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Beyoncé’s Lemonade: What it Means to me as a Black Woman

This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at UNH chapter.

From her first album Dangerously in Love, to her self-titled fifth album, every song Beyoncé created was a great one to jam out to no matter the occasion, or just to put on when I was feelin’ myself. I have always been a lover of Beyoncé, but this album really did it for me. Doing what she does best, Queen Bey dropped a bomb on us when she surprise released Lemonade on April 23rd of this year. Though, instead of just releasing her music, Beyoncé created a visual album to encompass her story of intuition, denial, anger, apathy, emptiness, accountability, reformation, forgiveness, resurrection, hope and redemption. Along with visuals and exposing lyrics, Beyoncé embodies a complex narrative that so clearly manifests the struggles of being a black woman. Surrounded by an era of artists with immense God complexes, like Kanye West, she instead shies away from the infallible and usual fame and admiration that comes when she releases music. Rather Beyoncé uses this album to highlight her flaws, her weaknesses and in the end created this product that was infused with vulnerability and this intimacy that makes her incredibly human.

While everyone keeps talking about how Jay-Z possibly cheated on her, there is a much bigger issue that is the real point of this album. Lemonade is clearly dedicated to black women. Now I’ve had my own fair share of run ins with infidelity in my past relationship that created plenty of heartbreak and anger, which only gives me more reason to connect to Lemonade, but what I really got out of it was this raw and true version of Beyoncé that I could so deeply relate to. She has always been this idolized queen of perfection in my eyes, but now she has allowed her self to be so unguarded and humbled, so that she can represent what black women have to face and live with everyday. And this is where my issue of not being happy with myself comes into play.

“The most disrespected person in America, is the black woman. The most un-protected person in America is the black woman. The most neglected person in America, is the black woman. “~Malcolm X

I’ve never been extremely happy with who I am.  I mean everyone has their insecurities and flaws and things about themselves that they question. My issue, though, is a little different because it derives from entirely who I am and I unfortunately do not stand alone. 

Where I’m from, where I grew up, and where I currently attend college, are areas that are predominantly white. Currently I am 1 of 199 black students to go to the University of New Hampshire, out of a total of 15,398 undergrad and graduated students. A resounding 8%. And at home, black people represent 1% of the 8,264 that populate my town, while white people represent 93%. Don’t get me wrong, I love my town, my friends, my college, but subconsciously it has impacted the way I think of myself.

I remember in the fifth grade, the annual Father-Daughter Dance was coming up and recently my grandmother on my dad’s side had sent us these pretty African garbs. When I asked to go shopping for a dress for the dance, I was told that I would be wearing the African dress. And I freaked. There was so much unnecessary screaming and crying from my end because every other girl got to go to Macy’s or Nordstrom for theirs, and God-forbid I had to wear something that represented my culture instead of the white culture I was so deeply submerged in. But me being ten, it felt like the end of the world and I refused to go to the dance.  Back then I didn’t make the connection that I was embarrassed because this wasn’t what people of another race wore. To me it was just different and I didn’t want to be different. Thinking back on it now though, I realize that it was because society has painted this picture of black women being the exact opposite of beautiful or desired and loved. So all my life I have tried to be more white.

Besides denying to wear one dress on one occasion, I have also tried to alter my appearance in hopes to look more white. I’ve been relaxing my hair since elementary school aged, to make it as straight as it could be. Relaxing is basically putting pure chemicals into your hair to take away its natural kinkiness and curls, and for me I had rather risked destroying my hair with harsh chemicals then wear it in its natural state. So instead of wondering who “Becky” is in “Sorry” I focused on the fact that by using a basic white girl name to clearly emphasize her Caucasian race, it was her hair, her straight white girl hair, that Jay Z preferred over Beyoncé’s bouncy curls.  That line wasn’t about the who, it was about the what. What traits does this mistress have that Beyoncé doesn’t or can’t have because of her race? It alludes to black women being viewed as undesirable, the texture of black hair hasn’t ever been a wanted thing. For me, it was relaxers and weaves, which meant I had to hear countless racist, stereotypical jokes about a black girl and her weave, that my white friends thought it was funny to make on the regular. I’ve always wanted to cover my natural qualities up, or alter them to fit my peers, because they were the race that is desired, and loved, and beautiful. 

