Abstract

Recently I’ve been reflecting on the possibility that choices I’ve made and commitments I’ve accepted — choices and commitments like being part of the academy and treating philosophy as a productive way to pursue truths about race and racism — may have made me into Philosophy’s mammy. Confronted with a crystal-clear specter of myself as mammy, I stubbornly hold fast to the belief that my intellectual identity can be defended to all of my intellectual ancestors: my ancestors in the canon of Western Philosophy, but also my intellectual foremothers and forefathers: Audre Lorde, Cherrie Moragua, Toni Morrison, Patricia Hill Collins, Cornel West, Charles Mills. Some of those to whom I owe an intellectual debt are more like cousins. Alongside philosophers like Kristie Dotson and Donna-Dale Marcano, among others, I occupy a very unique position. It is to them, perhaps, that I most need to give an account myself. I believe that I can give an earnest defense that is not simply self-serving, not an easy way out, and not a concession. The goal of this essay is to investigate this worry. What is revealed is not just the personal, social, and professional location of one particular philosophy; Perhaps surprisingly, I may be an inevitable event and valuable stage in the ongoing progress of Black Feminist Philosophy.