By Jaimee Swift

As seen in historical manifestations, the proverbial white feminine hierarchical complex on the ideals of Black women and Black beauty has reared its ugly head once again. And of course, the target of such criticism is none other than one of the most powerful Black women in the world: Beyoncé.

by Jenn M. Jackson

“You do realize that I am capable of complex human emotion, right?”

I have said this more times than I should ever have to. I have said it to men of all races and ethnicities. I have said it to White women. I have said it to multi-racial coworkers. Usually, it is in reaction to the idea that, as a Black woman, I need to focus my attention and energy on what is “really” important. And, that other people somehow determine exactly what “important” should mean to me.

by Kesiena Boom

White women’s mediocrity and propensity for wanting credit where none is due are the background noise of basic-ass feminism. This low level buzzing of bullshit is annoying as hell, but I’ve mainly gotten used to it and can usually go about my business without paying it much mind. Sometimes, however, the buzz becomes so high pitched and ridiculous that I feel compelled to comment.

by Jenn M. Jackson

Few things personify white privilege more than the erasure of Black women’s bodies from the public sphere. Evidence of this fact can be found in the reactions to Serena Williams’ recent Wimbledon title and the faux outrage at Amandla Stenberg’s commentary on Kylie Jenner’s culturally appropriated cornrows. In the face of these obstacles, an important question we must ask ourselves is: Where does the Black woman’s body belong?

Serena Williams – arguably the best tennis player of all time – has been insulted, diminished, erased, and disrespected since she started playing the sport professionally nearly two decades ago. A recent New York Times article describing her body as “muscular” and questioning her womanhood is just a glimpse into the insults she has had to endure over the years. From racism and sexism to transmisogyny and flat out hatred, she has had to experience a myriad of criticisms just for existing in professional tennis while Black and female. The road to loving herself wasn’t easy. But, Williams learned to do it despite the hate she continually faced from white critics, coaches, commentators, and fans.

For Williams, her body belongs precisely where she has been all along: on the tennis court. While efforts to erase and exclude her from that predominantly white space prevail, she has been crystal clear that she both deserves and has earned the privilege to be there no matter how threatening it is to systems of white superiority.

Similarly, 16-year-old Hunger Games actress Amandla Stenberg was recently called a “jackhole” by TV host Andy Cohen after she criticized 17-year-old Kylie Jenner (younger half-sister of Kim Kardashian) for posting an image of herself on Instagram wearing cornrows. Cohen later apologized. Stenberg’s words, while offensive to many whites who believe this issue is only about “hairstyles,” were incredibly accurate and timely.






Stenberg later clarified her comments in an Instagram post. In particular, she noted that “While white women are praised for altering their bodies, plumping their lips, and tanning their skin, black women are shamed although the same features exist on them naturally.”

bigger than you or me. discussions are healthy. ignorance is not. words by me

A photo posted by amandla (@amandlastenberg) on Jul 12, 2015 at 9:02pm PDT

Stenberg, though young, is not wrong in her claims. For the mainstream media to pretend as though her concerns were being expressed this way for the first time is misleading and reductive. Stenberg has been consistent in her critique of appropriation of “Black culture” and the exclusion of Black women from Eurocentric beauty standards. If anything, Stenberg has summarized precisely the exclusionary actions of white supremacy that Serena Williams herself experiences daily – a phenomenon Dr. Moya Bailey calls “misogynoir.”

No, this isn’t a new issue. I recently covered this subject at length in reference to the Rachel Dolezal media debacle. The mainstream media’s obsession with Dolezal was fueled by both a hatred for Black women and an insatiable desire to present white women as inherently pure and idyllic.

Even more importantly, I have thoroughly explained how white women have long invested in the demonization of Black women and families. By making themselves the point of reference for womanhood, they have contributed to a framework which excludes Black women’s bodies, marking them as “other.” This double standard is so pervasive that it has been internalized and projected onto little Black girls. Therefore, these two recent events involving Williams and Stenberg should not surprise anyone who has been paying at least a little bit of attention.

As it stands, modern beauty standards rely on almost unattainable ideals but still rest upon the exploitation and appropriation of Black women’s bodies. But why?

