In the last couple of years, there’s been a plethora of Black queer art within mainstream pop culture, including the recognition of ballroom culture from Beyoncé’s renaissance era and the popularization of slang originating from the Black trans and queer community.
Earlier this summer, the sapphic dating show I Kissed a Girl premiered. Essentially a queer younger sibling to Love Island, the show explores lesbian love under the Italian sun.
On paper, IKAG appears to be the perfect answer to a largely white and heteronormative broadcasting schedule.
However, people often marginalize or pigeonhole Black and brown queer voices while simultaneously consuming Black queer culture for their own pleasure.
We may see “diversity” on our screens, but what stories do we hear in actuality? What false perceptions are being perpetuated?
Thea’s thoughts
Thea Hallow, a singer-songwriter from London, appeared on I Kissed a Girl, repping for the Black and queer UK girlies. The doll walked in: a vision in pink and an undeclinable face card. “I Kissed a Girl was definitely a monumental moment for queer representation,” she said. “It served as a beacon of hope for younger queer or lesbian girls, because we’ve never seen anything like this in the history of British TV.”
Thea added, “I think I needed that type of representation when I was younger, I’m happy that I was a part of it and I’m sure that lots of young people felt seen.”
However, Thea’s IKAG storyline had a romance deficiency.
She stated: “My scenes were cut, there was only one narrative that was shown. I didn’t think that was fair. It adds to the undesirable Black girl narrative that we’re unfortunately used to seeing.”
Even if there weren’t always connections formed, Thea argued, showing her storylines would have given her layers and influenced the depiction of Black people on television.
She went on to say that there was no one in the masseria that she truly could’ve connected with romantically, concluding: “In the future production should consider more about the compatibility and finding everyone a match.”
Strict TV programming times and lower budgets could have led to the reduction of Thea’s storyline. Although unintentional, Thea’s IKAG edit furthers a pre-existing narrative in media and entertainment that Black girls are ‘undesirable’.
The undesirable Black girl
The “Undesirable Black Girl” trope is an insidious stereotype deeply entrenched in systemic racism and sustained by various societal and media mechanisms. This stereotype maligns Black women, portraying them as inherently unworthy of affection or attention and relegating them to peripheral roles in both societal and media narratives.
This trope manifests in the de-sexualization or hyper-sexualization of Black women, painfully mirroring the Jim Crow era stereotypes of the Mammy and Jezebel.
Reality programming may not be portraying a certain narrative about the individuals themselves, but these dating shows seem to feature a lack of romantic interest or success for the black women that participate.
This is not just a problem among straight people. Society places various stereotypes on Black queer individuals, including the ‘undesirable Black girl’ trope.
Fetishization and the BBC.
As much as Black women are recognized solely for their sexuality, Black men are also extremely fetishized by their white queer peers.
In fact, before 2020, Grindr had an ‘ethnicity filter’ which meant users could choose what races to meet. Inevitably this led to fetishization and discrimination of many minority groups within the gay dating scene.
The term ‘BBC’ can be found on many dating apps and pornography sites. An acronym for a black male’s manhood, it is incredibly dehumanizing and yet often used.
Black bodies have been fetishized since the time of slavery, often seen primarily as physical beings meant to serve. This view evolved from slave labour to sex.
Many Black men have described feeling like a ‘piece of meat’ — a sexual fantasy expected to be aggressive in bed. Others have mentioned feeling pressure to be loud and ‘sassy’, stereotypes that have historically been assigned to Black femininity.
Take the culture, leave the people
“You ate”, “serving c*nt”, “pur”, all these phrases have made their way into Gen Z lingo; and yet most people don’t know that they originate from Black and brown queer venacular for decades.
Moreover, voguing, Madonna’s Vogue, Beyonce’s Renaissance, and other cultural fixtures wouldn’t exist if it weren’t for the trans dolls of the ballroom scene.
Trans women shaped pop culture as we know it, but the media consistently portrays them as villains or victims. When black trans women are murdered, their cases go unnoticed and/or unsolved. Additionally, we barely hear the stories of black trans and queer heroes.
Marsha P. Johnson was a Black trans women who helped homeless youth and fought for gay liberation in the 60s and 70s. Marsha‘s death in 1992 was ruled a suicide, but those close to her suspected foul play.
Storme Delarverie, a Black lesbian and a staunch protector of fellow lesbians, was rumoured to have thrown the first punch at Stonewall. She was also a pioneer of male impersonation, which later evolved into the art of Drag King performance.
Despite the fact that all this culture, humour and freedom is frequently consumed by white people, almost 61% of Black queer people experience racial discrimination or the feeling of being left out of a community.
Middle and upper-class white members typically dominate narratives and positions of power, leading to disproportionate representation.
It’s Not All Rainbows and Unicorns
Intra-community discrimination is real.
Oppressed people can discriminate against other oppressed people. White queer people can discriminate within dating and social circles just as much as their straight counterparts.
The stories told about Black gay and trans people need to change so that we can deconstruct the falsehoods of Black queer identity and foster recognition and respect.
