May 20, 2011

On Friday, I penned a commentary piece for Clutch Magazine, asking the question: Is Beyonce the Face of Contemporary Feminism?

Of course, I expected backlash for putting Beyonce and feminism in the same sentence. But truthfully, everything written in that article represents a shift in identity for many women across the United States.

It’s not that Beyonce is the next Gloria Steinem or Angela Davis. Simply put, she represents a brand of feminism in which women are tired of suppressing their sexual selves in exchange for being labeled a powerhouse for all of their other multidimensional qualities.

I find it interesting that many women claim to love Beyonce for “superficial” reasons, but clearly identify with her music in some capacity. As listed in the article, Beyonce represents many aspects of womanhood between the success of her career and her sexual confidence. The question remains:

Why does her sexuality (in terms of public expression) conflict with feminism?

Is feminism not about empowering our whole selves?

I find it interesting that traditional feminists conveniently forget that black women have been hip dipping and gyrating for centuries. Beyonce isn’t the queen of anything new, but she is representative of a staple in our ancestral dance culture.

Why is it now “hypersexual” in the context of mainstream media? Because white people are watching? I’m more concerned about finding ways to incorporate our culture and sex-positive discussions into the feminist movement. Frankly, “they” are the last priority on my list of concerns.

It’s one thing to complain that there are too many Beyonce’s in the media. I’d agree, but suggesting that she isn’t about the empowerment of women is blasphemy. Too many Destiny’s Child songs and black female karaoke sessions have proved otherwise. And there’s a reason why our First Lady can publicly state that she loves Beyonce.

Beyonce plays her role in feminism and admittedly, she’s not the spokesperson for “the pay gap between men and women or the degrading lyrics of hip-hop,” as my writer-friend Bene Viera argued. Her brand of empowerment definitely focuses on women stepping outside of the realm of shame for being sexually confident, independent, and driven in their careers.

I am disappointed in feminists that simply label Beyonce, tits and ass. Her multi-platform success has proven otherwise, she’s not just “another video vixen.” Until feminism stops becoming a clique and something primarily exclusive of the Academy, it will continue to lose power and fail to connect with a new generation of women.

Does Beyonce represent every woman? Absolutely, not. She caters to a particular feminine side of our gender and those who aren’t afraid to wear sexual confidence on their sleeves.

Many women relate to rocking freakum dresses, graduating from prestigious universities, building powerhouse careers, and loving their families, all at the same time. Regardless of whether or not you agree with Beyonce’s body performance politics, we ought to inspire young women to be confident in every aspect of themselves…not just the non-sexual characteristics.

Identity is a gumbo.

Powerful. Intelligent. Career-driven. Family-oriented. Feminine. Masculine. Sexual.

All of these adjectives can exist simultaneously. And that’s the feminism that will inspire a revival in the movement. I’m ready for the fourth wave.