Pop culture moments in the making are always something to watch, but no one could’ve prepared themselves for what was in store for this year’s Academy Awards. In fact, I hate to bring it back up because it was so annoyingly over-discussed. Still, I’m bringing this to the table again, and ironically, because it doesn’t sit with me how quickly people used this as further proof of Jada Pinkett Smith ruining Will Smith. But, I’m calling bull! It’s one thing to turn on Will (though I don’t agree due to the murky history the Oscars have of uplifting actual predators), but to turn on Jada?
Well, that’s further evidence of my belief that this world is out to get women, especially those who stray from social norms in any shape or form. However, our society has a long-standing history of holding women accountable for the sins or wrongdoing of men.
Time and time again, history has demonstrated that women are expected to not only be pure, holier than thou beings but that when men go astray it is because the woman in his life was a stray arrow. I first learned of this concept in regards to sexuality, but it’s clear like many other aspects of life, that it has a trickle-down impact. Twitter critics came out in droves to crucify Jada because it was speculated that she gave Will a look signaling him to defend her honor, then again because of previous clips of her speaking on their relationship dynamic.
People used this as an opportunity to support their previous arguments that Jada was toxic because she as a woman should’ve willed Will to sit his ass down. They used inaccurate clickbait to have the public believe she had actually spoken against her husband, when in fact, all quotes have been from previous dialogues. While I would love to make this a Black woman issue, this is a woman issue!
This does not negate the fact that this phenomenon may take different shapes when experienced by Black women or be more complicated to navigate. In conversation with xoNecole, Psycho-Historian Shannon Hannaway notes how “blame has historically been shifted to Black women even in instances where the power dynamic in no way reflects the verbiage – even in modern times it is used to describe the events of the past.”
She further highlights Thomas Jefferson and his abusive relationship with Sally Hemings, which has never actually been stated that way in history books. To Hannaways’s point Hemmings, who was a Black slave, is often described as the dead president's “mistress” rather than “a survivor of sexual assault and abuse.”
While purity culture started out as a concept relegated to WASP (White Anglo-Saxon Protestants), I believe respectability politics played a role in Black women attempting to maintain these social constructs no matter how impossible it was due to the controlling images that continued to make a mockery of Black women’s attempts to successfully integrate amongst white women in this way (and many others).
Hannaway says, “Purity culture is very much so a WASP concept, although there are variations throughout the history of this idea, the version we know today in the United States is a direct result of the Cult of Domesticity – a movement that began between 1820 and 1860. To be pure and good was a status symbol for wealthy white women, absolute virtue was a sign of this status and women’s role in keeping the home, raising children, and acting in accordance with purity and goodness.”
“Traditional” womhanood is a farce. Because the femininity script folk speak of when they talk about feminity is a farce created to elevate white women. The purity, piety, domesticity and submissiveness. It is a script.— Ava Anointing (@SoualiganAmazon) July 25, 2020
However, she pinpoints the tipping point and significant difference as it pertains to the racial piece of our intersectional identities being that “...at this same time slavery was still legal, and even after the Civil War, Black women experienced a shift from formal slavery to near-slavery in the homes of wealthy white women and in fact did a majority of home-keeping behind closed doors.”
Hannaway goes on to add, “White women were afforded the privilege to act in accordance with the Cult of Domesticity, whereas Black women and their families were expected and in fact still considered less than despite the end of slavery. Black women did not have the privilege of spending time with their own families, and [were] blamed for their inability to shift careers and be present in their families. Historically Black people have been treated in accordance with white colonial belief systems that commodify bodies and remove personhood, shifting moral righteousness to white people.”
This circles back to my initial point of Black women being held and expected to maintain the same standards as white women, as they are the pinnacle of purity and exemplify the behaviors that we Black women ought to mimic – yet constantly finding our best imitation to be unacceptable merely because of our Brown hues and the status attached to it.
Hannaway continues, “In the world we live in, men and women are socialized in a way that removes the blame from men and places a disproportionate amount of responsibility on women starting at an early age. Research reflects that as early as elementary school, the notion that boys are underachievers and girls are compliant and responsible begins. This is reinforced from then on every day, as children become teenagers and later adults, these roles within society become reinforced until they are locked in.”
We see it everywhere from the home to the boardroom, where Hannaway says women CEOs are held to more grave consequences than men if and when they fail. And even outside of the company, consumers are less likely to continue to allocate their money in the face of an error made by a woman CEO – further speaking to the collective socialization.
