This is a photo of my mother's roommate, Jimmi, from when she lived in Paris in the 1960's. Jimmi was American, from California, & went by the stage name Mademoiselle Crème de Coco. Like many Black Americans, she recieved cultural appreciation in 1960's Paris, per my mom's memory 
Western societies' racism operates in different ways. France had--& has--a racism problem, largely directed to Arab ppl, Jewish ppl, & Black African immigrants. It is simultaneously true that the French revere Black Americans & Black American culture.
Jimmi told my mother that she much preferred Paris to the U.S. b/c she did not encounter as much racism there. She eventually left Paris to go tour in Russia. She invited my mom to come & be her assistant; to manage her hats, clothes, wigs, etc. My mom declined. They lost touch.
My political thinking is all over the place, but as I have been reflecting on how we should move forward, I often come back to celebration of who we are. And that most definitely includes a celebration of Black American culture. As well as the fabric of immigration.
I look at this photo of Jimmi & think of how she told my mom she was celebrated in Paris. That's, again, not to discount France's problems w/ racism towards other groups. It's only to say: I think one way--among many--to confront racism is to be more openly appreciative.
A random fun fact about my mom & Jimmi: My mom couldn't find an apartment. She heard about a room for rent in the Latin Quarter. Raced to it. Met Jimmi. Jimmi got a phone call. It was the model Twiggy. Asking for the apartment. Jimmi decided to rent it to my mom instead.
According to my mom--who is not a fabricator--she got to the apartment, Jimmi received the call from Twiggy, had no idea who Twiggy was, & started flipping through a magazine to find a picture of her, while Twiggy was still on the phone. Then rented to my mom. Don't know why.
Here is my mom, from Alaska, vs. Twiggy, from UK, circa 1968
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