The answer is simple: Just as whiteness is defined by the existence of blackness, white women’s beauty can’t exist without Black women’s (purported) lack thereof. This isn’t to say that Black women’s beauty is reliant on the White Gaze. Rather, I am noting that many white people, at least partially, define themselves by their deviation from Black people.

This cruel fact isn’t true just when considering beauty standards. In Williams’ case, it also articulates itself in professional athleticism. For Beyoncé and Rihanna, it manifests itself in the music industry. And, for Viola Davis, Shonda Rhimes, and Ava DuVernay, it emerges in the television and movie fields. In all cases, from the vantage point of white supremacy, Black women’s bodies are to be emulated rather than empowered, appropriated rather than appreciated, and excluded rather than extolled.

Thus, in a system predicated on the “otherness” of blackness, Black women’s bodies are meant to exist on the margins. But, in this era of #BlackLivesMatter, many Black women have been challenging this status quo of oppression. Rather than accepting marginalization and exploitation, these women have carved out spaces for themselves that were once designated for whiteness alone.

Frankly, Black women’s bodies belong wherever we choose to exist. It is a function of White supremacy to try and convince us otherwise. However, as we continue to make space and dismantle those existing narratives and structures which seek to erase us, we must be prepared to contend with the blowback we are certain to experience.

In this way, the critiques of Williams and Stenberg can be best understood not as barriers to our full existence, but as stepping stones that allow us to come closer to realizing what being “free” truly feels like.

Photo: New York Daily News

Jenn M. Jackson is a regular contributor at For Harriet. She is also the Editor-in-Chief and co-founder of Water Cooler Convos, a politics, news, and culture webmag for bourgie Black nerds. For more about her, tweet her at @JennMJack or visit her website at jennmjackson.com.

by Evan Seymour

Last weekend, Kylie Jenner posted a picture on Instagram of herself wearing cornrows, a move which sparked all sorts of angry comments and insults from some of her followers. The most high-profile of Jenner’s critics was Hunger Games star Amandla Stenberg. This is not the first time the actress has been vocal on social media about the appropriation of black culture, but it was the first time she was specific with her calling-out of the practice, honing in on a single individual. Stenberg's comment read: "when u appropriate black features and culture but fail to use ur position of power to help black Americans by directing attention towards ur wigs instead of police brutality or racism #whitegirlsdoitbetter."

by Kwanzaa Imani

Last week, Abigail Fisher’s case against The University of Texas at Austin gained media attention when she announced that she would once again be taking it before the Supreme Court. In 2008, Fisher filed a discrimination suit against the school, making the claim that they had denied her admission while accepting less qualified students of color because affirmative action laws gave them an unfair advantage due to their race.

by Jenn M. Jackson

White women simply aren’t checking for Black women, children or the Black Family, a sad but true historical fact we have to face as Black people in the United States today.

by Brianna Cox


Patricia Arquette roused many feelings after she spoke about women’s equality at the Academy Awards last Sunday. But her call for wage equality was also an age-old call sounded by many a white feminist throughout history.

In her acceptance speech, Arquette thanked her loved ones and the cast and crew of Boyhood, before saying:

To every woman who gave birth, to every taxpayer and citizen of this nation, we have fought for everybody else’s equal rights! It’s our time to have wage equality once and for all and equal rights for women in the United States of America!

This seems innocuous, perhaps, to the untrained ear, or to someone who likes to throw out the problematic baby in the proverbial bathwater. She continued afterwards, telling the press:

It’s time for women. Equal means equal. The truth is the older women get, the less money they make. The highest percentage of children living in poverty are in female-headed households. It’s inexcusable that we go around the world and we talk about equal rights for women in other countries and we don’t. One of those superior court justices said two years ago in a law speech at a university that we don’t have equal rights for women in America, and we don’t because when they wrote Constitution, they didn’t intend it for women. So the truth is even though we sort of feel like we have equal rights in America, right under the surface there are huge issues at play that really do affect women. It’s time for all the women in America, and all the men that love women and all the gay people and all the people of color that we’ve all fought for — to fight for us now!

