All I Want For Christmas Is For Sports Misogynoir to Have A Seat

I woke up this morning with every intention not to write anything today.  Recently, life for me ain’t been no kinds of a crystal stair.  For the past three weeks through a cold, stomach virus, work fatigue and life in general, I’d been reading and writing for finals in both my classes.  After confirming that I scored another 4.0 for the semester, I decided that for the next three days I was on a writing break.  I needed time for my brain to breathe and fingers to relax.  But then I got an email from the National Conference of Black Political Scientists congratulating me on my second paper abstract being accepted for this year’s conference.  Doing the “me” thing, I decided to bend my rules a little and brush up on some of the reading I did for the submission.  Given that my topic is on Black Female Sexuality and its present reception in society, a lot of my readings were based on theory as well as pop culture things like Amber Rose’s SlutWalk and Brelyn Bowman’s purity pledge.  Scouring the internet for more pop culture examples to dissect in my presentation, I happened upon the whole uproar with Gilbert talking shit about the WBNA.  Admittedly, I heard about his comments before, but that was around the time I was in a post-finals/sick fog where I couldn’t lend it the random pop culture intellect I can now (read as: I was far too tired to give a fuck).  But now that I have my second wind and while I’m in the zone of Black feminist/Womanist thought, let’s have a quick chat about how incredibly stupid comments like Gilly’s really are.  


While blog site after blog site can tell you numerous ways how asininely sexist the comments were, I want to take a step back for a minute and look at the framework from whence this bullshit came.  The bigger problem with Gilbert’s incredibly fucked-up, sexist comments is that they stem from the long-standing tradition and practice of undermining Black women’s sports acumen by criticizing their appearance.  This isn’t an isolated incident.  We’ve been here before.  


We were there in 2000 with Love and Basketball.  Aside from the constant crooning of Maxwell everytime Monica and Quincy were around each other and Zeke keeping his wife’s fine ass in Gucci and gold (such a joy of a quote), one of the subplots in the movie touched on this subject.   While there were no direct comments correlating Monica’s appearance to her basketball ability, one of her constant conflicts throughout the film was the expectation of balancing (or at times outweighing) society’s standard of “being ladylike” against her passion for the sport.  The most compelling scene in the film on this topic was the debate Monica and Quincy had in the car regarding how her “attitude” on the court could cost her being selected for a college team.  When Quincy advises that she should calm down when playing, Monica points out the double standard that women have when playing the sport,


Please, you jump in some guy’s face, talk smack and you get a pat on your ass.  But because I’m a female, I get told to calm down and act like a “lady”.  I’m a ballplayer, okay?  


While rooted in fiction, this example stems from a serious, real-life quagmire female athletes, particularly Black, find themselves in.  When their ability is top-notch, they are often the targets of ad hominem attacks with their femininity being called into question.

We were there in 2007 with Don Imus.  While most of the public outrage was directed to the fact that Imus referred to the Rutgers University Women’s Basketball Team as “nappy headed hoes,” what wasn’t discussed as much was the underlying sentiment that the University of Tennessee Women’s Basketball Team won because they were the “prettier” (and not-so-ironically fairer-skinned) team.  Such reasoning feeds into the erroneous assumption that appearance influences ability.  If that were truly the case, there should be a whole rack of people in the NBA, NFL, and whatever else 3 or 4-lettered sports organizations on unemployment because their looks don’t compare to their ability.  


We were there in 2012 with Gabby Douglas.  Here we had young Miss Douglas slaying the gymnastics competition in the OLYMPICS, yet there was all this controversy about how she wore her hair.  Of course some people in the pithole of opinion hell aka Twitter went just as far to say that Gabby’s hair was the missing element in her being the quintessential Black female athlete role model.




