by Guest Contributor Sabia McCoy-Torres
Meanwhile, Minaj’s Grammy performance included a mini-film depicting a priest making a house call to exorcise the demon possessing a child named Roman. Roman was referred to many times as “he” but when the child was revealed, rather than a boy we saw a tormented and psychotic Minaj with long blonde hair applying pink lipstick singing “I Feel Pretty.” Does the possessed boy become Nicki Minajwhen dressed in drag? Is Minaj possessed by Roman, a boy who likes pink lipstick and Broadway songs, or is she just trying to be as quirky as possible? Regardless of where Minaj was leading her audience, it was clear she was toying with gender presentation and interpretation, a hallmark of her persona that has an impact on her community of listeners.
I most recently noticed the impact that the openness of artists like Nicki Minaj to sexual ambiguity is having when I returned to my neighborhood in the Bronx after a two year stint living in Costa Rica. In that brief period away I realized much had changed: men in the hood were wearing tight jeans, 80s style had come back in full effect, and there was a growing visibility of what I dubbed “neo-soul Black hipsters.” I also noticed an abundance of pretty teenage girls on the 4, 6, and D trains to the Bronx with their equally handsome boyfriends who on second glance, and sometimes fourth and fifth, I realized were actually two beautiful girls unabashedly holding hands, in the midst of quiet embraces, or giving voyeuristic displays passionate kissing.
A friend recently asked me: “Remember back in the day when there were no gay youth?” And I had to agree that I shared that memory. Of course it wasn’t that there were no gay youth, rather it was that they weren’t as visible, especially in our predominately Black and Latino neighborhoods. It was clear to me that a shift had occurred while I was away. Gay openness was becoming not only a thing of adult men and women in the West Village but also of urban Black and Latina youth in inner-city New York.
My seventeen year old sister, who identifies as a straight, mixed Black and Puerto Rican female, also reflects this new shift in urban communities. She recently broke down to me the many terms for the varying types of young lesbians and was shocked by my ignorance of them. There were AG’s, Femmes, Studs, and many more, each label describing a specific style and gender persona characterized by different degrees of masculinity, femininity, or a complex melding of the two. To my sister this was common knowledge, whereas when I was a teen such title distinctions were strictly “gay knowledge” and the rest of us chilled in our heteronormative worlds not really concerned with our gay classmates. Additionally, only “certain” people had gay friends, in other words, gay and straight teen social worlds did not mix much. There is a stark contrast today that is demonstrated by my younger sister’s knowledge and the comparative lack of heteronormativity in her social world.
All in the same moment of my return, Nicki Minaj hit the scene hard. It may seem a little late to bring up Nicki Minaj and sexuality; however, I am not concerned with questions of Minaj’s own sexuality rather the way in which she reflects the openness towards diverse sexual orientations, ambiguity, gender play, and androgyny that I see around me, and growing, on inner New York City streets.
While Nicki Minaj’s visual representation is hyperfeminine (as well as uber-weird), her image often contrasts with her vocal style and lyrics. Minaj has voices for her many facades, which are often connected to a gender persona or sexual orientation–a deep baritone androgynous voice, and a gruff, aggressive male one, that she might juxtapose with a feminine “girly-girl” voice. All can be heard in a single verse on Kanye West’s “Monster.”
Along with her many voices, Minaj’s lyrics are full of gender play and homo/bisexual innuendo. She roles up in her whip not with her fellas or a team of ride or die girls, but rather, “with a bad bitch that came from Sri Lanka,” i.e. a fine chick by her side (M.I.A. perhaps?). Furthermore, if she is not referring to herself as one of the scariest (“Freddy Kruger I’m a rap bitch nightmare”) or most threatening (“It’s Friday the 13th and guess who’s playin’ Jason”) male figures to hit 1980s theaters, then she’s likening herself to other men, even David, a Biblical favorite saying: “In this very moment I’m King, in this very moment I slay Goliath with the sling…Clap for the heavy weight champ…me.” She embodies these men, but she is also a woman with a “pink wig thick ass” that gives men “whip lash” when they stop to check her rollin’ up in a “Barbie Bentley,” and ain’t afraid to let a girl know: “’Scuse me little mama…I’m lookin’ for a cutie a real big ole ghetto booty. I really like your kitty cat and if you let me touch her, I know you’re not a bluffer I’ll take you to go see Usher.”
