Meditation, Anointing and Anger in Beyoncé's #Lemonade

There's very little that I can add to the conversation about Beyoncé's latest visual masterpiece, Lemonade. The pros, cons, dos and don'ts have already been talked to death, and all the best things have been said. But truthfully I'm more interested in how Lemonade makes me feel. I want to interrogate the reactions I had to what I consider to be one of the most profound pieces of work ever created by a black woman, both artistically and economically.

I watched Lemonade, end to end, on my own. I turned my phone off, silenced my notifications, and paid attention to the journey that Beyoncé had decided to take me on. I watched in awe as black women congregated and communed with each other as Beyoncé lay bear her own feelings and tapped into universal truths about existing both black and female. I cried as a Mardi Gras Indian blessed a dinner table full of empty chairs; places set for people who could never join the offering.

Much has been made of Becky with the good hair; an attempt by white women to find something recognizable to latch onto in a sea of womanhood both public and commercial, that for the first time, deliberately excludes them. But Becky is beside the point. Because the point is that Beyoncé sees us. Beyoncé sees and acknowledges black women and our struggles, and she centered her art around affirming our hurt, our pain, our suspicion and our betrayal. Beyoncé made an (another) album about being a black woman, and the pain and joy that it can entail.


Guiding us through the stages of grief, Beyoncé weaves a story of pain, heartbreak and most of all anger, that is all too familiar to black women. Routinely, we are labelled as crazy or unpredictable without acknowledgement of the abuse that warranted that reaction. We are betrayed and told his infidelity is our sin to bear, we're mocked for our attempts to become the women the world holds in high esteem. Lemonade explores the blatant lies and half-truths that black women are forced to swallow and the pathology we are cursed to bear. But most importantly it justifies the delicious destruction born of righteous and justified anger. It allows our anger, ever stymied, always dismissed, to bubble over, froth and foment, and acknowledges it as a valid reaction to repeated abuse. As Ijeoma Oluo writes in the Guardian:

This expectation of black women to suffer in silence is passed from generation to generation. Beyoncé explores this inheritance unflinchingly: "You remind me of my father - a magician, able to exist in two places at once/In the tradition of men in my blood you come home at 3am and lie to me."

And it is this inheritance that Beyoncé rejects throughout Lemonade. She refuses to suffer in silence, and instead delves deep into the hurt and betrayal that has rended her life and her love apart, and encourages us all to do the same. She rips our generational burden to shreds and sets herself and us, on a path to redemption through shared communion. The hurt she explores here is real and familiar; an old prophecy passed from mother to daughter and back again, repeated ad infinitum until it fulfills itself. It is a battle we prepare for from the moment we are old enough to distinguish our blackness.

For Feminists Who Resort To Racism When Slut Shaming Is Not Enough

White Feminists, we need to have a chat about this unruly beast we call feminism, and the intersection of race and sexuality. I like to assume that you mean well, but you've been fucking up quite a bit in the last few months, and I think it's my duty as your presumptive sister-in-arms to do some minor course correcting for all our sakes.

Beyoncé has been Beyoncé-ing for over a year now and you're still questioning her feminist credentials because her praxis doesn't match yours. Nicki Minaj has been vocal about her feminism for years but you revoked her credentials because she made a video about her exquisitely crafted rear end and rapped about the men who want to fuck her. To me, all that debate sounded a lot like judgement of other women for the way they chose to express their sexuality. This really confuses me because I thought that sexual agency was a cornerstone of contemporary feminist thought. After all, a woman's body is her own, and what she chooses to do with it or how she chooses to exercise and experience her sexuality is up to her alone.

Except, apparently, if you're black.

I'm seeing a trend of people labeling any sexual black female as an anti-feminist sexualized object & not discussing the nuances of agency.
— Michelle Huxtable (@MichelleHux) September 16, 2014

I've spent the last few months reading piece after piece and comment after comment decrying Beyoncé and Nicki for catering to the male gaze with no acknowledgement that agency plays a significant role in how perforative sexuality becomes. I've read thinkpiece after thinkpiece about why these two women are detrimental to the feminist movement because they take pleasure in exploring and embracing their sexuality publicly. The main issue that keeps cropping is the male gaze. Supposedly, because Beyoncé and Nicki perform in ways that are traditionally sexy, they must be performing for the male gaze, and doing so is decidedly unfeminist.

