racial awareness. The methodology of this reserach leverages the work of Black feminist epistemology in order to crtiically analyze how these varying positions may affect perceptions of blackfishing.
3.2 | Focus Groups
A focus group is a qualitative research technique that uses a group of individuals to comment and share responses to a specific topic based on personal experiences (Powell et al 1996). I opted to use this method as the means by which to understand how blackfishing was experienced by Dutch audiences as I felt this would be the most ideal format to gain insight into people's shared understandings of the phenomena. Additionally, the focus group format would afford me the ability to capitalize on group interaction by which to reveal hidden attitudes that might be otherwise missed or difficult to extract in a one on one format. Race can be a difficult topic to address and in one on one setting, and I was hyper aware of how my position as a Jamaican American woman might lead to participants to feel obligated to offer more appropriate responses instead of honest. This was particularly relevant when considering non-Black and White respondents.
I felt that placing participants in focus groups with other Dutch people, especially in the case of the White Dutch group would make them feel more at ease. The hope is that this comfort would foster trust amongst group members and therefore participants would feel less apt to censor themselves with me as their moderator. In piloting my questions to thesis group members as well as a few students whom I approached around campus, I was made privy these sensitivities for responses were often interspersed with silences, hesitation, or comments like “but I’m not sure”. On a personal note, this was also the time where I realized that in a one on one setting, I found myself asking very leading questions in which I began to impose my own viewpoints on blackfishing. This prompted me to take a step back and consider how best I could neutralize my role as a researcher and empowering the subject of study. Therefore using focus
groups as a means to research the ways in which blackfishing is experienced within the Dutch discourse emerged as the most fruitful option.
In using focus groups, I would be able to draw upon multiple attitudes and feelings that
are more likely to be revealed in a social setting . Focus groups, although not a natural setting, relies on interaction between participants. As focus groups allow for the observation of a multiplicity of views, participants are encouraged to ask questions not only of each other, but also of themselves thereby prompting them to reconsider their own beliefs and understanding of a specific issue (Kitzinger 1994, Gibbs 1997). Achieving this requires a stern effort as moderator to remain neutral as well as allowing each group member to be heard without interruption so as to maintain an open dialogue. The most poignant critics of blackfishing have been in the U.S. and the U.K., therefore another benefit to this method is that it would allow me to uncover how salient the issue of blackfishing is within a Dutch context across different demographics.
This is not to say that focus groups do not have their limitations, ranging from practical issues such as coordinating participant schedules, to more interpersonal obstacles such as combating shyness in an environment that can be quite intimidating. In regards to discussions of race, empowering individuals to share their feelings and opinions was particularly important as a moderator of color in front of White participants as well as amongst the focus group of mixed participants. This however could not always be assumed as these responses are being produced in an environment that was designed in a specific context which does not always guarantee that what is being expressed is specific to that individual (Gibbs, 1997). Another point of concern is balance. Keeping participants on topic without constraining the flow of conversation is crucial to conducting a productive session that would yield the most relevant responses.
Similarity is the potential for groupthink which is defined as a psychological phenomenon that occurs when the desire for harmony in a decision-making group overshadows a pragmatic appraisal of alternatives (Turner & Pratkanis, 1998). Group members try to minimize conflict and reach a consensus decision without critical evaluation of alternative perspectives (Turner & Pratkanis, 1998). Focus groups in this research are not designed to reach a decision as to how blackfishing should be perceived. However, as will be discussed in the findings section, there was an urge amongst White and non-Black participant groups to find resolve in how they believed they should feel about blackfishing.
Before searching for participants, I made the decision to forgo informing respondents that they would be discussing blackfishing. As an alternative, participants were told they would be discussing cultural appropriation in media representations; two topics that are related to blackfishing. I wanted to examine how these women read visually to Dutch audiences without prior knowledge as to who they were and why by teasing out what features, if at all, would signal certain racial identities.
