Britney Spears & the Identity Development of a Black Girl
*content warning: n-word
I am a floater.
At this point in my life, I have accepted that there is no real “place” for me. I just travel between scenes and cultures, experiencing life looking from the outside in.
I’ll wake up in the morning, make puff puff, practice Everytime on the piano, head onto YouTube to see what’s going on in the “urban” world, then check out the rock outlets, leave the house to eat some sort of westernized version of foreign food, come back home and study the society I’m fighting so hard not to resent.
That’s fine.
If we’re going to refer to the race binary for a moment, White and Black skin are on completely different ends of the spectrum. Our features are on completely different ends of the spectrum. Relaxing my 4c hair will never make it look, feel or act “White.” The “Whiteness” of other ethnic groups has been up for debate in the past (for example, in the case of Italians.)¹ This will never be the case for Black people, as a collective. Not even extreme measures like plastic surgery or skin bleaching result in successful assimilation. And once you’ve attempted assimilation, you are a Black person trying to be White, period.
What really bothers me about this last thought is the absolute lack of consideration for the pain and trauma that is behind these attempts at assimilation. This, I’ve witnessed and experienced. Also, I’ve learned that people claim to want authenticity, but this authenticity is contingent on their worldview.
Black skin carries a stigma that is deeply historic. Being a minority isn’t just about the lack of representation in the media. Blackness carries the weight of generations of global trauma. The legacy of American chattel slavery has stigmatized the entire Black population whether their lineage was actually involved or not. I didn’t know I was a nigger, until one day, in junior high school, minding my own business, some White boy in class turned around, and with the most unwarranted aggression, called me one. At the time, I didn’t realize I was being labeled based on a global narrative, but I definitely wondered what I did to make him so mad.
I had no idea that chicken, watermelon and even picking cotton were “Black things,” until I was made aware of these tropes by White people putting me down… or excuse me “joking around and teasing me.” The legacy of American chattel slavery impacts not only African Americans, but those around the world who’s Blackness is automatically associated with slavery. I mean this with all due respect for the plight of African Americans, who are most directly impacted by the legacy of slavery.
Representation is crucial though. It is common knowledge, at this point, that Hollywood just can’t let go of the slave narrative. As Chimamanda Adichie explains in her talk The Dangers of the Single Story,² when you are persistently exposed to a stereotype, you begin to dehumanize the “other” through the lens of that stereotype. Black is a pejorative label. Black is dirty, dark, night, sinister, strong, masculine and more. Will this ever completely change? I don’t believe so, but through re-socialization and activism, with the goal of redefining Blackness, it can. Within the context of skin color this reconceptualization is absolutely necessary for the humanization of Black people.
But, the White man’s ice is colder.
On an international scale, this looks like being upset by a Grammy snub, but paying the BET awards dust. I still have to watch for the manifestation of this mindset in my own life. Now that I am better able to recognize White supremacy, in other words, now that I am “woke,” I question my taste. I am westernized and that’s just what it is. But I’ve had to be honest with myself about how much of this is simply the result of being the product of my environment and how much of it is the internalization of anti-Blackness. I’m actually ultimately saying the same thing twice, because the environment I am a product of is anti-Black, but to me, there is still a distinction to be made between the two scenarios.
To me, my love for Britney Spears is explained by being a product of my environment (and yes there are entire systems behind Britney Spears, the brand, but I need to stay on track.) As a 90’s kid raised in Canada, I fell in love with pop culture through top 40 radio, Much Music, J-14 Magazine and other cultural artifacts. My contact with Britney Spears occurred as the result of her being such a huge North American and global pop culture phenomenon. I literally can’t help that I came across her music and that I enjoy it.
Now, anti-Blackness emerges insidiously when you find yourself epitomizing White pop stars as the standard of beauty… and then maybe one day you find yourself disappointed when you notice how dark your skin is compared to your friends’ in a photo. I can’t say for a fact that that is the link, but what I do know for sure is that internalized self-hate has many sources. My point is: I didn’t choose Britney Spears because she is White, however, my exposure to her can be attributed to the social construction and elevation of Whiteness. Further, the domination of Whiteness in society heavily influenced my socialization leading to Whiteness eventually becoming a choice, conscious or not. Somewhere along the way, the lines between choice and conditioning are blurred. Anyway, say what you want about the systems and industry behind her brand, the best pop music comes from Britney Spears. The dance moves. The sex appeal. And yes, I’ll still credit her for her beauty because I’m not a hater. I’ll be honest about my observations, but I will never be too woke to admit that I love Britney Spears.
My internalization of anti-Blackness can be found in the ways I consciously and purposefully rejected and devalued Black or non-White art to play my role as “one of the good ones.” It’s the fact that in my teens, I never would have considered covering a Sona Jobarteh song because it isn’t a western song, therefore rendering it invalid as an artform. (To be clear, western doesn’t necessarily mean White, but Whiteness is the western standard.)
At the end of the day, I am who I am now. My taste is what it is. While my consciousness has expanded, it would be disingenuous of me to abandon all things White or western in the name of “honoring my roots.” It’s also cringey to watch activists get on a woke tour and wear said “woke-ness” as a costume, sometimes literally (ie. dashikis). I don’t need to co-opt any dress, speech or ways of being that are labeled Black or African (other than my actual ethnic background) just to prove my Blackness. I’m not going to perform a culture that isn’t mine, referring to the African American-nes imposed onto Black people in this locale. I am a Canadian immigrant of Cameroonian descent. This is a cultural and civic fact. I strive to practice cultural relativism up until the point of human rights violations. Being as open, as honest, as critical, as self-reflective as I can be is my life’s work.
References
https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2019/10/12/opinion/columbus-day-italian-american-racism.html 1