Well here's where your lesson starts white ladies, because I'm about to drop a truth bomb: the fact that something appeals to the male gaze, does not mean that it exists for the male gaze. It's really as simple as that.

a feminism that centers men is not feminism at all
— Tracy Clayton (@brokeymcpoverty) September 21, 2014

anyway. you can't make feminism all about men. you cant let it revolve around how men respond or what they see/think
— Tracy Clayton (@brokeymcpoverty) September 21, 2014

I know. Totally revolutionary right?

As I've said before, framing every instance of females sexuality from the perspective of the male gaze is not only extremely heteronormative, but it strips women of their sexual agency and ignores intersectional approaches to feminism. It completely negates the possibility that a woman can be sexual for her own enjoyment or pleasure. And while feminism is explicitly about dismantling the patriarchy and allowing women to be free of sexist expectations, making choices based on what does or doesn't appeal to patriarchal presumptions makes one literally beholden to that very system. If all your choices are direct responses to the patriarchy, you are still reactive to its whims, rather than proactive to your own desires.

If you don't do femme because men like it you are still influenced by male gaze. That's the point, reclaim the gaze & center YOUR feelings
— Shaadi (@tgirlinterruptd) October 8, 2014

Until we are truly post-racial, (so never...) the racial divide will always matter in feminism. This means that our feminisms will differ depending on our intersections, and that's okay. It is perfectly acceptable to acknowledge that different women have different needs. But the constant gatekeeping of mainstream feminism reveals the deeply entrenched racism within the movement. The face of my feminism isn't going to be the face of yours because we don't have the same concerns and therefore we're looking for different things in the women we look up to. Sexual liberation isn't going to look the same for you as it does for me because we're moving forward from different historical contexts. Embracing and acknowledging this fact rather than rejecting it is key to moving forward in solidarity.

And this is where my issue lies. Being able to safely express sexuality is important for black girls because it's something that was previously out of our control. Sexual agency was legally denied. That context does not exist for white women, and that can make it harder for you to understand how sexuality can be empowering. But just because something doesn't apply to you personally doesn't mean that it is worthless or deserving of derision or ridicule. Because of differences in race, class and sexuality, not everyone's feminist praxis looks the same.

White feminists ask "How do we know she's being sexual because she wants to?" I ask "Why would you assume that isn't the case?" Nicki Minaj's participation in the music industry doesn't lobotomize her or render her incapable of making her own decisions. She has shown time and time again that she is fully capable of directing and controlling her image, so why would you negate her agency now by insisting that she no longer has that power simply because her expressions of sexuality have become more explicit?

An Incomplete (Play)List And Critical Analysis of Beyoncé's Feminist Evolution And Praxis Through Music: Part One

I am 100% certain that absolutely everyone is fed up of hearing me talk about Beyoncé. I've written about her quite a bit in the last few months. It isn't because I'm her biggest fan, but more because I recognize what an amazing economic and political statement her latest album was, and it irks me to see the way so many people have been absolutely determined to downplay her accomplishments.

Beyoncé, a powerful, visible, and extremely famous black woman, managed to drop an album with no advance notice (and zero leaks!) sell over 800 thousand copies in just three days, and go platinum in just under a week. That's a huge deal! And on top of that, she managed to do it with an album that saw her unabashedly embrace feminism; a concept she's been pretty publicly inching towards for some time now.

Now this isn't to suggest that these accomplishments mean either Beyoncé or her feminism is above reproach. Her continued association with Terry Richardson alone is enough to make me judge her, (just a little) but when the majority of criticism lobbied against her effectively scapegoats her for all the perceived problems within the feminist movement (Oversexualized! Too much focus on her marriage!) while refusing to view her music and public image through an intersectional lens, I get annoyed. Can we please let a black woman prosper?

What people keep forgetting is that Beyoncé is not required to be a perfect feminist. No one is. Such a magical unicorn simply does not exist. Contrary to popular belief, feminists are in fact human beings, (even Beyoncé!) and sometimes human beings mess up and get it wrong. To try to "revoke her feminist credentials" over her past mistakes reinforces the idea that feminism is an elitist club that does not welcome new members. And I haven't even gotten to the pretty blatant racial double standard yet.