The desperation to be white came in other forms as well, whether it was me going tanning (a black girl in a tanning bed yeah I know the irony) because that’s what my white friends did every day after school. Or the countless times I researched the process of changing my name to something much less ethnic sounding to something more basic and common, kind of like well Becky. 

Other than appearance wise I wanted to be white for the more obvious reasons like privilege or for the better stereotypes associated with being Caucasian.  Another one of my favorite things about Lemonade was the inclusion of famous black women in society who have been taken down because of their race. Starting with her own daughter, Blue Ivy was made fun of for her natural hair when she was just a baby, actress Quvenzhane Wallis was called a c*** by a farcical newspaper despite her being only 9 years old and a very talented child. Zendaya Coleman was also made fun of her dreadlocks by a white television host, or Amandla Stenberg who endured racist comments after she was casted as Rue in The Hunger Games because she is black.  Serena Williams was also included because of the constant body shaming against her, despite her talented skills and success as a tennis player. The underlying reasons all coincide and is due to the simple reason of their race.  Luckily for me I haven’t really had to endure what a lot of black women, or black people in general, go through.  But it is still something I have to learn to live with and learn to adapt to. Also included in Lemonade are the mothers of Trayvon Martin, Michael Brown, and Eric Garner, has they hold up pictures of their dead sons who have been killed unjustly because of their race. Despite living in one of the safest suburban towns where I don’t have to face a lot of racism, my mother still raises us to be aware and teaches us to protect ourselves. There have been countless conversations, especially directed at my brother when more and more of these unfair murders occur, about how my brother has to conduct himself. At the young age of 15, my brother is already at pushing 6ft tall and comes across as a big muscular black man. My mom always tells him he can’t just walk around town, even though that’s what kids his age like to do, she always tells him he can’t linger around Cumbies, our local convenience store and gas station, as he shops for some candy and a slush puppie, because the cashiers will watch him or accuse him of stealing, even though that’s where his white friends hangout after school. We don’t get to live with the same easy privilege that the people we surround ourselves with do. Our friends don’t have to think twice about how they look appearance wise because their race hasn’t been deemed unbeautiful by society. Our friends don’t have to live with the worry of how they come across doing simple every day actions because of their race. 

By releasing Lemonade, Beyoncé has developed this nourishing and protecting environment for black women to partake on a journey of self-knowledge and healing, and has told a story so that those who are ignorant to the matter, become more aware with what surrounds them in the form of a political, cultural, and social issue.  

“Who taught you to hate the texture of your hair? Who taught you to hate the color of your skin? To such extent you bleach, to get like the white man. Who taught you to hate the shape of your nose and the shape of your lips? Who taught you to hate yourself from the top of your head to the soles of your feet? Who taught you to hate your own kind? Who taught you to hate the race that you belong to so much that you don’t want to be around each other? No…before you come asking Mr. Muhammad does he teach hate, you should ask yourself who taught you to hate being what God made you.”~Malcolm X

What broke my heart the most was realizing all of this. Beyoncé said what was in every black girl’s subconscious and brought it to light. My first thought was how could Beyoncé….Beyoncé, Queen Bey who runs the world, feel this insecure about herself. But it doesn’t matter who you are, how famous, rich, successful, talented, you are, society has written a script for black women to be portrayed this way and we all act it out.  We live with the stereotypes that we are angry, loud, overweight or “thick”, sexually inhibited, that we have daddy issues, or that we have to abide by team lightskin or team darkskin, that we love our fried chicken and Kool-Aid, and ripping out each others weaves, or that “we are independent and don’t need no man.” But it is time we changed that. Time to love yourself no matter your race, your sexuality, your abilities, your gender or your age, its time to recognize the amazing and unique qualities that come with each aspect and to highlight your flaws and make them your own because they make you who you are, despite what has been previously outlined for us. 

This is the general account for the University of New Hampshire chapter of Her Campus! HCXO!