Arquette started out strong – she really did. Nothing in the first section and leading up to this is untrue. However, the Constitution was not written for black people (who were slaves at the time) or LGBTQ people (whose sexuality were often criminalized) either. So, yes, there are absolutely inequalities that affect women because of the white heteropatriarchy that founded our society, but those issues also affect people of color and queer people, just as much—if not more.

“It’s time for all the women in America, and all the men that love women and all the gay people and all the people of color that we’ve all fought for — to fight for us now!”

This is a doozy. It is absolutely time that both men and women alike understand the necessity for gender equality, including the need for equal pay. However, this recognition of sexism should not and cannot come at the expense of the issues of queer, gay, and transgender folks, or black women and other women of color (who may also identify as LGBT).

Luckily, there have been many women—particularly Black women—who have been very public about expressing why Arquette's speech missed the mark on being a true feminist call to action: its lack of intersectionality and inclusivity. On Thursday night's episode of The Nightly Show, Larry Wilmore gathered a panel of Black women to discuss the problematic nature of Arquette's sentiments: writer and content producer Issa Rae, professor and author Christine Greer, comedian Marina Franklin, and New York Live co-host Jacque Reid.



As Patricia Arquette's speech centered on closing the pay gap, the four panelists discussed their experiences as Black women in work place (who traditionally make even less than white women, something Arquette doesn't seem to acknowledge).

This is why an understanding of history, coded language, and intersectionality of identities are all imperative when having honest discussions about gender equality.

History

Greer brings up how the inequality of black women in the workplace has historical roots by bringing up FDR's New Deal: "[FDR] had to make some concessions with white Southerners, and so he excluded black domestics. If you exclude black domestics… then we know over time, there's a lack of wealth that's been able to be built. Decade after decade, black people—black women in particular—were paid less."

White feminists also have a hard time accepting how their own heroes for women's equality in the U.S. left out and promoted the oppression of women of color. Suffragettes Susan B. Anthony and Elizabeth Cady Stanton fought for the voting rights of white cisgender straight women… and not for very much else. As Angela Davis notes in her book Women, Race, and Class, Anthony and Stanton fought for the rights of white cisgender straight women like themselves, at the expense of black men getting the vote (whom in their speeches they denigrate by calling them "niggers" and "sambos," and question their intelligence), and at the complete omission of black women.

Additionally, from Angela Davis to the Wages for Housework Movement in the 1970s to the present-day, both black women/women of color and queer women have always sought equality for all women in their movements (be that wage equality, reproductive rights, or whatever else). Arquette’s assumption and implication that women of color and queer women have only been focusing on issues that affect one particular aspect of their identity is 100% false, and quite misguided.

Coded Language

Christine Greer brings up the way code words and language are used to discriminate against women of color in the work place, in a way where white people don't have to take responsibility for the problematic nature of what they're saying. Coded language means implying something with your words while not actually saying it.

"We know with Patricia Arquette, when she says 'women,' she actually means white women," Greer explained about the troubling nature of the actress's speech.

Arquette may not have realized how her words came across, but her sentiments basically boiled down to: Because straight white women have helped fight for the rights of gay people and black people (even though, historically, they have not always done so), those other oppressed groups should put down their ongoing battles in order to help white women (who, again, have not always helped them). In addition, this is asking black women to choose their gender over their race, or asking gay people to choose their gender over their sexual orientation, which is nearly impossible to do.

When speaking on the unique issues that African-American women might face in the workplace, Reid expressed, "I had a manager tell me one time that she was afraid of me. And anybody who knows me, knows I'm not [coming] in with a gun or gang signs or anything like that. I'm just, you know, a typical black girl. And she told me she was afraid of me because I'm a strong woman, I'm opinionated, and I say what I feel needs to be said."

This point is particularly important, as Patricia Arquette failed to recognize the way that white women can sometimes make it uncomfortable or unwelcoming for women of color in the workplace, which also affects our ability to advance professionally and close the pay gap.

Intersectionality

Intersectionality, or how differing identities intersect, is important as well. Often, white feminists speak about their own experiences, not understanding how their race or class affords them privilege not experienced by other women.

Jacque Reid brings up the focus on "leaning in," Sheryl Sandberg's philosophy of how women can push back against the glass ceiling. "Black women, we've been leaning in forever. The problem is no one is letting us advance… we get pushed back."

