Author: Sophia Olechowski

Sophia Olechowski 

Iterations Final Essay

African American Literature 

4/29/2024

At the beginning of the semester, I thought I was fully prepared for the literature that I was going to see in this class. Having a small background in African literature classes and even my 19th century women’s work course where we read Incidents In The Life of A Slave Girl by Harriet Jacobs, I was confident that we would be reading work I was somewhat familiar with and concepts I had dealt with before. After browsing the Brightspace, before class began, I could see how Call and Response and African Fractals had fit into my expectations of what the course was going to look like. However, I could have never predicted a trip to the heating plant, nor could I have placed how The Water Cure was going to fit into the coursework. I’m sure I would have found the literature very interesting if I had fully read it in the beginning of the semester, but I would have had no idea how it connected to the concepts associated with this class. Throughout this semester, I have learned the power of slowing down and paying attention. By connecting each piece of literature to the next, collaborating with my peers, the feedback on my essays and being pushed to participate in class discussions; I have become a more attentive reader and writer. 

When we got to our first essay, based on the seed shape brought up by Ron Eglash in our first book African Fractals: Modern Computing and Indigenous Design, I thought I fully understood the concept. In my original interpretation, I viewed the seed shape and the concept of African fractals as two separate entities. Instead, I should have made it clear that the seed shape is the first iteration for a fractal and when you begin to repeat the iteration over and over, it becomes a fractal. This small detail would have not only made it more clear what the seed shape actually was; it also would have made my arguments stronger. As I analyzed “Everyday Use” by Alice Walker I took a closer look at the main character Dee and her mother as the narrator; claiming “it is crucial to recognize the limiting perspective of Dee’s mother that has been influenced by her own experience and trauma; and how Walker chooses to show this,” (Olechowski, Exploring the Seed Shape). I reflect on the traumatizing past Dee’s mother endured in order to present her as an unreliable narrator. By recognizing the seed shape as the initial building block of a fractal, I would have laid a stronger foundation for my arguments about the importance of understanding the seed shape before reading African American literature. Jumping to the end of the semester, the same concept was brought up when talking about The Water Cure and its narrator, Ishmael Kidder. 

As Kidder struggles with the loss of his daughter, it is unclear as to whether the story he is telling is even true. Constantly questioning the validity and authenticity of the authors and characters in our readings propelled a clear concept in African American studies. Due to the prevalence of Eurocentric tendencies, especially here in the United States, engaging with this literature requires more than just looking at the words on the page. It requires a deep dive into the cultural and historical contexts that shape African American narratives, characters and themes in these works. Take The Water Cure for instance, from the rambling words, sentences with scrambled letters and drawing thrown in throughout, the book truly looks like a mad man’s brain. Without the mini collaboration project and the conversations we had in class, I would have had a much harder time truly understanding the story and how it fit with what we had previously read. 

Upon first reading The Water Cure, I would have never thought to connect it back to Thomas Jerffersons “Query XIV,” given their complexities and contradictions. In Thomas Jefferson’s “Query XIV” he describes someone who is carefree and creative and whose writing is unrestrained, “his imagination is wild and extravagant, escapes incessantly from every restraint of reason and taste, and, in the course of its vagaries, leaves a tract of thought as incoherent and eccentric, as is the course of a meteor through the sky,” and makes it clear this person is not African American (Jefferson, Query XIV). The discussion my group had for the mini collaboration helped me to explore themes of restrained versus unrestrained art, drawing on parallels between Jefferson’s depiction of creativity and his lack of confidence in African Americans to produce creative works. Our discussion led us to a point where we concluded that while African American writers face external and internal constraints and expectations, their creativity and expression can go beyond these limitations. Not only did I make great connections with my peers, but Professor McCoy also played a crucial role in pushing me further in class. 

