Beyoncé’s Formation: Learn from This
Disclaimer: First things first, as a white British woman I’m pretty sure this song is not for me. You’d be justified in questioning my authority to discuss it at all. I have nothing to teach PoCs about this song, I have nothing to add to their dialogue. However, if you’re white and wondering what this song means, then by all means carry on. Also, anyone who says “not all white people” in response to any of this can prepare to get smacked.
Beyoncé is the Queen of a lot of things, but she has particular dominion over the stealth track-drop. Having previously given us an album’s worth of music videos out of the blue, she just released her new single Formation on YouTube (despite usually only using Tidal to share and promote her music).
Lyrically, compositionally and visually there is a lot going on in Formation. Blending together choreographed dance pieces in pertinent locations, pointed costume choices, imagery strongly linked to Black Lives Matter demos and events and cars and structures being engulfed in water, it is clear from moment one that this isn’t just a clapback against Beyoncé’s detractors. While the opening verse disparagingly calls out conspiracy theorists and tabloid gossip in more general terms (i.e. those who suggest she’s in the Illuminati, question the strength of her marriage and her fashion choices) the rest of the song has a more specific message.
By talking about her heritage, ethnicity and upbringing in reference to her family’s features, as well as her own, Beyoncé takes undeniable ownership of her racial identity. In a world where brands have come under fire for lightening models’ skin to conform to racist beauty standards (Beyoncé herself has been victim to this more than once), and aesthetic norms that create an even greater “us and them” divide with regards to what classes as “beauty”, this declaration is very important. It draws attention to black beauty, as a thing unto itself, in a society that creates entire industries based on what it excludes. While black lips, bodies, music and dance are being adopted into mainstream culture, often without credit or sensitivity, Beyoncé is telling us that we can’t continue to pick and choose what we want to see and accept, and she isn’t prepared to only be celebrated for the parts of her that white people are able to fetishize and emulate.
As well as championing the “less-desirable” physical aspects of blackness, Beyoncé reiterates that her heritage and attitudes are still a huge part of her identity, perhaps in spite of her huge acceptance and success with a white audience. With lines like “they never take the country out me, I got hot sauce in my bag, swag” she’s not just reminding black people that she’s in touch with her upbringing, she’s telling white people (intentionally or otherwise) that she’s not conforming to our expectations, and that her success if not in spite of her race, but because of it.
As well as talking about black physical and cultural identity, the video’s imagery, and small segments of lyric, refer very strongly to racial profiling and police brutality against PoCs. As well as footage showing a very young black child dancing in a hoodie in front of armed riot police, lines like “You might just be a black Bill Gates in the making” were particularly affecting for me. With events like Ferguson so distant and external to me and my experience, I’ve only really let it scratch the surface emotionally. I’ve been angered, outraged and saddened by it but it’s not my country. Not my people. It’s not really hit home for me because it’s so outside of me; halfway across the world, happening to strangers. But seeing a young black girl in front of armed forces actually gave me a sense of panic. Despite the fact it was obviously a set piece as part of a music video, I felt a huge protective instinct and sense of fear. I know this must be the merest, microscopic fraction of how it must feel to be living under these conditions if you don’t present as white.
Formation is not just a song about black unity, though of course that’s a colossal part of its sentiment and will ensure its enduring appeal. This song is hugely important for black people, especially those from New Orleans and those facing institutional racism from forces set up for universal raceblind protection. This song is for them, not for me.
However, I don’t see why it shouldn’t be a learning tool for me, and people like me, and the lesson is this: don’t just steal what you like from cultures and then present it as your own, while rejecting and ridiculing other aspects of that culture. Don’t celebrate black (and other) cultures for the aspects you find entertaining or attractive, while backhandedly putting the rest of it down. Don’t assume you know better what other races’ wants, needs and experiences are. Recognise and understand that not everything exists for your validation and benefit, sometimes things are not for you. If you want a Beyoncé song you can relate to, listen to Single Ladies or Halo. And for Christ’s sake, if you’re white, don’t do a cover version of this song. In fact, don’t cover any song by a black person that is about race. You’ll look like an insensitive, culturally-appropriative moron. Don’t be that person.
Basically, show respect and empathy.
And finally, there are hundreds of black people, particularly women, whose opinion on this (and black culture and experience in general) are far more authoritative, intelligent and important than mine. This is just my two cents.
