Misogynoir Transformed
A study guide of Moya Bailey’s 2021 book ‘Misogynoir Transformed: Black Women's Digital Resistance.’
Summary, part 4
Chapter 3: Webshow Worldbuilding Mitigates Misogynoir
This chapter examines the proliferation of Black queer women’s YouTube series, an example of how this group was working to redefine representation through their own creative works and activities. Building from the growth of queer and of color media production, the movements of the 1970s, 80s, and 90s, led to younger Black queer and trans voices coming through in various artistic forms: web series, visibility projects, funding initiatives, and more. Bailey uses the short film Pariah (2011) as an example of this, as well as The Misadventures of an Awkward Black Girl (2011-2013).
Technology became less cumbersome and cheaper/more accessible, so many creators made their way to YouTube. The content of these channels began breaking stereotypes early on. One example is that many of these creators were in southern cities (i.e., not all queer life exists in Northern metropoles).
So, what makes an online platform unique? How has it become such a popular platform for Black queer and trans creators? Mainly, digital media makers are mainly concerned with creating content for their own networks rather than “privileged out-group members” (p. 104). Bailey explains that,
This work is less about creating positive or respectable images that would appeal to normative audiences, but rather a means for creating networks and representations that speak to communities not acknowledged in mainstream media. (ibid)
This means that the audience can see content that centers on their life experience. Queer theorists Aymar Jean Christian and Faithe Day call this “quare-shared recognition” (p. 105). Queerness and Blackness are at the center, not the periphery. And it is not a source of tension, but one of aspiration. Many of these creators create a space of “worldbuilding” in the sense that viewers become part of the experience and realities of Black queer life.
The three web episodes examined by Bailey critique familial and friend relationships while promoting healthy social networks beyond just sexual partners. How it fits in with misogynoir: the web shows intentionally and unintentionally perpetuate misogynoir, especially in the way the masculinity and femininity of the characters are represented. It offers a view into the life of a Black queer woman while exposing the “messy reality that misogynoir can and does live there too” (p. 106).
Skye’s The Limit
Skye's The Limit is a webshow created by Black queer writer and producer Blue Telusma which follows a group of Black queer friends in the Washington, D.C., metro area. Many of the plot points follow a classic model of uncommunicated desire and miscommunication between lovers, but much of the show transcends those tropes and even pushes back against them.
Let’s take a moment to recognize what makes web shows different from traditional mainstream media:
They can explore topics rarely talked about such as gender roles, kink, and queer sex, among others.
The social platforms allowed viewers to engage with the show and actors beyond the episodes, creating fierce fan loyalty and following (106).
The shows are not bound by typical ideas of what a show should look like, in style, format, character arcs, etc.
The shows can have characters with more diverse skin tones and body types.
Breaking Physical Assumptions
The show consistently challenged inherent industry-wide stereotypes and assumptions. Within Skye's the Limit, there are light-skinned masculine love interests and dark-skinned feminine love interests “subvert a subtle tendency in mainstream media to equate masculinity and melanin” (p. 107). In addition, the two fat Black femme characters are both desirable and sexy and never try to change their size, and it is never the butt of a joke. As for sexuality, the characters don’t necessarily fit within perfect labels like “lesbian” or “bi” (p. 107).
Challenging Assumptions About Mental Health
Therapy is presented as a regular and accessible health practice for Black queer characters. Much of the show centers on Skye, the main character, and Jay, a supporting character’s changing relationship. In a time of pain for Skye, Bailey points out that “Part of undoing the damage of misogynoir is making room for Black women to heal and transform their relationships to themselves and others” (p. 114). To begin that healing process, Mutha Indigo, a Black trans therapist, encourages Skye to look into the health of the spiritual and physical body.
The Ever-Present Misogynoir
The show is not void of flaws, there are two masculine-of-center characters who are an example of queer-baiting, i.e. the teasing of a queer relationship but never allowing them to be together. In addition to that, the last episode features a scene of abuse between a masculine-of-center character and her feminine girlfriend, perpetuating the ever-present toxic masculinity steeped in patriarchal violence. This show prompts conversations, but cannot escape the plagues of misogynoir with their continued themes of unaddressed toxic masculinity.
Between Women
Between Women is an essential piece of Black-driven web content. It is the most popular and went on for three seasons, but Bailey makes it clear that the show creates a world of unrealistic, and almost unbelievable, wealth disparities between its titular characters which is in contrast to Skye’s the Limit’s center on middle-class college-educated characters. With that said, “Black lesbians are more likely to live in poverty than their cishet counterparts, so the range of Black lesbian employment options portrayed on these web shows is a deliberate act of generative digital alchemy” (p. 120).
Misogynoir and Patriarchal Themes
Much of the show centers on gay marriage and delves deep into the realities of different Black queer relationships, and it displays the tension between the fantasy of gay marriage and the messiness of reality. Miller, the main character who is a masculine-of-center lesbian, is introduced while cheating on her long-term partner. She calls her partner to let her know that gay marriage is legal, all while she has a secretary on her lap: “Misogynoir is masked through the veneer of the masculine-of-center characters in these shows” (121).
There is a scene where two masculine-of-center characters have a miscommunicated kiss. It is framed as a joke, but Bailey points out that this is a common thread in the queer community: ostracising masculine pairings in favor of butch/femme partnering, while femme/femme relationships, on the other hand, are common in all three shows.
There are scenes of psychological abuse and intimate partner violence in Between Women. Bailey points out that, unlike a Tyler Perry production, the abuse is called out by friends and the victim is encouraged to leave the relationship. The show also touches on police intervention, something particularly dangerous for Black trans women, and later, it delves into mental health. A therapy session with the abuser to give a peek into her mind which is something rarely seen in mainstream media. Hearing her reasonings and her path towards working on her aggression shows her transformation, as opposed to locking her into a singular reality. This act mitigates misogynoir. Showrunner Michelle A. Daniel considers the power of media to transform how people engage with their own trauma.
195 Lewis
Created by Rae Leone Allen and Yaani Supreme and directed by Chanelle Aponte Pearson, this show was a high-budget introduction to polyamory and how it functions in the Black queer community. 195 Lewis sets out with clear political and social ideologies by bringing up misogyny and capitalism in the first few minutes.
Physical, Mental, and Spiritual Health
195 Lewis touches on STIs and weaves in conversations on safe sex—normalizing it and working together on making a healthier community. Bailey points out that, “The mutual support of the interaction is an essential tool in the arsenal of Black women’s health praxis” (p. 141).
One unique aspect of 195 Lewis is how spirituality is considered. Bailey points out that younger generations are reclaiming religious and spiritual practices beyond Christianity, and 195 Lewis models ways in which Black queer women can be spiritual beyond the Christian church.
Unlike the previous two shows, Uri, a masculine character, does not display manipulative toxic masculinity. In addition, Black women’s mental and physical health are at center stage. Still, misogynoir persists particularly in the masculine/feminine relationships: “Black queer web shows display the toxic masculinity that exists in their communities but has not yet endeavored to offer a possible model for a reimagined feminist masculinity” (p. 143).
These shows demonstrate that Black queer women are not waiting for traditional television to make a space for them, they are making their own spaces for their communities online.