And of course, there are religious roots because aren’t there always?
“Women are even tasked with ‘changing’ men and this is a trope seen in even recent movies such as Failure to Launch, The Kissing Booth, Twilight, to name a few: of note, these are all films with a predominantly young, female audience," Hannaway adds.
I would argue that the sentiment of changing men and controlling, er, reining them in when their behavior is not in alignment with white colonial standards fall within the same vein. You see, apparently, it was more telling of Jada Pinkett Smith’s morality and virtue that she wasn’t able to predict her husband's next move and use some type of X-Men-like superpower to shift his mood for the greater good of humanity.
I am exhausted by this narrative that @jadapsmith is the reason for #Willsmith behavior. She’s not responsible for his behavior or his actions.All the stupid videos on YouTube should the taken down. Jada should sue 4 the toxic & misogynistic things being said about her.— Ase (@MelaninKemet) April 22, 2022
When I asked Hannaway to further explain the origin of holding women accountable for the actions of men, she shared an interesting finding. “These belief systems and accepted mythologies gave men the ability to blame women for lustful thoughts by association with the paranormal. When a woman was not Christian and white, this belief was even more likely to be acted upon in accordance with the idea that people of color without a Christian God worked with the Devil, and by causing sinful thoughts were surely to blame.”
Even more eye-opening and disheartening was the reality that Hannaway spoke on:
“The oppression of women has historically been a way for men to maintain power and control. It’s worth noting, that because of this societal structure present in the church and in governments, women’s voices have largely been silenced and erased in history. Additionally, women have been the target of violence in the name of assimilation. One argument that makes the most sense, is that women are human beings with the ability to create life and are necessary to the continuity of humanity. To control women is to control life itself. In matriarchal societies, this oppression does not occur in the way it does in patriarchal societies. In patriarchal societies like modern western civilization, women are commodified and objectified.”
Needless to say, there’s so much more to be said on this matter – all of which is interesting because it holds so much truth. Though we can’t possibly get into it all in this one piece, I hope that this raises the consciousness of people everywhere who have managed to perpetuate these acts of misogyny. If change begins with us, I think it’s critical that we as a culture begin to evaluate on an individual basis the way that we interact with patriarchal scripts.
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Motor City native, Atlanta living. Sagittarius. Writer. Sexpert. Into all things magical, mystical, and unknown. I'll try anything at least once but you knew that the moment I revealed that I was a Sag.
Amber Riley Is In Her Element
Amber Riley has the type of laugh that sticks with you long after the raspy, rhythmic sounds have ceased. It punctuates her sentences sometimes, whether she’s giving a chuckle to denote the serious nature of something she just said or throwing her head back in rip-roarious laughter after a joke. She laughs as if she understands the fragility of each minute. She chooses laughter often with the understanding that future joy is not guaranteed.
Credit: Ally Green
The sound of her laughter is rivaled only by her singing voice, an emblem of the past and the future resilience of Black women stretched over a few octaves. On Fox’s Glee, her character Mercedes Jones was portrayed, perhaps unfairly, as the vocal duel to Rachel Berry (Lea Michele), offering rough, full-throated belts behind her co-star’s smooth, pristine vocals. Riley’s always been more than the singer who could deliver a finishing note, though.
Portraying Effie White, she displayed the dynamic emotions of a song such as “And I'm Telling You I'm Not Going” in Dreamgirls on London’s West End without buckling under the historic weight of her predecessors. With her instrument, John Mayer’s “Gravity” became a religious experience, a belted hymnal full of growls and churchy riffs. In her voice, Nicole Scherzinger once said she heard “the power of God.”
Credit: Ally Green
Riley’s voice has been a staple throughout pop culture for nearly 15 years now. Her tone has become so distinguishable that most viewers of Fox’s The Masked Singer recognized the multihyphenate even before it was revealed that she was Harp, the competition-winning, gold-masked figure with an actual harp strapped to her back.
Still, it wasn’t until recently that Riley began to feel like she’d found her voice. This sounds unbelievable. But she’s not referring to the one she uses on stage. She’s referencing the voice that speaks to who she is at her core. “Therapy kind of gave me the training to speak my mind,” the 37-year-old says. “It’s not something we’re taught, especially as Black women. I got so comfortable in [doing so], and I really want other people, especially Black women, to get more comfortable in that space.”
“Therapy kind of gave me the training to speak my mind. It’s not something we’re taught, especially as Black women."