Personally, I love that Beyoncé has been fairly public about her slow transition from apprehension about feminism to fully embracing it. I think that it's an honest reflection of the way most women come into feminism; bit by bit and piece by piece, slowly building on their understanding of the term, what it means, and how it applies to their life. I love that Beyoncé has admitted to watching videos about feminism on Youtube. For so many women, and especially women who look like her (myself included) the internet and popular culture is exactly how they came into feminism. It's entertaining and refreshing to find that even Beyoncé, Ruler of The Universe, accesses feminism in this way, and in turn, contributes to this practice by inserting feminist ideals into her music. It also reinforces for me, that Beyoncé is figuring this thing out in exactly the same way the rest of us did, and she deserves the room to slowly and carefully expand her feminist understanding.

I've always loved Beyoncé's music, but I didn't really consider myself a full-fledged fan until after the release of her latest album. Looking back however, it's clear to me that although Beyoncé has only just started cozying up to Feminism: The Ideology, she's be flirting with it for almost the entirety of her career. From Bills, Bills, Bills to ***Flawless, feminist themes have always been a subtle presence in her music. So here, in approximate chronological order, is part one of "An Incomplete (Play)List And Critical Analysis of Beyoncé's Feminist Evolution And Praxis Through Music."

Some Cobbled Together Thoughts On The #BanBossy Campaign

I've been thinking a lot about Sheryl Sandberg's new #BanBossy campaign over the last week or so since it debuted. I've read the thinkpieces both for and against, and even the ones that fell in the middle of the road. And after considering all of the very valid critiques, I've realized why this campaign bugs me so much: it's completely counter-intuitive. 

Bear with me as I try to explain this as best as I can because it literally just came to me in the shower this morning.

I appreciate what #BanBossy is trying to achieve. The website's downloadable PDF for girls gives tips like "speak up in class," "stop apologizing before you talk" and "challenge yourself" in order to combat the ideas that women and girls cannot or do not want to lead. The fact that the confidence gap starts so early is definitely cause for alarm, and challenging these attitudes is an issue that deserves attention. 

But don't all these tips amount to asking girls to be more bossy?

The purpose of this campaign is essentially to make it okay for girls to be bossy while simultaneously asking for us to stop teaching girls that being bossy is bad. Which is fine. Great even. So then why #banbossy at all? It's quite the mixed message when you think about it. 

We are asking girls to be more assertive, take on more leadership roles and speak out more. These are all things that bossy people do. The problem here isn't the word bossy, it's the way the word is applied in a gendered context. We WANT girls to be bossier. We WANT them to be assertive and to feel confident and empowered enough to assert their worth. So asking them to shy away from a word that precisely describes this behaviour is more than a little silly when you really examine the semantics involved. 

Nicki Minaj's "Bossed Up" rant has been making the rounds as a counterpoint to this campaign, and with good reason. In the video Nicki explains quite well that the problem we have as a society isn't with bossy behaviours but rather with who is doing the "bossing up." When a man does it, we praise him. When a woman does it, we call her a bitch. 

But to me, the solution isn't to stop calling people bossy. The solution is to work towards removing that negative and gendered connotation from the word. The solution is reclaiming it. In all the discussions around this campaign, the one idea that kept coming back to me was this:

As do bossy women. Which is why it amuses me so much that "bossy" is being touted as "the other b-word."

I think that the #BanBossy campaign has definitely touched on a key issue in the fight for feminism, but I also think they maybe didn't think this all the way through. We shouldn't be teaching girls to shrink away from a word like bossy. We should be teaching them to accept it, love it, and wear it as a badge of honour. If someone calls you bossy, it's because they see you as a threat to the status quo. They know you're here to shake things up. For many black women for example, "bossy is an anthem, not a pejorative" revealing yet another blind spot in Sandberg's approach. Asking us to ban a word that we wear with pride, is the equivalent of taking away yet another of the tools we use to navigate our different experience as women of colour.

#BanBossy would have been much better served by teaching girls to revel in the glory of their bossiness, and to use it to demand an equal place. So as much as I love you Beyoncé, I'm with bell hooks on this one.

The Beyoncé Conversation: Feminism, Black Women and The Presumption Of Sexual Agency

It's been a while since I've posted a substantial essay, but I wanted to stop in and talk about an issue that's very important to me as a black, sex-positive feminist. That is, sex, obviously; specifically the sex that black women are or are not having, and how the conversation about their sexual agency keeps getting derailed.