For starters, she is an athlete.  Having gone to an all-girl high school, it really wasn’t an uncommon thing at all for ANY athlete regardless of the sport they played to have a ponytail.  Secondly, she was 16 at the time.  Have any of you people met 16-year-olds?  Their appearances can range from gorge to plain and everything in between.  This includes hairstyle.  When you blend together Gabby’s age and her profession (a profession that she has not even out of high school, mind you), I was neither shocked nor outraged by any of it.  In fact, I expected it.  Watching student athletes in action, who would want to invest time away from practices and working out and money into going to the hairdresser if you’re only going to sweat your hair out hours later?  What was our problem that we were far more concerned with the girl’s snatchback than we were with her snatching gold medals in the name of these United States?


My God, when are we NOT there with Serena?  If I listed every, single example of how her appearance undermined her sports skills, I’d most likely still be writing this “short” piece well into 2016.  Her incidents include Tomasz Wiktorowski comparing Agnieszka Radwanska to Serena stating that they keep her small “because first of all she’s a woman, and she wants to be a woman, being called arrogant and cocky, to the most bizarre recent pandering that a horse be more deserving of Sports Illustrated’s 2015 SportsPERSON of the year honor.  But again, much of the grievances against Williams harken back to the misogynoir framework that a Black female athlete can’t simply be a good athlete without her appearance being called in for critique as well.   


So how do we resolve this conundrum?  For starters, we can continue to serving seats for folks comments, posts, articles, and whatnot that perpetuate this kind of bullshit.  And said seats can be occupied by both men and women (believe me, there were just as many women standing by Arenas as there were men).  But in making this mass purchase order, it will take the effort for both men and women to be vocal about this.   It was great and expected that the WNBA spoke out, and yet we’ve heard next to nothing from the NBA.  Perhaps because deep down, whether they would admit it or not, there is room on the row for them to take a seat as well because they feel the exact same way Arenas does.  As I always say, folks should listen to who speaks and hear who is silent.



Mother Fuckas Never Loved Us: How Black Girls Have Never Mattered in the Fight For Black Liberation



lafdjdlkj“I will not participate in the public bandwagon bashing Bill Cosby. Rape is rape and it is never justifiable, but rape is largely only punished in this country when the victims are white women, and the perp is a Black male….

Where was this outrage when Josh Duggar molested his sisters? There was no outrage instead excuses were made in his defense. While TLC continues to promote 19 Kids and Counting, I’ll continue to remember the images of Black culture that Bill Cosby was responsible for producing. The image of what Cliff Huxtable represented. This was not about any sexual relations Bill Cosby had, but more about tarnishing the legacy of yet another successful and prominent Black figure….

9 Black people were murdered by a confederate flag waving white supremacist, because apparently “you’re raping our women. Yet there’s still discussions about weather that flag should still be allowed, not even…

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Letter From A Black Girl to Rachel Dolezal

Rachel DolezalAshley Afro puffs

Dear Rachel,

My name is Ashley; Ash for short around this time.  I’m between the ages of 4 and 17.  The 29-year-old Ashley would rather not be bothered by you.  Being a scholar of Black studies where she spends countless hours reading, studying, and sorting through Black pain and Black positivness, she is weary.  When she sees you, she sees a mountain of theories, articles, and books from scholars such as bell hooks (“Madonna: Soul Sista or Plantation Mistress”), Edward Said (Orientalism), David Mariott (“On Racial Fetishism”), and Frantz Fanon (The Wretched of the Earth).  After the semester she’s had, the truth is she tired.

But the little girl within her (me) is both intrigued and confused by you.

Contrigued, I supposed.

What I’m contrigued by is how you thought you could just assume the identity and experience as a Black woman without any connection to me, the Black girl.  The experience of the Black girl is critical to the becoming of a Black woman.  It shapes how she thinks, sees, and deals with her in society, be it positively or negatively.