  After reading The Water Cure, our class found it insightful to talk about the drawings throughout; I commented that the simplicity of them was ominous and creepy. That was the full extent of my thought, but Professor McCoys questions connecting back to Thomas Jefferson prompted me to think about why Percival Everett chose to depict his art this way. It became clear that Everett had read Jefferson’s words claiming African Americans could not even make elementary art, yet Everett produces not only that but also a story filled with seemingly unrestrained and chaotic writing and telling a beautiful story of a man lost in grief. While being prompted to elaborate on my thoughts spontaneously in front of the class is usually anxiety-inducing for me, Professor McCoy’s consistent emphasis on independent THINKing among students proved to be very beneficial to me. Overtime, her reminders empowered me to develop my own perspectives, even if I still had questions to ask. Eventually, her presence became almost inconsequential, allowing the students to engage in meaningful discussions independently and push ourselves and each other to think deeper.

I’ve come to realize that literature and discussions that push us out of our comfort zones or make us slightly uncomfortable are often the most impactful for learning and personal growth. The discussions we had in class, particularly regarding literature and art that initially seemed unconventional or confusing, taught me the value of embracing complexity and ambiguity. 

As I mentioned earlier, the words on the page of African American literature are steeped in historical and cultural contexts. When one can understand these contexts, the literature begins to connect in ways you did not see before. Just like with my experience reading The Water Cure and examining “Query XIV,” I found it necessary to methodically unpack the historical backlash against African Americans by white people. This process helped me grasp the underlying context behind Percival Everett’s writing. My initial reads of each were approached very timidly, as I had heard “just give it the old college try” from a few professors regarding more intricate or dense literature. At the beginning of the semester, this scared me. But after reading through all of that literature and taking the time to engage in meaningful conversations about them, I learned that my abilities were far beyond what I had originally thought. 

Professor McCoy’s emphasis on independent thinking and her encouragement to tackle challenging material with confidence have been instrumental in shaping my approach to literature and class discussions. One key lesson I’ve learned is the importance of slowing down and paying attention to every detail. This became evident when I received feedback on my seed shape essay, where I used diction that didn’t accurately represent my intended message. It was a reminder to be more mindful and deliberate in my writing, ensuring that my words truly reflect my thoughts and arguments. This lesson was also reflected through our study of paratexts and in depth studies and discussions on the authors we were reading in class. Overall, this class has not only deepened my understanding of African American literature but has also expanded my confidence in engaging with complex themes and concepts. 

The seed shape as defined by Ron Eglash in his book “African Fractals” is a fundamental motif in African American design and culture, it exhibits self-similarity and complexity on multiple levels. Although the seed shape and other forms of African Fractal design seem to reflect nature, Eglash makes sure to state that “for those rare cases in which African fractals are representations of nature, it is clearly a self-conscious abstraction, not a mimetic reflection. The geometric thinking that goes into these examples may be simple, but it is quite intentional,” (Eglash, 53). Eglash emphasizes the tendency to overlook intentional abstraction in African design and challenges the primitive narrative imposed by colonialism. He works to highlight the intentionality behind African thinking and within their culture. Exploring the seed shape further, one can see how its purposes and principles can be applied to much of African American literature and culture that is being taught (especially) in the United States. It is important to understand that the seed shape is a simple one designed with a scaling property, meaning one can examine the shape at different levels of magnification. Understanding the intentional abstraction and scaling properties is particularly significant when studying African American literature, culture and history, as it underscores the complexities behind seemingly simple narratives. Much like fractals, African American experiences often require an in depth examination, requiring one to zoom in to scrutinize individual stories and zoom out to comprehend broader societal norms designed to perpetuate narratives of inferiority. 

Unveiling the layers of African American literature requires the study of African American narratives on an in depth scale. In Alice Walker’s “Everyday Use” a clear enemy is made of one of the daughters, Dee. After being away for some time Dee comes home and tries to claim some old quilts which had been promised to her sister Maggie. Dee exclaims “Maggie can’t appreciate these quilts!” she said. “She’d probably be backward enough to put them to everyday use,” (Hill, 1801), and tries to explain that she wants to preserve them and not use them. Dee often emerges as the focal point for criticism due to her portrayal by her mother, the narrator. It is crucial to recognize the limiting perspective of Dee’s mother that has been influenced by her own experience and trauma; and how Walker chooses to show this. Their daunting past leads to a very colorful portrayal of Dee. While Dee’s actions may seem confrontational, her desire to preserve her family’s heritage reflects wanting a deeper connection to her roots and pursuit of her own identity. This narrative, like many other African American storytellers, invites the reader to consider the complexities within familial relationships. Within every story, true or not, the narrator’s individual perspective shapes interpretations of heritage and identity within the African American experience. This is an example of “zooming in” on the pieces of a narrative that influence the way readers feel about certain characters. 