As I've written about several times now, (here, here and relatedly here) conversations about sex and sexuality become very different when you are talking about a black body. This is because of the historical context of the negative sexual stereotypes that were applied to those bodies in order to dehumanize, subjugate and ridicule them, and elevate white (female) sexuality in the process. Black men were uncontrollable, brute savages who would rape a white woman as soon as look at her, and black women were lascivious whores, always searching for a dick, unrapeable by their very existence.

The loaded racist history of these still prevalent tropes leaves black women especially, in a misogynoirist double bind. Either we deny our sexuality entirely in order to be considered respectable and worthy (not so coincidentally placing ourselves firmly into Mammy territory), or embrace our sexuality, as all women should have the right to do, and be seen as a confirmation of negative black sexual stereotypes.

In effect, our choices as sexual beings are wrapped up in a lose-lose catch-22 that denies our agency from the outset, and punishes us for trying to exercise it. All the while, black women's bodies continue to be used to ridicule our very existence and deify white female sexuality.

So what does this have to do with Beyoncé? Everything.

***Flawless: On "BEYONCÉ"; The Album, The Woman, The Feminist

There's been a lot written online about Beyoncé in the last week and a half. Between the initial frenzy of the release of her new album, the delight over her overtly feminist messages and the almost instantaneous backlash that Beyoncé the woman (and the body of work) was both anti-feminist, or simply not feminist enough, we've all had Beyoncé on the brain. While I did write a essay about her song Partition and had plans to write another piece examining the album as a whole, I've realized that many other writers have already done a much better job than I ever could have. There is already an amazing canon of work that critically analyzes this new album. Here are a few of my favourite pieces in approximate publication order:

1. That Time Beyoncé's Album Invalidated Every Criticism of Feminism Ever by Christina Coleman
2. Beyoncé's New Self-Titled LP Is The Feminist's Album Of 2013 by Hayden Manders
3. Beyoncé's New Self-Titled Album Is A Manifesto of Black Womanhood And Freedom from Gradient Lair
4. Beyoncé Drops Her Feminist Manifesto from The Melissa Harris Perry Show
5. 5 Reasons I'm Here For Beyoncé, The Feminist from Crunk Feminist Collective
6. Beyoncé's New Album Should Silence Her Feminist Critics by Mikki Kendall
7. Beyoncé Samples Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie's TEDx Message On Surprise Album by Kate Torgovnick May
8. On Defending Beyoncé: Black Feminists, White Feminists, And The Line In The Sand by Mia McKenzie
9. Flawless: 5 Lessons in Modern Feminism From Beyoncé by Eliana Dockterman
10. Why Beyoncé's Feminism Is The Same AsYours: Unconventional And Flawed by Mikki Kendall
11. All Hail The Queen? from BitchMagazine
12. Beyoncé's New Album Is A Feminist Manifesto by Sarah Ditum

*****

What I love about this album is that the feminist themes run throughout; they are not just limited to the one song in which she explicitly invokes it. The album deals almost directly with the many criticisms that Beyoncé has fielded this year, and tackles them head on. 

BEYONCÉ the album is also amazing because it approaches feminism, through music, from an intersectional perspective. The songs and the visuals deal explicitly with the experience of black womanhood. The tracks on this album allow Beyoncé to cycle through every emotion imaginable; which is a big deal when we consider that black women are often not permitted access to the full spectrum of emotion. From struggling with body image in Pretty Hurts, to being madly in love with her husband in Drunk In Love, to openly exploring her sexual desires in Blow and Partition, to revealing her vulnerabilities in Jealous, to embracing her feminism and politics in ****Flawless, to mourning a friend in Heaven; this album presents Beyoncé, a black woman, as a full and complete person who fully explores and embraces the many facets of her personality. Not once does Beyoncé shy away from her true self in order to adhere to commonly understood rules of propriety.

Much has been made about how explicitly sexual this album is, but to me, it's one of its shining points. Dealing with the Jezebel stereotype is a daily struggle for black women. So much so, that people have difficulty even with the idea that a black woman being sexual could be doing so for her own satisfaction, rather than with the intent of gaining male attention. Here, Beyoncé throws all that away; she sheds the burden of stereotype threat entirely, deciding to do what she wants, when she wants, and to hell with those who refuse to understand. This album is sex-positive in a very powerful way, and that's an important message for black women to receive. It's incredibly important that black women know that they do not have to shrink themselves or deny themselves access to pleasure in pursuit of respectability.

