Too dark skinned to win Strictly: Alexandra Burke, race hate and why love still matters
As it is currently Black History Month, it seems a good opportunity to revisit this brilliant post from Shirley Tate from 2018.
In 2017, I was approached by a fashion
editor on a UK broadsheet for comments on why Alexandra Burke was consistently
voted against by the great British public watching Strictly Come Dancing. I did
not watch Strictly at the time and told her that I could not help her. Being
persistent, the journalist shared with me a Guardian newspaper report on
research that showed that Alexandra was voted against every week even though
the judges gave her great points and comments on her skills as a dancer.
Responding to the journalist again in the light of this research, I said that
Alexandra was too dark-skinned to win Strictly because ballroom dancing is
still seen as a white dance form by the public. This meant that only bodies
racialized as white or that were ‘mixed-race’, light skinned and normatively
feminine (which accounts for Alesha Dixon’s triumph) could ever win Strictly.
This was reported in the broadsheet as Alexandra Burke is "too black to win
Strictly" though the rest of the interview was correct and was completed with a
picture of me and my designation. The article was 'reprinted' in the Daily Star
newspaper.
I received hate emails from readers
and watchers of Strictly. I also received a phone call which was considered so
serious that the university’s police contact was consulted. They said that I
could press charges if I wanted to. I decided against that. The phone call and
emails basically, told me to go back to what I knew something about, to go back
to where I came from, to stop finding racism where there was none, and accused
me of being racist against the great British public reproduced as only being
white.
1/
race still matters for whose body is out of place or a welcome addition to the
space of beauty and femininity;
2/
dark African descent skin continues to be located at a distance from beauty and
femininity.
Both of the above remind us that
beauty and femininity are normatively racialized as white. However, this
normativity masquerades as being devoid of racialization. It continues this
masking until its racialization is mentioned, which becomes an unwanted and
worrying element of putatively ‘post-race’ public life. For the person (me) who
interrupts white normativity by calling attention to it only lays vilification
and being called a ‘Black anti-white racist’.
What email race hate writers, and the
person who made the race hate phone call, seem to forget are the foundations of
white supremacist anti-Black African descent racism. They have to think about the
racist legacies of colonialism, enslavement and indentureship’s white supremacy
that they continue, and contemporary racial structuration in the UK which they
maintain. They have to think about these because the racism shown at my
comments and the racism shown to Alexandra Burke illustrate white supremacy and
that needs to be understood to even begin to get a glimpse of what anti-Black
African descent racism means. Once their own history and present of white
supremacy is understood then it will be clear that to charge me of racism makes
no sense.
Before they engaged in race hate, they
should have stopped to think about what could possibly explain why Alexandra
Burke was consistently voted against by the great British public even in the
face of good marks and comments from the judges. Just stopping for a moment
might have given them the opportunity to think about the visceral way in which
anti-Black African descent racism against darker skinned women works. It would
have also given them pause to think about their own anti-dark skinned ‘misogynoir’
(Bailey and Trudy, 2018), which rules their psyches to the extent that their
negation of Alexandra Burke is not even noticed or recognized as a racist
negation.
Dark skin on African descent bodies
continues to be placed by white supremacy at a distance from feminine beauty,
as ugly, even given Alek Wek, Grace Jones, Naomi Campbell, Lupita Nyong’o and
Nyakim Gatwech. Placing African descent darker skinned women outside of feminine
beauty drags the coloniality of aesthetics into our 21st century beauty
spaces. More than this, it also reminds us that aesthetics is linked very
clearly to colonial and contemporary white supremacist ideas on who is/can be
human (Wynter, 2003). Being human still relates to bodies racialized as white
wherein beauty also lies. White skin is enough for undisputed beauty, and darker skinned Black women who are acknowledged to be beautiful like Beyoncé and Hallé Berry
are light-skinned/’mixed-race’ exceptions to the white supremacist white beauty
only rule.
We might be in the 21st
century but some things never change. Racist beauty regimes as they relate to
the body and skin of the African descent woman’s body is one of them. This
shows us that beauty is not neutral, it matters racially, it matters to white
supremacy, it matters in ruling the internal racial colony of others
perpetually doomed to white supremacy’s constructed ugliness. Of course, white
supremacist aesthetics has always been and continues to be resisted, subverted
and changed, for example through Jamaica’s Rastafarianism and the Black Power Movement.
Both of these African-centred liberation movements made ‘black is beautiful’ a
central plank of their politics. That need to assert ‘black is beautiful’ has
not waned, as we see from Nyakim Gatwech’s love for her dark skin:
South Sudanese model
Nyakim Gatwech, called ‘Queen of the Dark’, has taken the world by storm simply
because she celebrates and loves her darker skin (http://www.storypick.com/queen-of-dark/ accessed 19/11/2018).
"Nyakim went
viral after posting a story of her interaction with an Uber driver on
Instagram. When the Uber driver asked if she would bleach her skin for $10,000,
Nyakim laughed it off. “I would never do that. I consider my skin to be a
blessing”, she told him" (http://www.teenvogue.com/story/model-nyakim-gatwech-challenges-beauty-standards-instagram
accessed 19/11/2018).
It is so very interesting how love of
oneself, of one’s dark skin has again become important in the 21st
century at a time when the only Black women’s bodies which seem to have
acquired cross-over value are light-skinned/‘mixed race’ ones, for example,
Alesha Dixon, Jessica Ennis-Hill, Thandi Newton and Meghan Markle. What does
this love of dark skin do politically? In its proclamation, love of dark skin decolonizes
the white/light skin normativity that still rules our beauty lives because it
disalienates (Césaire, 2000) from it. Disalienating from white rule already
enables Black anti-racist aesthetics transformation in thinking beauty and
embodiment. Love is still an indispensable part of Black anti-racist aesthetics
skin politics.
Shirley Anne Tate is a Professor of Race and Education, at Carnegie School of Education, Leeds Beckett University. She is particularly interested in exploring the intersections of 'raced' and gendered bodies, 'race' performativity, ‘mixed race’ and decoloniality within the Black Atlantic diasporic context.
Shirley Anne Tate is a Professor of Race and Education, at Carnegie School of Education, Leeds Beckett University. She is particularly interested in exploring the intersections of 'raced' and gendered bodies, 'race' performativity, ‘mixed race’ and decoloniality within the Black Atlantic diasporic context.
References
Bailey, M. and
Trudy (2018) ‘On Misogynoir: Citation, erasure and plagiarism’, Feminist Media Studies, Volume 18, Issue
24: 762-768
Césaire, A.
(2000) Discourse on Colonialism.
Trans. J. Pinkham. New York: Monthly Review Press
Wynter,
S. (2003) ‘Unsettling the coloniality of being/power/truth/freedom: Towards the
human, after man, its overrepresentation-an argument’, CR: The New Centennial
Review, 3:3: 257-337
Comments
Post a Comment