With her approach to lyricism Nicki Minaj has distanced herself from finding power in the raw sexual expression alone of say, Lil Kim, and turned to claiming male, androgynous, and multisexual identities to locate her power, agency, and rootedness in the hip-hop game. Some scholars and “conventional” feminists might say that finding power in masculinity is a reproduction of the same oppressive system that sees the feminine as weak and undeserving of power or leadership. In response, I would point out that Nicki Minaj has adjusted to and used to her advantage the masculinity that oozes from hip-hop culture and urban representations, cleverly flipping it upside-down on its head, and using the master’s (hip hop industry) tools (hypermasculinity) against him in his own house in an almost mocking way.
At the same time, Minaj is reflecting the transforming approach to gender and sexuality of the new generation of inner-city New York youth, the growing community of urban gay teenagers and their absorption into hip-hop cultural understanding. Speaking to Bronx natives Yuri, 17, China, 16, who both identify as straight teenage girls of color, and Jamilia, 18, who identifies as a young Black lesbian gave me insight into this.
According to all three girls, there is a certain shock value that comes along with “the gay stuff” that even though not necessarily expressing Minaj’s true sexual identity (Minaj has publically denied being gay or bisexual), still makes her likeable to an array of urban youth. China and Yuri add that gay youth like Minaj for promoting their community, straight guys for the sexual appeal of her lesbian fancies, and straight girls because she’s badass. Minaj’s lyrics, voices, and personas both attract and address different sexually oriented communities, even though it is for lyrical play and not for truth. However, more than simply reflecting, is Nicki Minaj also impacting the youth perspective?
Jamilia explains that Nicki Minaj is making the gay community larger. Fresh from middle school, incoming freshmen at Jamilia’s high school are identifying as gay at the tender age of 14. Returning to my friend’s comment about there being no gay youth back in the day, Jamilia sees their growing visibility as attributable to the music of artists like Nicki Minaj who bring bisexuality, mixed gender identities, gender play, and homosexuality to the forefront allowing kids to identify with it, in turn, as she points out: “Nicki Minaj is making it cool to be that way,” as well as acceptable.
Essentially, there seems to be an earlier awareness of the possibility of gay identity, whether certain or not, an awareness that Jamilia attributes to the exposure that artists like Nicki Minaj give to alternative sexual identities and her embracing them.
I’m basing my discussion largely on women because it is almost exclusively young lesbians that are increasingly visible in urban spaces. China thinks the openness of lesbian teens has to do with young girls coming of age surrounded by other girls in Catholic schools with the idea in mind that being attracted to and intimate with girls is accepted, partly because it is glamorized. I would add that, on the other hand, the relative invisibility of gay teen men is in part due to the glorification of heterosexual masculinity in urban communities, which is also reflected in hip-hop music and its surrounding culture. Even masculine lesbians fit within the urban and hip-hop ethos more than gay man. So while it may be cool, sexy, or at least acceptable to be a lesbian, the hypermasculinity that defines “the streets” might discourage gay male openness, for which there is also no rap promoter.
What is the relevance of Nicki Minaj’s lyrics and representation, and the simultaneous absorption of the gay community into hip-hop cultural understanding to the changes happening in New York City?
On a small level, at least as I have witnessed, it seems there is a growing community of gay allies who are found in teens like Yuri and China. Demonstrating their appreciation of gender and sexual diversity, Yuri and China discuss shows they watch on Logo, a LGBT television network. They explain that they are particularly “open” and that is why they watch Logo, but that other allies show their acceptance through more run-of-the-mill (implying faddish) activity like going to gay parties and the gay pride parade. Minaj has also designated herself an ally saying in Vibe magazine that she embraces “all people of all lifestyles” adding in Out magazine, clearly referring to sexual identities, that “everyone is not black and white. There are so many in the middle, and you’ve got to let people feel comfortable…”
Of course there are many obstacles and much ignorance that must still be overcome on the journey towards NYC and the world embracing the diversity of sexual orientations. Dancehall artist Mr. Vegas, for example, recently lashed out on Twitter against the media and artists like Nicki Minaj for contributing to child molestation through their “publicizing of the gay lifestyle.” However, it is my hope that space continue to be carved out in unlikely places, like the South Bronx, like in hip-hop, for youth of color to think about and embrace their own sexual identities and be respected. Jamilia says that in her BX hood she feels accepted and like she doesn’t need to pretend to be anyone else–and I most definitely say cheers to that.
The post Nicki Ménages Urban Black and Latina Sexual Identities appeared first on Racialicious - the intersection of race and pop culture.