The general public has this impenetrable image of Beyoncé as a flawless, immaculate being who never missteps or makes a mistake. It's not a hard theory to support after all; we're talking about Beyoncé. But with this body of work, she goes a long way to knowingly and willingly shatter that image and show that she has a lot of the same identity struggles as we do. Being famous and rich changes her specific perspective on her intersection as a black woman, but with this album Beyoncé invites us to see how she's figured out how to deal with them.

This album is like a love letter to black women everywhere. It's a call to arms; it is musical permission to embrace ourselves and each other unconditionally. It is a manifesto of self love, self-assurance and self care. It is a statement of joy that she has invited us to be a part of.

For me, it's the best album of the year.

Est-Ce Que Tu Aimes Le Sexe?: Yoncé Brings Feminism To Its Knees

There is a longer more fleshed out essay on  BEYONCÉ in the works, (which probably won't be published until next week at this rate) but in rewatching King Bey's magnum opus, I have been uncovering gem after gem of naked feminist ideology, and I can't get enough.

The latest little gem I found is this subversive little quote cleverly inserted in French into Partition, a song about Bey getting it on with Jay Z in the back of a limo on the way to the club:

"Est-ce que tu aimes le sexe? Le sexe, je veux dire l'activité physique, le coït, tu aimes ça? Tu ne t'intéresses pas au sexe? Les hommes pensent que les féministes déstestent le sexe mais c'est une activité très stimulante et naturelle que les femmes adorent."

According to friends who are much smarter than me, the above translates to:

"Don't you like sex? Sex. I mean sex, the physical activity. Fucking. You like that? You're not interested in sex? Men think feminists don't like sex, but it's a very fun and natural activity that women love."

So... can we please talk about this? I'm not sure of the origins of this quote (so please tell me if you know) (according to other friends much smarter than me, the quote is from The Big Lebowski). Beyoncé is revealing some truths here.

This year, there was a lot of discussion of Beyoncé's feminism; or more precisely whether or not mainstream (read: white) feminism deemed her feminist enough. Short answer? They didn't, and a lot of that criticism, was directly related to the fact that Beyoncé's image is consistently and deliberately very sexy and sexual. (White) Feminism claimed that Beyoncé was not an adequate role model because "[...] variations of Beyonce's body suit can be found in brothels, strip clubs, and red light districts across the world - where sex is for sale and it happens to be dispensed through a woman's body." 

You read that right. Beyoncé's costumes are the equivalent to those that sex workers wear. Clearly their proximity to the sex work of women (who are disproportionately of colour, mind you) makes them inherently bad. Because reasons. Or something.

In any case, the reason I wanted to highlight this quote is because of the way she consciously intermingles her feminism with her sexuality. Partition has references to Jay Z... *ahem*...Monica Lewinsky-ing, on Beyoncé's gown, and to her going down on him in the backseat of a car. And then she drops this quote. In other words, she can be both sexual and a feminist. They are not mutually exclusive.

And we haven't even touched on the very racialized nature of the criticisms that Beyoncé received in the first place. Because while Bey was being reprimanded for posing in her underwear, Miley "Black-Women-Are-Props-For-My-Comeback-Album" Cyrus, was being hailed as a feminist icon. You're deluding yourself if you don't acknowledge that the difference in coverage is directly related to their difference in race.

As I've talked about before, the conversation surrounding black women and sexuality is always coloured by the historical context in which black women's bodies were used against their will; a direct result of their perceived lack of humanity due to their blackness. Because of these ideas, we're stuck with the Jezebel stereotype of inherent and uncontrollable black female sexuality. With this song, Beyoncé has done two things: reclaim her sexuality on her own terms and directly negate the misconception that feminism and sex are incompatible.

By embracing her sexuality; explicitly detailing her kinks and fantasies, she demonstrates that there is nothing uncontrollable about it. Her sexuality is deliberate and fully within her command, and she has every intent to use it as she sees fit; in this case, to pleasure her man (and by extension, herself).

As a black woman myself, this message is powerful to me. This is Beyoncé explicitly saying that there is nothing wrong with exploring your sexuality or your pleasure as a black woman. There's nothing shameful about it, and we should refuse to be ashamed of it. I have had people tell me directly that to consciously embrace my sexuality as a black woman is to reinforce the stereotype of hypersexuality. Which... is unfortunately exactly what less savvy minds will take away from this incredibly powerful political statement. Sex and feminism are not on opposite ends of a spectrum. They are related concepts that inform and influence each other in a myriad of ways.

Sexy Feminist King Beyoncé gets it.