— Angela Davis (via lastuli)
In fact, my personal Who’s Who of Rock and Roll is stacked with bomb Black women. Betty Davis. Grace Jones. Tina Turner. Aretha Franklin. Nona Hendryx. Poly Styrene. Joan Armatrading. Joyce Kennedy… and that’s just 1976-77.
So why do so many people go out of their way to marginalize or flat-out disregard Black women as both pioneers and torchbearers of rock? Why are we so indifferent to the fact that more than a few African-American women strapped an instrument to their back and helped carry the genre from the fields to the church to the juke joint to the charts to a multimillion-dollar industry?
Probably because someone told us it wasn’t ours and we chose to believe it. They said it was devil’s music, so we cast it out. We let it go because someone gave it white skin, a penis, and the green light to cross boundaries that Black people couldn’t. And in so doing, they convinced the world that our pioneers didn’t deserve equal recognition, equal exposure or equal ownership.
— Black Women In Rock: If Sister Rosetta Tharpe is too old school for you, then maybe Santigold flips your wig. Either way, sisters have been part of rock music for as long as guitar feedback’s been loud (via blackrockandrollmusic)
— Thích Nhất Hạnh (via purplebuddhaproject)
Suey Park and Dr. David J. Leonard, In Defense of Twitter Feminism
In a world where the voices of white middle-class heterosexual men and women are privileged, it is striking that Twitter, one of the few spaces that allows for counternarratives and resistance, is now facing a barrage of criticism…women of color are already excluded from major publishing platforms, but are reprimanded for using available platforms such as Twitter and tumblr to write their own stories.
The reaction white feminists are having to women of color feminists entering Twitter tends to problematize those who point out racism rather than question the integrity of the framework
In short, white feminists going to a place where woman of color feminist are having a discussion (without invitation) and telling her how to do feminism (gentrification), as their approach is seen as problematic and toxic.(via fuckyeahethnicwomen)
I can’t recall another period with such a wide-ranging mainstream presence as this Carefree Black Girl archetype. You may recognize it as Willow Smith rocking a pink Mohawk, Corinne Bailey Rae sauntering around Paris, Janelle Monáe serving android realness, and 100% of Solange Knowles’ life on Instagram.
I don’t know if any of these ladies would identify as such, but their influence is deeply felt and appreciated in CFBG spaces. They exhibit the qualities we all cherish to a wider audience that isn’t regularly exposed to the multitudes of black female creativity.
While the visual presence of Carefree Black Girls is exciting, some might wonder what would prompt such a hyper-specific expression. By putting the word “carefree” front and center, it’s making a statement that we don’t want to be solely defined by hardships and stereotypes so we can enjoy our lives as we please. Carefree should not be mistaken with careless. This particular audience is equally exposed to content exploring identity, culture, and history and its implications on them. There’s a clear reverence for the difficulties they might face but an equal focus on embracing the qualities that make them unique and beautiful. The idea also embodies not letting an outside gaze rule the way you express yourself.
Overall, I think Carefree Black Girl is a lovely and much-needed step in the right direction when it comes to exploring black identities. There may be concern that it lends itself to a passing trend or restrictive roles, but fear not. The absolute worst case scenario is that girls might start wearing floral headbands and feeling great about themselves. And, that sounds like a pretty magical prospect, if you ask me."
Who Exactly Is “The Carefree Black Girl”?
By Jamala Johns