Black women and other women of color, due to their racial identities, have less societal privilege than white women. Queer and gay people have differing privilege as well. While some of them may be white, and are therefore afforded racial privilege, the heteronormitivity of our culture—or the fact that being heterosexual is seen as the status quo—makes them oppressed in that regard. Essentially, women of color, queer women, and queer women of color face multiple discriminations. Thus, when people speak about the need to understand of intersectionality when talking about "fighting for equal rights", these layered discriminations are often ignored, as Patricia Arquette did in her speech. What this does is imply that the struggles of people of color and queer people do not exist, and that (straight) white women are the gate keepers and experts of what all other women need.
These reasons are the issues many queer women and women of color took with Patricia Arquette’s speech: not because we thought she was mean-spirited, not because we like to be argumentative. But because letting non-inclusive white feminism slide leads to more perpetuation of oppressive systems—and if one is in the fight for equality, they should fight for the equality for everyone.

by Altheria Gaston

by Inda Lauryn


When Kesenia Boom wrote “Sh*t White Feminists Say to Black Feminists (And How to Counter Them),” she recognized the ways in which white feminists dismiss the valid concerns and issues unique to Black women. When Jessica Williams announced she would not seek the hosting position on The Daily Show, much to the disappointment of her fans, white feminism took it upon itself to diagnose Williams as having impostor syndrome. In a post for The Billfold, Ester Bloom writes:

“And when he get on, he’ll leave you’re a** for a white girl.” —Kanye West, “Golddigger”

Mr. Kanye West has never spoken truer words, as he became the latest celebrity to add his two cents after ex-girlfriend Amber Rose made comments about 25-year-old rapper Tyga and his rumored relationship with minor Kylie Jenner, which caused a Twitter beef between Rose and Jenner’s older half-sister, Khloe Kardashian. West’s recent interview with The Breakfast Club shed some insight on how the rapper chose to place the whiteness of the Kardashians on a pedestal in comparison to black women like Amber Rose.

In January, I received an invitation to a GALentine’s party from a Facebook friend from high school. When I first got the Evite, I was admittedly a little shocked. While we keep up via social media, I hadn’t actually spoken to the host since she was pregnant the year before. How had I made it onto the list? Was it an oversight on her part due to using the list from the previous year? I was both confused and intrigued. I checked my calendar, replied “yes,” and waited to see if there would be an “Oh, dear, my bad…” sort of response.

by Sierra Boone

For as long as I can remember, I’ve been getting braids and twists and everything in between done to my hair. In my toddler years my head was a home for those infamous ponytails with balls that slapped me in the head. My pre-teen years were consumed with half-up half-down braided styles and my parents finally allowed me to wear long, jet black box braids and Senegalese twists in high school. Simply put, protective styles have defined my childhood and maturing hair experiences.

by Hilary Ward


White women get away with a lot of sh*t. Look at Mama June, the matriarch of reality TV show “Here Comes Honey Boo Boo,” has made headlines for reportedly carrying on a questionable relationship with a man who was convicted of molesting her eldest daughter over ten years ago. While their television series has been canceled, her youngest child, Alana (Honey Boo Boo), still remains in the home. Meanwhile black women like Shanesha Taylor—the homeless mother who left her children in her car while on a job interview—was arrested, charged with child abuse and had her children taken from her. Although Taylor received public support after her story went viral, she’s also faced plenty of public scrutiny.

by Diana Veiga for Clutch Magazine
Earlier this week I wrote about Snoop Dogg and his “beef” with white female rapper Iggy Azalea. To quote Drake, things went from zero to a hundred real quick to the point where Snoop was making a video where he called Azalea a b*tch and a c*nt. I predicted that he would have to apologize because basically nobody, well let me rephrase a Black man especially, cannot taunt a white woman and get away with it.

I was right.

by Stephanie Gates

Booty, booty, booty, booty, booty everywhere—and I’m over it. I am sick of big booty White girls. And no, I am not a hater. I have a bodacious backside of my own. But what gives this big booty girl a wedgie the size of an extra-small thong is the fascination with the protruding posteriors of White girls as if it’s the best thing since peanut butter found jelly. Big booties ain’t new! Big booty Black girls have been holding it down since the beginning of time.