But I am not tragically colored. There is no great sorrow dammed up in my soul, nor lurking behind my eyes. I do not mind at all.
After explaining how she only became aware that she is "colored" after living in the majority-white city of Jacksonville, Hurston states that there is nothing tragic about being colored. Rather than see her African-American heritage as a factor that makes her a victim, Hurston makes clear that she does not view her race as a burden. Despite the fact that she inhabits a world that harbors prejudice based on race, her livelihood is not hindered. This passage is significant because it encapsulates Hurston's desire to illustrate that she sees the concept of race and race-based prejudice as external factors that need not provoke feelings of shame or self-pity.
Even in the helter-skelter skirmish that is my life, I have seen that the world is to the strong regardless of a little pigmentation more of less. No, I do not weep at the world—I am too busy sharpening my oyster knife.
In this passage, Hurston builds on her thesis that a person should not be defined by race and racism but by their own individuality. Having set herself apart from other people who she criticizes for being too focused on the injustices Black Americans endure, Hurston asserts her belief that strong and determined people, regardless of their race, are most successful in life. Hurston states that she does not lament the injustices of the world because she is "too busy sharpening her oyster knife." The metaphor plays on the idiom "the world is my oyster"; by sharpening her oyster knife, Hurston is saying that she is busy pursuing her ambitions and taking advantage of the opportunities available to her.
Sometimes, I feel discriminated against, but it does not make me angry. It merely astonishes me. How can any deny themselves the pleasure of my company? It's beyond me.
In this passage, Hurston acknowledges that she, as a Black American, sometimes finds herself the target of racial discrimination. However, in a tongue-in-cheek statement, Hurston says that her self-confidence means she is immune to being angered. Rather than be affected by the discrimination, Hurston writes that she cannot fathom how someone could resist the pleasure of her delightful company.
I am colored but I offer nothing in the way of extenuating circumstances except the fact that I am the only Negro in the United States whose grandfather on the mother's side was not an Indian chief.
In the opening paragraph of "How It Feels to Be Colored Me," Hurston declares that she is "colored"—a now-antiquated term for Black Americans. Establishing the tongue-in-cheek tone much of the essay takes, Hurston elaborates her statement, saying that she does not claim Native American ancestry—an implicit criticism of the many other Black Americans who did at the time. This passage is significant because it boldly introduces the author's characteristically authoritative yet sarcastic voice.
I remember the very day that I became colored.
Having declared "I am colored" in the opening sentence, Hurston's second paragraph complicates her simple statement by introducing a concept crucial to the essay: becoming colored. Before she "became colored," Hurston simply lived her life in an all-Black town, oblivious to how white Americans would see her as "colored" and project their prejudices onto her. By writing of herself as becoming colored, Hurston highlights how race is a social construct: not something based on humanity being divided into biologically distinct categories but based on socially conditioned prejudices.
Someone is always at my elbow reminding me that I am the granddaughter of slaves. It fails to register depression with me. Slavery is sixty years in the past. The operation was successful and the patient is doing well, thank you.
In this passage, Hurston acknowledges—with sarcasm—the fact that her grandparents were slaves. Hurston is not depressed by this reality. Rather than see herself as a victim of the same American institutions that enslaved her family, Hurston considers the six decades that have passed since slavery's abolition to have been long enough for her to move on. In a metaphor, Hurston likens formerly enslaved Black Americans to a patient who has been operated on and who, sixty years later, is "doing well." This passage is significant because it encapsulates one of Hurston's more controversial views: that the legacy of slavery does not negatively affect her life.
"Good music they have here," he remarks, drumming the table with his fingertips.
While listening to jazz at the New World Cabaret, Hurston is deeply stirred by the rhythms and melodies, feeling the connection of her shared African ancestry with the musicians. At the end of her long description of how the jazz stimulates her emotions, Hurston turns to her white friend, who merely drums his fingertips on the table and remarks on the music being "good." The contrast in each person's reaction to the music is humorous for the reader, but Hurston also shows the contrast to illustrate how she, in such instances, feels her race. Alienated from her white friend, Hurston realizes he only hears the music but that she feels it.
