One week ago, American rapper turned presidential-hopeful Kanye West held his first presidential rally in Charleston, South Carolina. As cell phone footage from the rally went viral on social media, even fans of the artist found his remarks bizarre. In the footage, West is seen making outlandish comments about Harriet Tubman, confessing to his wife almost aborting his daughter, and berating a young black woman for asking him a question about gun control. You would think that someone on his team would step in to help diffuse the situation or, at the very least, hold him accountable, but the saga continues.
In the days following the rally, West went on a serious Twitter rant. In a series of tweets, West calls his wife a ‘white supremacist’, accuses her of trying to lock him up, compares his mother-in-law to North Korean dictator Kim Jung Un and says he’s been trying to divorce his wife for a while. All of this as the world watched this cultural icon seemingly have a complete mental break.
Now even though I just wrote all of this about Kanye, this post is not entirely about him. My frustration doesn’t come from Kanye’s apparent mental break or his outlandish behavior, but more with a comment I saw from many black people on social media.
‘Kanye needs a black woman!’
As a black woman, this is not the first time I’ve seen or heard black men and women say something like this. But in this instance, I had to ask a serious question.
When Kanye was stable, successful, and seemingly doing well, why didn’t he need a black woman? Only when it became apparent that he was dealing with trauma did people think he needed a black woman in his life. Why?
For those of you who may not understand, black women already deal with a lot. I mean A LOT. We deal with racism, sexism, and, the most painful truth of them all, we deal with abuse from the same men we are expected to protect. To make matter worse, this abuse is justified by one trope: Black women are strong.
Don’t get me wrong, I believe Black women are strong. I believe we are the most resilient humans on Earth. But even the strongest people need a break sometimes. Though the belief of black women being able to heal, uphold, and protect black men is well-intended, it is a dangerous sentiment. This ‘ride-or-die’ mentality instilled into many black women from a young age has made people believe that our sole purpose is to hold, heal, and diminish the burdens of our counterparts. From personal experiences to media and television, black women are taught to hold black men down no matter what, even when it becomes unhealthy for us.
I saw just how dangerous this mentality could be seen in relationships between black men and women in my life. The recent shooting of Meg Thee Stallion is a perfect example of this. Two weeks ago, Meg was allegedly shot in the foot by fellow recording artist and alleged boyfriend, Tory Lanez. Rumors are still circulating the circumstances surrounding the incident but Meg has not confirmed exactly what happened. The reaction to this incident on social media infuriated me. Instead of wishing her well, people on social media proceeded to make memes about the situation, began blaming her for getting shot and romanticizing the shooting.
As Kanye deals with his trauma, disrespects his family, and refused to seek help from anyone, the hashtag #PrayForYe continues to circulate social media. As Meg deals with the outcomes of domestic violence, she gets memes and criticism. This is a problem.
As Malcolm X said in 1962, “The most disrespected person in America is the black woman. The most unprotected person in America is the black woman. The most neglected person in America is the black woman.” As a black woman, I am tired of constantly playing into this ‘strong black woman’ narrative, especially in a society that refuses to protect us. Breonna Taylor’s murderers are still free. Her life has become a meme on social media. Meg Thee Stallion was shot instead of receiving prayers or well wishes, she received tasteless podcast segments and unwarranted memes making fun of the situation.
Black women deserve peace. We deserve to be loved without pain and baggage. We deserve to be spoiled. We deserve to be viewed as delicate and gentle. We deserve to be desired without condition. We deserve to be treated as humans FIRST, not therapists.