I know that the #AskRachel thing is a joke, but there are some serious things I want to ask you.   Throughout your White childhood did you ever have the following experiences:

  • Holding on to the moment of joy you felt at 4-years-old seeing at least one Black girl character on a cartoon (even if she had no speaking parts or was an extra) because you knew you would probably never see another one again?
  • Having your ear singed from the heat of the hot comb (or the hot comb itself) at 6-years-old to get your hair to look as straight as possible because there’s this social idea that your kinks and coils are “unmanageable”?
  • The pain of having to sit through your first perm at 7-years-old, picking scabs from your scalp every six weeks for years because again, your hair is perceived as “unmanageable”?
  • Wanting to let those natural kinks and coils go free at 16-years-old but not getting that opportunity to have that kind of freedom and confidence in your image until you were 24?
  • Wanting to be as happy as the White girl on the package of a dollar store toy beauty kit at 5-years-old, but being disappointed it’s not realistic for you to try to use the brush and comb on your hair?
  • The anxiety of picking a doll at Toys R Us at 8-years-old because while you knew you should pick one that looked like you, you weren’t convinced you would look or feel as happy as the scores of White girls in the magazines playing with their dolls? Even if there was Kenya?
  • Worn big clothes from 13-years-old because your body was changing and based on the countless music videos and attention you got walking down the street minding your business, the more your clothes fit, the more sexual you were perceived as a Black woman and you did not want that kind of attention?
  • Never having a desire to play with your Addy American Girl doll at 9-years-old because although you could not verbalize it, subconsciously it felt weird to play with struggle of your ancestors (was there ever an Anne Frank doll)?
  • Having the struggle of your life trying to self-identify a sense of pride in yourself as being Black and female when White men, Black men, AND White women are constantly are either speaking of you negatively or ignoring your existence altogether?

Now let’s be clear.  My specific experiences may not have happened to all Black women, but the concept is the same.  Having to navigate through a society that tells you constantly that you are less than does not suddenly happen at 27 (the age where you reportedly started to assume this persona) as a Black woman.  It starts very early when you are a Black girl in the toy store, in school, in your living room watching cartoons, in magazines, and in life.  Unless you had some sort of past life experience (which I don’t believe for a minute that is the case here), I fail to see how you cannot connect with me and peg yourself as a Black woman.

It is for this reason, Rachel, why despite your commendable contributions to Black advocacy, I refuse to let you, your jheri curl hair store wig, and golden tan Bare Minerals blackface just rock.  My experience is not a costume nor a fabrication.  There are levels to Black womanhood.  Considering studies like #BlackGirlsMatter, the outcry against My Brother’s Keeper, and movements like #SayHerName, we are slowly realizing that Black girls are largely ignored or harshly criticized in society.  Accepting you as only having ten years of being a Black woman would be a slap in the face to the many years of serious soul searching I did in order to be Black women.  Others are still searching, even well into adulthood.  Some may never get there.

To validate your version of Black womanhood would invalidate and erase the necessity of Black girlhood.  That the essence (and in your case benefits) of Black womanhood without going through the experience of Black girlhood is easily bought and sold through a few good works, a disguise.  It says that my journey to get where I am does not matter.  It says that my experience does not exist. That’s troubling.  If we are this dismissively accepting of a White woman pretending to have a Black women’s experience, it makes sense why we have so many hurt and damaged Black women around today.  When they were little Black girls, they did not matter.  They still don’t apparently.

In closing, I think that I can speak for both the Black girl within and the Black woman becoming that this was beyond not being cool.  For the umpteenth time, you seriously did not have to lie to kick it.  But you did and now to me, the Black girl Ashley, we can’t be friends.

The Black woman Ashley simply says, “Fuck you.”

“Mass Organization=Sorority Level”: What We Can Learn From the Demise of Sorority Sisters

So let me preface to say that yes, I am a member of a sorority.  Just admitting that alone I know more than half of you are probably rolling, your eyes, sucking your teeth, or contemplating flipping to another blog.  Stay with me if you can. I’ll get right back to y’all in a second.  Let me also say that I am not speaking on behalf of my organization in any way; I’m just a member of a sorority who has an opinion (as right or wrong as it may be to some folks).  Now that all formalities are out the way, here’s how I break.