If you ask Riley’s manager, Myisha Brooks, she’ll tell you the foundation of who the multihyphenate is hasn’t changed much since she was a kid growing up in Compton. “She is who she is from when I met her back when she was singing in the front of the church to back when she landed major roles in film and TV,” Brooks says. Time has allowed Riley to grow more comfortable, giving fans a more intimate glimpse into her life, including her mental health journey and the ins and outs of show business.
The actress/singer has been in therapy since 2019, although she suffered from depression and anxiety way before that. In a recent interview with Jason Lee, she recalls having suicidal ideation as a kid. By the time she started seeing a psychologist and taking antidepressants in her thirties, her body had become jittery, a physical reminder of the trauma stacked high inside her. “I was shaking in [my therapist’s] office,” she tells xoNecole. “My fight or flight was on such a high level. I was constantly in survival mode. My heart was beating fast all the time. All I did was sweat.”
There wasn’t just childhood trauma to account for. After auditioning for American Idol and being turned away by producers, Riley began working for Ikea and nearly missed her Glee audition because her car broke down on the highway while en route. Thankfully, Riley had been cast to play Mercedes Jones. American Idol had temporarily convinced her she wasn’t cut out for the entertainment industry, but this was validation that she was right where she belonged. Glee launched in 2009 with the promise of becoming Riley’s big break.
In some ways, it was. The show introduced Riley to millions of fans and catapulted her into major Hollywood circles. But in other ways, it became a reminder of the types of roles Black women, especially those who are plus-sized, are relegated to. Behind the scenes, Riley says she fought for her character "to have a voice" but eventually realized her efforts were useless. "It finally got to a point where I was like, this is not my moment. I'm not who they're choosing, and this is just going to have to be a job for me for now," she says. "And, that's okay because it pays my bills, I still get to be on television, I'm doing more than any other Black plus-sized women that I'm seeing right now on screen."
The actress can recognize now that she was navigating issues associated with trauma and low self-esteem at the time. She now knows that she's long had anxiety and depression and can recognize the ways in which she was triggered by how the cult-like following of the show conflicted with her individual, isolated experiences behind the scenes. But she was in her early '20s back then. She didn't yet have the language or the tools to process how she was feeling.
Riley says she eventually sought out medical intervention. "When you're in Hollywood, and you go to a doctor, they give you pills," she says, sharing a part of her story that she'd never revealed publicly before now. "[I was] on medication and developing a habit of medicating to numb, not understanding I was developing an addiction to something that's not fixing my problem. If anything, it's making it worse."
“[I was] on medication and developing a habit of medicating to numb, not understanding I was developing an addiction to something that’s not fixing my problem. If anything it’s making it worse.”
Credit: Ally Green
At one point, while in her dressing room on set, she rested her arm on a curling iron without realizing it. It wasn't until her makeup artist alerted her that she even realized her skin was burning. Once she noticed, she says she was "so zonked out on pills" that she barely reacted. Speaking today, she holds up her arm and motions towards a scar that remains from the incident. She sought help for her reliance on the pills, but it would still be years before she finally attended therapy.
This stress was only compounded by the trauma of growing up in poverty and the realities of being a "contract worker." "Imagine going from literally one week having to borrow a car to get to set to the next week being on a private jet to New York City," she says. After Glee ended, so did the rides on private planes. The fury of opportunities she expected to follow her appearance on the show failed to materialize. She wasn't even 30 yet, and she was already forced to consider if she'd hit her career peak.
. . .
We’re only four minutes into our Zoom call before Riley delivers her new adage to me. “My new mantra is ‘humility does not serve me.’ Humility does not serve Black women. The world works so hard to humble us anyway,” she says.
On this Thursday afternoon in April, the LA-based entertainer is seated inside her closet/dressing room wearing a cerulean blue tank top with matching shorts and eating hot wings. This current phase of healing hinges on balance. It’s about having discipline and consistency, but not at the risk of inflexibility. She was planning to head to the gym, for instance, but she’s still tired from the “exhausting” day before. Instead, she’s spent her day receiving a massage, eating some chicken wings, and planning to spend quality time with friends. “I’m not going to beat myself up for it. I’m not going to talk down to myself. I’m going to eat my chicken wings, and then tomorrow I’m [back] in the gym,” she says.
“My new mantra is ‘humility does not serve me.’ Humility does not serve Black women. The world works so hard to humble us anyway."