Exploring how African American writers historically sought approval from white audiences in order to be able to publish and to influence white minds, reveals a complex dynamic reflective of the recursive nature of the seed shape. In literature such as Frederick Douglass and Harriet Jacobs’s slave narratives, the influence of white readership is evident in strategic plots and diction that catered to white sensibilities. Douglass, for instance, strategically appealed to educated white women, knowing that they had potential influence in abolitionist circles and with their husbands. Douglass begins by appealing to women (specifically mothers) emotions stating, “I never saw my mother, to know her as such, more than four or five times in my life; and each of these times was very short in duration, and at night,” (Hill, 276), and dramatically recalling never seeing her in the light of day. By modifying or emphasizing certain parts of their narratives, African American writers have had to navigate the intricacies of power dynamics in a racist society. The need for validation from white folk comes in a more literal sense too, as African American writers often needed a white intellect to give their stamp of approval on the narratives otherwise most of the population would take the narratives as falsehoods. The recursive pattern of seeking acceptance within systems of oppression mirrors the fractal-like nature of African American experiences within broader social contexts. Thus, zooming out to explore larger landscapes and societal institutions emphasizes the struggles behind African American literature and the strategies employed to navigate white dominated spaces.

Bernice Johnson Reagan’s “Nobody Knows the Trouble I see” serves as a critique of the idealization of Martin Luther King Jr. and the oversimplification of civil rights activism. Throughout her work, Reagan challenges the common tendency to idolize King as the sole hero of the civil rights movement and urges readers to recognize the collective efforts of countless individuals overlooked in mainstream education and media. Reagan claims “the Civil Rights Movement was peopled by ordinary people who did extraordinary things, and that included the leaders,” and hints that the real challenge is looking at who tells the stories of African American history (Reagon, 112). By highlighting the struggles and contributions of ordinary people, Reagon’s critique changes the prevailing notion of only focusing on charismatic leaders. Instead, she emphasizes the grassroots activism and the everyday acts of resistance that pushed the movement forward. This deconstruction of a simplistic narrative created within the American education system not only honors the unsung heroes of the Civil Rights era but also invites a reevaluation of historical narratives that marginalize African American voices. Reagon therefore does work to zoom in, on those overlooked initially and zoom out focusing on why the Civil Rights Movement has been portrayed with one main hero. 

The exploration of the seed shape in African American literature unveils layers of complexity and interconnectedness within the African American experiences previously covered by Eurocentric arrogance. Just as the seed shape represents self-similarity and complexity on multiple levels, so do the narratives crafted by African American writers. Through the scaling properties inherent in the seed shape, these narratives challenge simplistic interpretations and confront the primitive narratives imposed by colonialism and continue until today. They invite readers to scrutinize individual stories while also zooming out to comprehend broader societal norms perpetuating narratives of inferiority. Moving forward with intention, there is a need to continue navigating the complexities of African American experiences and narratives, using the seed shape as a lens through which one can see the recursive nature of African American literature and examine it with scaling methods. Through this ongoing exploration, readers can deepen their understanding of African American identity, heritage and resilience; moving past over simplistic narratives that do not encapsulate all African American life. 

Works Cited

Eglash, Ron. African Fractals: Modern Computing and Indigenous Design. Rutgers   University Press, 2005.

Hill, Patricia Liggins. Call and Response: The Riverside Anthology of the African American Literary Tradition. Houghton Mifflin, 1998.

Reagon, Bernice Johnson. “‘Nobody Knows the Trouble I See’; or, ‘By and By I’m Gonna Lay Down My Heavy Load.’” The Journal of American History, June 1991, pp. 111–119, https://doi.org/10.2307/2078089.