As I spent my Founders’ Day yesterday at work posting pictures in my favorite crimson and cream sweater, dusting off my red Chuck Taylors, and indulging in red velvet cupcakes, the internet gave me one of the nicest gifts I’ve ever received on January 13th in a minute.  While putting on my coat and getting ready to head to class, I got an alert on my phone that a high school friend (who is not in a sorority) tagged me to a picture on Instagram.  As most people do who are addicted to social media, I put down my coat and checked my phone to see what she tagged me to.   Tapping on the little square on the upper right corner of my phone, my screen illuminated with a picture of the infamous Sorority Sisters cast.  Knowing this friend wouldn’t play me like this tagging me to this picture on my Founders Day, I looked in the caption to figure out why she would bring this to my attention.  Inscribed underneath the picture was the following:


According to reports, VH1 reality show #SororitySisters has been cancelled!!!! After Friday the show will no longer air…

Good.  God.

I stood there speechless trying to read the words over and over again to make sure what I was reading was what was registering in my brain.  After about the fifth or so time, my subconscious and conscious came to the agreement that what I was reading and comprehending was for real.  Sorority Sisters was to be no more.

I’ve never been into ratchet reality television.  Anybody that knows me can validate this as a truth.  I’ve signed several online petitions, was totally here for Michaelangela Davis’s “Bury the Ratchet” campaign, and  I simply don’t watch the shows.  The only way I would know anything that is going on these programs is because of social media telling me how folks are proposing to men, knocking people out, sleeping with former boyfriends, sleeping with current boyfriends, keeping sidewives as sidehoes, or anything else like that.  With that being understood, I think I fail to meet the qualification of the chastising argument given to Sorority members who are opposed to Sorority Sisters, “Well, you watch the other reality shows though.”

From the beginning I have always been an adamant opponent of the show.  And when I say from the beginning I mean way back when Mona and Company posted that my-first-iPhone  taped YouTube commercial one random day in July 2014.  After watching the National Pan-Hellenic Council (NPHC) sororities (Alpha Kappa Alpha, Delta Sigma Theta, Zeta Phi Beta, and Sigma Gamma Rho) silence and snatched the commercial from the internet almost as fast as it was posted, I thought it would be the last we would hear about this foolishness.

Oh, but then…

I still can’t remember what I was watching, but I remember being in my bed and then seeing the first commercial saying the bullish was back.  Mona took her name off the producer list, but I didn’t think she wasn’t chilling in the background.  Imediately, my phone started jumping with texts from Greek friends and family asking if I had seen the travesty.  I responded to many with dismay and confusion of its unusual return (the promo aired not even a week before the premiere).  I thought we deaded this months ago?  Does this show have the lifespan of a multitude of cockroaches?  WHY IS IT BACK?!?!?

Within the coming days, I saw countless pleas from the people (some in sororities and some not) to give it a chance.  That maybe it would be a good look for us?  *In my Take A Bow voice* PLEASE.  Bad black images under the guise of “reality” are the bread and butter of the Mona Scott Young empire.  Her name may have disappeared  but I doubt if her influence did.  After ten or so years of this, we know how she rolls by now.  If it ain’t about the ratchet, you can miss her wit it.  But out of the darkness of disparity, Black social media gave me hope.  There was a campaign afoot to combat television trash in the form of petitioning, boycotting sponsors, channel blocking, and protesting.  It took a little while to get folks on board, but eventually the hash tag #BoycottSororitySisters became a thing; and a very good thing, might I add.  What amazed me was the variety of people that participated.  Men and women; older people and younger people; BGLO members and non-BGLO members.  A lot of friends who I knew from elementary, high school, and college that didn’t pledge gave me a lot of support (it also made me realize how much I really display my org if I was their first reference point in hearing about this mess).  Since the first airing of the Greek tragedy (no pun or exaggeration; I heard it was really that terrible), the protest had taken root and grown.  While VH1 tried to downplay the social media demonstration as minimal, subtle hints suggested otherwise.  Like their standing firm in a pool of quicksand that the show was “really connecting with its audience.”  Hmm, steadily declining weekly ratings indicated a connection?  News to me.  Or when they said that it was only a few members that took issue with the program.  Hmmm, I’ll give the benefit of the doubt that maybe the folks at VH1 just don’t get how NPHC’s work.  Those “few” members (aside from the countless tweets and tags you got from other pissed off members) wrote a letter to you all saying how as a collective unit, they weren’t here for this program.  Those “few” members were the National Presidents of each of the sororities you decided to include in your Greek Freak Show.  Those “few” members pretty much speak for the entire organization when they speak (or at least that’s how it rolls for me and mines).  And then there was the all time kicker that let you know they were hurting BAD: that pathetic little sit-down for the cast to “defend” themselves.  What is there to defend exactly, doll?  You prostituted your membership in your organization to act a purebred fool for a paycheck.  In the NPHC world, there is no defending that and you know it.

