Toni Morrison always talks about how she started writing books during this period when black men were writing screw-the-white-man books and how they were, in a way, obsessed with the white gaze. They were actually craving for this gaze. I remember during the discussion with Junot Diaz where she said about Ralph Ellison’s Invisible Man - “invisible to whom? not to me.” And there is something about that…like I admire her because she seems to believe deeply, in a way that is so natural, that her gaze is more important than any other gaze (esp. white, patriarchal). Not to me, like I see you and it’s enough and it shouldn’t matter that other can see you. Others whose gaze has been deemed more significant, more concrete than mine and yours. And I’ve been thinking about it in terms of my writings lately. I write a lot about black women, about me (both being dense and immense subjects to write about.) Most of my writing about black women can be reduced to “no one cares about black women” “here are the many ways black women are invisible and erased.” I write a lot the global lack of curiosity people have about black women. By people I talk about non black women and maybe I shouldn’t care about it. Maybe I shouldn’t care about other people not caring about me, maybe I should feel like my own curiosity for myself is enough even if it feels lonely. And it’s true that black women interest, curiosity and concern for themselves and other black women is enough. It’s enough and it’s a lot. It links us to the rest of the world. I shouldn’t denigrate it, and I mostly don’t. I’ve always felt and thought that validation and affirmation from other black women were the most important things. But anyway I and we shouldn’t denigrate it, it’s enough. The gaze and the curiosity of a black woman for you is important and it makes you exist fully in the world. The gaze of a black woman is a restructuring force, gathers all the fragmented parts of your self and put them in order. It’s enough.