This is the balance with which she's been approaching much of her life these days. It's why she's worried less about whether or not people see her as someone who is humble. She'd rather be respected. "I think you should be a person that's easy to work with, but in the moments where I have to ruffle feathers and make waves, I'm not shying away from that anymore. You can do it in love, you don't have to be nasty about it, but I had to finally be comfortable with the fact that setting boundaries around my life – in whatever aspect, whether that's personal or business – people are not going to like it. Some people are not going to have nice things to say about you, and you gotta be okay with it," she says.
When Amber talks about the constant humbling of Black women in Hollywood, I think of the entertainers before her who have suffered from this. The brilliant, consistent, overqualified Black women who have spoken of having to fight for opportunities and fair pay. Aretha Franklin. Viola Davis. Tracee Ellis Ross. There's a long list of stars whose success hasn't mirrored their experiences behind the scenes.
Credit: Ally Green
If Black women outside of Hollywood are struggling to decrease the pay gap, so, too, are their wealthier, more famous peers.
Riley says there’s been progress in recent years, but only in small ways and for a limited group of people. “This business is exhausting. The goalpost is constantly moving, and sometimes it’s unfair,” she says. But, I have to say it’s the love that keeps you going.”
“There’s no way you can continue to be in this business and not love it, especially being a plus-sized Black woman,” she continues. “We’re still niche. We’re still not main characters.”
"There’s no way you can continue to be in this business and not love it, especially being a plus-sized Black woman. We’re still niche. We’re still not main characters.”
Last year, Riley starred alongside Raven Goodwin in the Lifetime thriller Single Black Female (a modern, diversified take on 1992’s Single White Female). It was more than a leading role for the actress, it also served as proof that someone who looks like her can front a successful project without it hinging on her identity. It showcased that the characters she portrays don’t “have to be about being a big girl. It can just be a regular story.”
Riley sees her work in music as an extension of her efforts to push past the rigid stereotypes in entertainment. Take her appearance on The Masked Singer, for instance. Riley said she decided to perform Mayer’s “Gravity” after being told she couldn’t sing it years earlier. “I wanted to do ‘Gravity’ on Glee. [I] was told no, because that’s not a song that Mercedes would do,” she says. “That was a full circle moment for me, doing that on that show and to hear what it is they had to say.”
As Scherzinger praised the “anointed” performance, a masked Riley began to cry, her chest heaving as she stood on stage, her eyes shielded from view. “You have to understand, I have really big names – casting directors, producers, show creators – that constantly tell me ‘I’m such a big fan. Your talent is unmatched.’ Hire me, then,” she says, reflecting on the moment.
Recently, she’s been in the studio working on original music, the follow-up to her independently-released debut EP, 2020’s Riley. The sequel to songs such as the anthemic “Big Girl Energy” and the reflective ballad “A Moment” on Riley, this new project hones in on the singer’s R&B roots with sensual grooves such as the tentatively titled “All Night.” “You said I wasn’t shit, turns out that I’m the shit. Then you called me a bitch, turns out that I’m that bitch. You said no one would want me, well you should call your homies,” she sings on the tentatively titled “Lately,” a cut about reflecting on a past relationship. From the forthcoming project, xoNecole received five potential tracks. Fans likely already know the strengths and contours of Riley’s vocals, but these new songs are her strongest, most confident offerings as an artist.
“I am so much more comfortable as a writer, and I know who I am as an artist now. I’m evolving as a human being, in general, so I’m way more vulnerable in my music. I’m way more willing to talk about whatever is on my mind. I don’t stop myself from saying what it is I want to say,” she says.
Credit: Ally Green
“Every era and alliteration of Amber, the baseline is ‘Big Girl Energy.’ That’s the name of her company,” her manager Brooks says, referencing the imprint through which Riley releases her music after getting out of a label deal several years ago. “It’s just what she stands for. She’s not just talking about size, it’s in all things. Whether it’s putting your big girl pants on and having to face a boardroom full of executives or sell yourself in front of a casting agent. It’s her trying to achieve the things she wants to do in life.”
Riley says she has big dreams beyond releasing this new music, too. She’d love to star in a rom-com with Winston Duke. She hasn't starred in a biopic yet, but she’d revel in the opportunity to portray Rosetta Tharpe on screen. She’s determined that her previous setbacks won’t stop her from dreaming big.
“I think one of my superpowers is resilience because, at the end of the day, I’m going to kick, scream, cry, cuss, be mad and disappointed, but I’m going to get up and risk having to deal with it all again. It’s worth it for the happy moments,” she says.