But despite such useless strategies, protesters were steadfast in our approach which appears to e paying off now.

We could argue all day about the rights and wrongs about Fraternity and Sorority life, the seemingly pointlessness of protesting this kind of thing, and how it appears contradictory to protest against one show but not the others.  But to me, again as an opponent of all reality ratchet television, this wastes a lot of time and energy that can be better spent into formulizing new strategies, which is what I’d rather hear being discussed.  How can we as a people replicate the approach to combat other shows and social issues?

Key word: Organization.

One of the main reasons why the #BoycottSororitySisters movement was able to produce results so quickly was because it was an organized effort by an organized entity.  To my knowledge, there is no National Basketball Wives Association of Anycity, USA or Hip Hop Jumpoffs Junction, Inc. to go after these kinds of shows that degrade their featured demographic.  Despite how folks may feel about the whole concept of fraternities and sororities, it cannot be denied there is power in a unified front.  This demonstration showed that (which is a concept I think Black people have been struggling with for a while, but that’s another writing piece).

But therein lies a conundrum: How do we get organized?  In constantly reading different stories about the Sorority Sisters debacle, the comments sections always seem so filled with attacks from NPHC members and non-NPHC members towards each other.  Speaking in this capacity, there is one thing that both sides need if we are to effectively organize–humility.

NPHC Fraters and Sorors, we have to be humble enough to learn from AND teach our communities.  Yes, we came up with this masterful strategy to combat Sorority Sisters, but what good is it if we don’t reapply it elsewhere to help the communities we claim to support?  And when we teach others what we have done, we must do it in such a way that is helpful, not haughty or with some superiority complex.  Nobody wants help from someone who presents himself/herself like a pretentious jackass no matter how good their intentions may be.  We have to understand our people as well.  We are not better than them, we are them.  Learn their names and know their needs.  Don’t bust up in the hood not knowing what it’s about like Edward Said discussed in Orientalism (Yeah this is a Political Science nerd reference; he was actually talking about European infiltration in the East but you get my drift)  Alpha Phi Alpha member Cornell West once said, “You can’t lead the people if you don’t love the people; you can’t save the people if you don’t serve the people.”

Non-NPHC folks, the same prescription of humility to learn and to teach should be used.  Instead of being so quick to negatively criticize what was or was not done earlier, it would behoove you to ask questions about how #BoycottSororitySisters got off the ground so quickly and how the results are materializing.    It is clear that this is a strategy that produces results.  Why not try to learn from it and encourage NPHC members to get involved with your causes (if they are not involved already)?  Again, being a pretentious jackass (i.e.- eye rolls, teeth suck, nitpicking criticism)  works both ways–nobody wants help from one and nobody wants to help one.

I know that when I talk about organizing, I don’t expect that if everybody just smiled on their brother (or sister) that everything will be okay.  Like we would all magically be on the same page at the same time all of the time.  *Bring the Take a Bow voice back*  PLEASE!  Of all the countless hours studying Organizational Behavior, I know that isn’t going to happen.  That never happens in even the most well-organized groups in the nation.  But even though we may not be on the same page, that does not mean we still can’t be in the same book.

