Tarty Teh: an Analysis of Metaphor in "Affirmative Action: Before I Turned Black"

Tarty Teh
Image Credit: The Washington Post

            Tarty Teh, a Liberian dissident journalist, died February 14, 2012; he was not yet 66 years old. Blojlu (Blojlu's Blog), a forum “dedicated to the discussion of Liberia’s pregnant issues” posted Teh’s article on February 29, 2012, entitled “Affirmative Action: Before I Turned Black”—a metaphorical commentary on the function of affirmative action policies in the United States. Since metaphor speaks to the mind’s images—and these images are the roots of our belief systems (Are you picturing a tree? Images are dug deep in the dark earth of our psyches; verbal expressions via words and articulations of thought are the leaves whispering in the wind of our consciousness)—Teh’s article seeks to describe his own personal narrative as it relates to the context of affirmative action. Metaphors abound! Quite effectively, Teh describes a personal story that frames affirmative action in metaphors, touching a most primitive part of our collective unconscious where we are evoked through image. By articulating his personal narrative metaphorically, he brings the issue of affirmative action to the surface and provides a moving and valid argument for its just place in American public policy. Let’s examine Teh’s metaphors: 

           

            In the second paragraph of his article, Teh expresses frustration with those opposed to affirmative action policies, who “have managed to treat it as if it were a crutch for the permanently disabled.” True, many right wing conservatives bemoan policies of affirmative action and decry them as unfair; however, images of crutches, immobility and permanent disability far exaggerate the realities of affirmative action. Affirmative action does not support individuals who are inherently flawed (crippled) based on race (as the image of a “crutch” evokes): rather, affirmative action policies attempt (in small part) to return that which was previously taken. For instance, if my friend takes my most precious necklace against my wishes—would it be fitting (just/equitable/logical) for her to give me my necklace as a wrapped gift on my next birthday? Absolutely not: it was mine to begin with; it was not hers to give—it was hers to return.



Broadway & Myrtle
Image Credit: Google Streetview

            Teh’s narrative takes place after midnight in New York City, at the intersections of Broadway and Myrtle Avenues in Brooklyn. He describes the scene as “dark and dangerous,” an apt reference to racial tensions in the early 1970’s. Teh’s assertion that “the bad thing that was now happening to me, I blamed on myself” correlates to internalized racism. Teh states that he is “aware that motorists treat bicycles as a superfluous contraption;” riding his bicycle home from work, he is, therefore, careful to obey the traffic rules. Teh’s bicycle is a metaphor for affirmative action—a policy that, like Teh’s bicycle—opponents argue is unnecessary, unneeded. Motorists in this narrative represent the population—the majority of whom (in the early 1970’s) were white. Following the rules (law), Teh waits patiently at the intersection of Broadway, Myrtle and Jefferson: “I waited for the traffic signal to favor me.” Waiting, waiting, waiting: black people in the United States have been waiting since the early 1600’s for racial equality.

           

Image Credit: Google Maps

            Finally, the light changes and Teh begins making his way through the intersection, but is nearly run down by an angry white man driving into Teh’s side of the road, slamming his brakes and screaming racial epitaphs. This is akin to the progress (as through an intersection) attained in returning full citizenship rights to blacks in the United States through affirmative action policies—and the interruptions to that progress that occur when opponents rail against affirmative action and endeavor to eliminate it. Just as there was seemingly no end in sight to racial injustices during the early 1970’s, Teh says, “I saw no indication that this would end soon” and, “If only I could get beyond this interception with my life.” Interception—not intersection—is an appropriate (and interesting) word choice. When I first read Teh’s article, I believed that he intended ‘intersection,’ but when considered through a metaphorical lens, ‘interception’ is the more apt term: to cut off, seize, capture, interrupt. That is precisely the nature of African American History in the United States since the early 1600’s. Blacks have been intercepted from their lives; policies of affirmative action seek to give back that which has already been taken. Don’t gift that which was mine to begin with.

Broadway & Myrtle
Image Credit: Google Streetview

Now in the middle of Broadway and Myrtle, an angry white man screaming at him, cars backing up in both directions, a black motorist stops to defend Teh. Teh’s defender is a metaphor for the Civil Rights Movement: a moment in our collective history as a nation, when people of many colors, genders, creeds and religions, stopped and said: Enough! The traffic signal turns to red, Teh peddles safely through the intersection. Affirmative action—his bicycle—carries him through; Teh was held back when it was his turn (green light) to continue through the intersection. Doubtful, he takes the opportunity to continue through the intersection (because “my brother told me to”)—an opportunity which had previously been taken from him by the angry white man screaming obscenities. The “right to proceed through the intersection” is a metaphor for freedom of conscience, for the right to live unfettered and according to one’s own design, spurred by the Civil Rights Movement.

Long before black and white color lines were drawn in these United States (prior to the 17^th century), Africans had the same freedoms (and sometimes absence of freedoms) as that of peoples from all other nations on all other continents. Though slavery existed before the birth of the United States, it was colorblind. Never before, had a race of people been subjected to slavery based solely on skin color. This is what Teh refers to when he says, “I once had the right to proceed through the intersection.” When Teh declares “that right had been held up by a man with a big car and mouth,” it is a metaphor for the institution of slavery in the United States—and the intergenerational repercussions related thereto and continuing today (i.e., the criminalization of black youth, etc.). Teh continues, “that right had been restored back to me only when the traffic light turned decidedly red, and I turned black.” This is affirmative action: rights that are being restored—not extra benefits based on skin color. Teh admits that affirmative action can seem unfair to the majority (white men); his metaphor, “my rights were affirmed just then; but somebody lost a turn” speaks to this. Yes, affirmative action means that someone will lose a turn—but only because someone whose turn had been taken away is being given their turn back now.

           

            Just as the cars in Teh’s intersection (interception!) back up and several motorists miss their opportunity to proceed, our collective progress as human beings has been held back (to our own detriment!) by fruitless debates on the validity of affirmative action. Hopefully, policies of affirmative action will, someday, no longer be needed. That day, however, is not today.