Words are not simple. Maya Angelou said they are things. They are absorbed by people, they fill up rooms, they settle on furniture. Maybe. Like dust. Further, I believe that words carry spirits and intentions. They are magic in that they have the ability to transform, be it for creative or destructive purposes.
So as the daughter of ancestors who were enslaved Africans and as one who is a public relations and marketing professional, I take exception to the word “brand,” the industry term that is so commonly used to articulate one’s identity in the market place.
Yesterday, I was at the New School in New York City where I spoke at a conference entitled “Re-Mixed and Re-Mastered: Defining and Distributing the Black Image in the Era of Globalization.” I was a panelist at the Developing Your Brand and Audience Using Social Media discussion. It was targeted for media makers, mostly those who make films. The discussion was robust and I think invigorating for all of us.
At one point, however, I expressed my long-standing objection to the marketing terms “brand” and “branding.” I actually loathe the words and don’t use them at my agency. I get that they are popular industry terms. Don’t care. And I understand the possible dismissive reactions to my stance. Still don’t care. (I also don’t refer to my ancestors as “slaves.” Rather, I acknowledge what happened to them: They were enslaved Africans. (At the panel, no one seemed to disagree with my explanation, by the way.)
During the American era of enslavement, Black people in this country were sold as chattel and marked, with branding rods, for identification and ownership purposes. So when I hear “brand,” my mind conjures up images of sizzling, burned flesh. I hear people wailing. I hear screams like sirens, piercing. I don’t want to yet I can’t help but see images of a great, great, great aunt perhaps, restrained and anchored by rusty chains. The “slave trader” is holding a fired-up branding rod. Maybe it has the letter “W” on it. My aunt is scrambling for her life – madly, desperately trying to dodge the scorching iron that is aimed at her left shoulder blade. She can’t escape and must submit. Her family is nearby watching her body jolt and wither. Her eyes roll back and she passes out. Her husband, her daughters, and her siblings are nearby watching, horrified. They would give their lives to have her released but they have no power that will save her in that moment. Barely able to breathe themselves, they smell her seared flesh. They also taste their own vomit. They are next.
During the American era of enslavement, Black people in this country were sold as chattel and marked, with branding rods, for identification and ownership purposes. So when I hear “brand,” my mind conjures up images of sizzling, burned flesh. I hear people wailing. I hear screams like sirens, piercing. I don’t want to yet I can’t help but see images of a great, great, great aunt perhaps, restrained and anchored by rusty chains. The “slave trader” is holding a fired-up branding rod. Maybe it has the letter “W” on it. My aunt is scrambling for her life – madly, desperately trying to dodge the scorching iron that is aimed at her left shoulder blade. She can’t escape and must submit. Her family is nearby watching her body jolt and wither. Her eyes roll back and she passes out. Her husband, her daughters, and her siblings are nearby watching, horrified. They would give their lives to have her released but they have no power that will save her in that moment. Barely able to breathe themselves, they smell her seared flesh. They also taste their own vomit. They are next.
—
I am tethered to my history and my ancestors are ever-present. Their presence is not rhetorical. I recall them as real live people who had skin and bones. I think about their feelings, their ideas, and their aspirations. I think about what they cooked, what smells lingered in their homes. I hear girls laughing, I see hands playing in the earth’s soil…all of it. When I gaze at the moon on pensive nights, I wonder about what they thought when they did the same. They constantly call me by name. Always in my left ear. I honor them by not taking their lives, nor what was done to them, lightly.
As a business owner of African ancestry whose work requires that I shape and transmit messages, I opt not to use the word “brand” in my conversations about marketing. Of all the freedoms that I have today, surely I can disregard industry norms that don’t suit me. Navigating the marketplace in today’s business world need not be analogous to inhumane behavior. The notion or process of identifying and promoting one’s mark (marketing) is, in essence, about finding one’s own signature. At AKILA WORKSONGS, we simply use “signature” or “identity” to replace the word “brand.”
I do understand that it’s common for people to use words, but not know their depth or historical context. I get it but I’ve never been that casual. It’s doubtful that my feminine energy, search-for-the-deeper meaning Gemini self will ever have such a superficial relationship to anything, especially words. I’m grateful that I am free to define my own terms.
Updated 11 June 2013
I consider myself a conscious business woman, but have never considered the power of the word "brand." Eye opening! Thank you.
Glad to share a different way of looking at things.
thank-you for giving voice to what I have always in my heart, felt. Signature or unique are much better words and yes words are very important.
Thank you sister for this blog post. I really like your blog/website. May God continue to bless and keep you. Thanks for the inspiration through your writing. I am a relatively new blogger. Please visit my blog called It's All About Love at latoshalove.blogspot.com.
Peace and Blessings,
LaTosha Brown
Thanks for this post April, I don't often have time to read during the busy day (have you considered reading your posts and creating podcasts?) but for some reason I took the 5 minutes today and am thankful I did.
I walk in this world with white skin and yet I carry the history of African & Native American peoples. I so deeply appreciate your ability to ello share the broader historical context of a word that to so many simply represents logos and slogans of Levis, Apple, etc…
I can now carry this clarity with me as I work with clients and move ever deeper into marketing, PR & social media.
with Gratitude,
Aeron
With all respect, I find this post to be extremely inflammatory.
You said, "I do understand that it’s common for people to use words, but not know their depth or historical context."
Well do you know your history? The act of branding livestock has been around since the ancient Egyptians.