The Curious Case of Lupe Fiasco

Pretty much.

Black Millennials

When rap mogul Jay Z called Lupe Fiasco “a breath of fresh air,” I couldn’t agree more. The year was 2006 when he released Lupe Fiasco’s Food and Liquor. The transition of hip hop as a lyrical haven to a pop culture fixture, was well underway. Gone were the days when stellar rap music was measured by lyrical content and impassioned delivery. Now, the “best” rap songs were weighted on catchy beats and concise hooks and choruses, so as to be repeated easily. Rap was no longer a labor of love, it was a corporate chop-shop.

Lupe entered the mainstream as hip hop was changing from a lyrical exercise to a constant headbanger. At the time, I was proud of Lupe. As hip hop crippled with every Yung Something, Lupe stood strong. His spirit, bold. His content, deep. His musical prowess laid unchallenged in a wave of one-liners. The…

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Elevator Fights and the Elevator to Success: What We Can Learn From The Knowles and Carter Clan


I rightfully admit I was in a funky mood yesterday morning.  It wasn’t anything particularly wrong, just one of those moods most folks in their late twenties go through.  You know, feeling like your life is uneventful, like you’re a step behind on everything.  The usual bullshit.  I was sitting around busily bored at work when I decided to take a trip to Facebook to see if anyone was as over “it” (whatever “it” is) as I was.  I did the usual thing, scrolling up and down the timeline looking at leftover pictures from Mother’s Day, silently chuckling at sub-statuses, and liking all post lamenting about Monday.  I saw this one post on my newsfeed emboldened with the words “SOLANGE VICIOUSLY ATTACKS JAY-Z ON ELEVATOR.”  Now my first thought in all this was, Shit’s gotta be a Facebook virus so I ignored it.  The more I scrolled the more posts I saw with a similar title.  Damn, this virus is spreading faster than smallpox.  When I finally saw TheGrio posting the link and a story, I knew it was real.  I hit up a friend of mines page and clicked the link to see what all the fuss was about.

I’m ashamed yet truthfully admit, that small snippet of the Lifestyles of the Rich and Ratchet lifted my spirits.  Not that I overtly rejoice in the misguiding moments of others, but I won’t lie and say that a little part of me feels good when others are acting bad.  At least when I’m in a crappy mood.  After watching the video for at least three or four times, I made my way to the comments where friends and strangers were trying to make sense of this masterpiece of menagerie.  What I found most interesting in most of the commentary I read was two things: 1) Why did Beyonce step to the left and not get involved,  and 2) The praising of Jay-Z for not giving Solange the Ike Turner turn-up in the elevator.  I rightfully do not have the answer to question one and depending on the ENTIRE story of why Solange (who deep down actually is my favorite Knowles sister) made the Met Gala meet Worldstar that evening, I can’t say I’m totally into comment two as well.  But, I do have my ideas on what we’ve just witnessed.  And of course if you know me, you know my ideas always go back to a theory of some sort (this situation, I see two and a possible).  But no worries, due to the hoodratchetness of the hoopla, I won’t go toooooooo deep as to why I think Jay stepped back and Bey stepped aside in that elevator. 

In 1762, Jean-Jacques Rousseau wrote a book called Du contrat social ou Principes du droit politique (Of The Social Contract or Principals of Political Right).  The main argument of the text was an explanation of how the monarchs (the rich folks) are empowered to legislate and rule over the serfs (poor folks).  Putting it in perspective, Rousseau was giving a breakdown of our societal system between the have and the have-nots (no Tyler Perry).  In 1988, Carole Pateman used the same format as Rosseau and wrote a book called The Sexual Contract where she discussed the discrepancies between men and women.  In 1997, Charles Mills used the same format as Pateman and Rousseau but discussed the discrepancies of race in The Racial Contract.  In all three texts, it was pretty much covered that there is levels to this society shit, as Meek Mills would say.  With all that out there, I begin to answer the question that I think is pretty much on your mind at the moment, “What the entire fledgling fuck does this have to do with Beyonce, Jay-Z, and Solange serving that ass whooping in an elevator?”