If Riley seems more comfortable and confident professionally, it’s because of the work she’s been doing in her personal life.
She’d previously spoken to xoNecole about becoming engaged to a man she discovered in a post on the site, but she called things off last year. For Valentine’s Day, she revealed her new boyfriend publicly. “I decided to post him on Valentine’s Day, partially because I was in the dog house. I got in trouble with him,” she says, half-joking before turning serious. “The breakup was never going to stop me from finding love. Or at least trying. I don’t owe anybody a happily ever after. People break up. It happens. When it was good, it was good. When it was bad, it was terrible, hunny. I had to get the fuck up out of there. You find happiness, and you enjoy it and work through it.”
Credit: Ally Green
"I don’t owe anybody a happily ever after. People break up. It happens. When it was good, it was good. When it was bad, it was terrible, hunny. I had to get the fuck up out of there. You find happiness and you enjoy it and work through it.”
With her ex, Riley was pretty outspoken about her relationship, even appearing in content for Netflix with him. This time around is different. She’s not hiding her boyfriend of eight months, but she’s more protective of him, especially because he’s a father and isn’t interested in becoming a public figure.
She’s traveling more, too. It’s a deliberate effort on her part to enjoy her money and reject the trauma she’s developed after experiencing poverty in her childhood. “I live in constant fear of being broke. I don’t think you ever don’t remember that trauma or move past that. Now I travel and I’m like, listen, if it goes, it goes. I’m not saying [to] be reckless, but I deserve to enjoy my hard work.”
After everything she’s been through, she certainly deserves to finally let loose a bit. “I have to have a life to live,” she says. “I’ve got to have a life worth fighting for.”
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Janelle Monáe's Reveals The Real Reason Why She Stopped Wearing Her Signature Tuxedos
Singer and actress Janelle Monáe exemplifies how change can be a powerful catalyst for growth and transformation.
Monáe, who rose to fame in 2010 following the release of her debut album, The ArchAndroid, captivated fans' hearts with her powerful vocals, catchy tunes, and style. Around that time period, when various female artists were known to wear provocative ensembles on stage, the "Tightrope" songstress set herself apart by wearing her signature black and white suits and continued to do so for almost a decade.
In the later years of her career, after the release of her studio albums The Electric Lady in 2013 and 2018's Dirty Computer, many began to notice the shift in Monáe's artistry and fashion, which some widely praised.
Although the now 37-year-old rarely addressed the reason behind the transformation over the years, that would all change when Monáe sat down with radio personality Angie Martinez on her IRL podcast earlier this month.
During the interview, Monáe --who was promoting her latest album, "The Age of Pleasure"-- opened up about her mental health struggles, how she would cope, and why she chose to live in freedom.
Janelle On Why She Stopped Wearing Her Signature Suits All the Time
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In the May discussion, the "I Like That" vocalist revealed she suffers from anxiety, which she claimed would occur around "winter to spring."
Monáe added that when she has her bouts with anxiety, she tends to turn to food as a coping mechanism. Further in the interview, the "Lipstick Lover" singer disclosed that her emotional eating habits caused a weight fluctuation and that she could no longer fit into the suits she once wore earlier in her career.
Monáe explained that even though she tried to diet and exercise to return to her smaller figure, she ultimately stopped and made peace with herself with the help of therapy because she acknowledged that she isn't the same person she was nearly a decade ago and shouldn't try to be even if it was a highly "celebrated" version.
"I'm petite, but it can get thick... When I couldn't fit them suits anymore, and I was like, 'Oh my God, what is going on?' I would be dieting, running, or exercising, trying to fit into [it]. I'm just like, 'No. No, we're here. This is where we are.' We [are] not about to be utilizing life trying to be an old version of ourselves. No matter how celebrated that version of me was. I'm here. I'm here," she said.
Janelle On Freedom
As the topic shifted to freedom and what that meant to Monáe, the "Primetime" vocalist shared that in this new era of her life, she enjoys it because she can boldly express herself however she wants and honor who she is as a person right now.
Monáe also revealed that she had found ways to become a better artist and the best version of herself because of her freedom.
"What is the new version of freedom? What does that feel like? That's usually when I feel the most free is when artistically, I can honor exactly who I am right now," she stated. "I feel most free as a human when I can honor exactly who I am right now."
Monáe's fourth studio album, The Age of Pleasure, is set to be released on June 9.
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