Understanding the theories of these contracts, specifically racial and social, it has everything to do with it.  It has everything to do with how and why Jay and Bey may have reacted to Solange’s actions.

As Mills (Charles, not Meek), contends, “The Racial Contract is political, moral, and epistemological, the Racial Contract is real, and economically, in determining who gets what…” (9).  There are several components to the functions of the racial contract in terms of signatories, beneficiaries, and sub-beneficiaries.  Signatories and beneficiaries are what Mills (again, Charles and not Meek) considers the White people who benefit from the way the societal system is designed.  Sub-beneficiaries is a group I categorize as the non-Whites who benefit from the spoils of the Racial Contract under strict conditions.  By being a commodity under the guise of camaraderie, sub-beneficiaries of the Racial Contract can enjoy the spoils of White success and acceptance…that is until they are in breach of contract and act up (Chris Brown, O.J. Simpson, need I go on).  If you haven’t noticed, Jay and Bey have been making TONS of White money for the past few years.  Endorsements out the ass.  Partnerships galore.  Ventures everywhere.  They are truly enjoying their lives as sub-beneficiaries of their racial and social contracts.  Why would they want to give all that up in an elevator?

Seriously, let’s look at our contenders here.  You have Solange and then you have Jay.  If Jay put his hands on Solange, it would be bye bye for the Samsung partnerships.  So long for the showings of Made in America and Picasso Baby on Showtime and HBO.  And as for that tour?  Aside from the demands of our schillings being refunded from the stadiums, the real money that would be lost would be ALLLLLLLLLLLLLLL the major endorsements for said tour, especially those that may have a morality clause (look it up, that’s a sinker for most celebs).  Pepsi would peace out.  Chase would be chased away.  All of that.  Gone.  It may not seem like a lot to lose for some people, but as someone who watches major endorsement deals go down on a regular basis professionally, that is a HUGE deal.  It also wouldn’t be a good look for those associated with Jigga if he behaved like a nigga.  Bey was already catching the feminist fire from Jay’s Ike Turner line; had he actually put action to those words………wooooooooo fucking wee.  And Obama has enough issues to address with Nigeria kidnapping schoolgirls (#bringbackourgirls), the Ukraine and Russia acting up, our debt crisis, and everything else that’s turning his hair white.  Why would he want to waste the precious time of his speechwriters to come up with something to say about his homie acting an ass in the elevator?  And then we have Solange.  Again, while she is my favorite Knowles sister, the truth is the truth.  Compared to Jay and Bey, she’s not really losing much.  Yes, she has her own endorsements with Puma, but it’s not the same kind of bread in the bakeries of Jay and Bey.  She’s rich, but has no contract. 

Let’s get back to Bey.  As stated before, like Jay, she is a beneficiary of a social and racial contract.  As part of her contractual agreement, she has to look and act a certain way in certain situations.  The fight and the aftermath in the pictures are proof of that.  I feel like she knew cameras were rolling in the elevator.  As many events as she’s attended in her life, she has to.  With that being *possibly* understood, if she were to go out and join Solange in this Love and Ratchpop response to whatever Jay may or may not have done, that’s a breach of her contract.  That’s a bye bye to her endorsements as well.  Lo’Real won’t love you cooning out, girl.

While I’m definitely not saying all this tells the entire story of what happened, it is still an interesting little lesson to consider and learn.  With that I leave you with these immortal words when talking about folks making Jay-Z and Beyonce money:

Man, we already did that

Now I’m into big things

No time to get sidetracked

Now I’m into big things

Get money now, besides that

Some more big things

I’m into big things

The big things

The big things

(Nas, 1999)