Serena Williams' appearance alongside Kendrick Lamar during his Super Bowl 59 halftime performance was a potent visual, a Black icon supporting another on a global stage. However, the narrative surrounding her presence, and the performance itself, reveals the persistent and often insidious centering of whiteness, even in spaces meant to celebrate Black excellence. Further complicating the narrative are layers of cultural context, including the dance she performed, her personal history, and the intricate web of relationships connecting her, Lamar, and Drake.
While many celebrated Williams' appearance as a show of solidarity and cultural pride, the discourse often subtly shifted the focus. Discussions quickly turned to speculation about why she was there, what it meant for her career, and how it benefited the show. This immediate need to justify her presence, to explain her connection to the event in terms of its value to a white audience, exemplifies how whiteness operates as an unspoken center. It subtly demands that Black achievements be validated by their perceived relevance to the dominant culture.
This co-opting of conversation, no matter how subtle, is diminishing Williams' agency or the power of her presence in these events. Unfortunately, it’s not a new tune. Even in a performance celebrating Black artistry, the underlying current of whiteness often slips in to reshape the narrative, shifting the focus from the inherent value of Black expression to its perceived value within a white-centric framework.
In this instance, the situation is further complicated by the fact that Williams performed a dance move known as the "crip walk." This dance move, originating from a Black, disabled vaudeville dancer named Henry "Crip" Heard, later adapted & co-opted by the Crips gang, carries a complex history. Yet, like many aspects of Black culture, it has been appropriated and mainstreamed, often divorced from its original context. This mainstreaming, while sometimes seen as a form of cultural exchange, can also be a form of erasure, stripping the dance of its historical weight. This is particularly poignant considering Williams' own tragic history: her sister, Yetunde Price, was a victim of gang crossfire, caused by a Crip member. For Williams to perform this dance, associated with a group responsible for the very violence that took her sister's life, speaks to the complex, multilayered realities of Black life. It underscores the idea that issues are rarely simple and that personal histories can intersect with broader cultural expressions in unexpected ways. In this particular instance, it's not about condoning gang violence; it's about acknowledging the complex relationship between Black individuals and the American culture that has both shaped and, at times, harmed them. It also speaks to a deeper connection within the Black community: the overall displeasure of anyone who colonizes culture for monetary gain.
Speaking of Culture Colonization, adding another layer of complexity, is the song to which Williams danced: "NOT LIKE US", a Drake diss track. Williams, famously an ex-girlfriend of Drake, has now appeared in a performance orchestrated by Kendrick Lamar, who has his own well-documented beef with Drake. This isn't the first time Lamar has brought someone associated with Drake into his ongoing feud, often collaborating with R&B Songstress SZA, who also appeared during the Super Bowl for a performance of “ALL THE STARS” from the BLACK PANTHER Soundtrack These carefully calculated move underscores the meticulous planning that goes into Lamar's performances. He's not just "some thug" as much of White America tries to stereotype him; he's a Pulitzer Prize-winning artist with immense credibility and a keen understanding of how to use his platform to make powerful statements, both artistically and personally. The inclusion of Williams in this context isn't a random occurrence; it's a deliberate choice, adding fuel to the fire of his ongoing rivalry with Drake. But… it’s deeper than a rap beef. This is a beef with the systems that relegate us to 2nd class citizens, hoping to diminish our light before we can even shine.
Something else worth acknowledging: The Super Bowl halftime show operates within a system built on white structures and expectations. The very notion of it is a product of a commercialized, largely white-dominated entertainment industry. This isn't a criticism of Lamar's artistry or Williams' participation, but rather a recognition of the complex dynamics at play: While Kendrick Lamar's performance was undeniably powerful and culturally significant, it still existed within this framework. It can be a challenge to watch how even in moments of celebration, the pervasive influence of whiteness works to shape how Black achievements are perceived and framed. However, even within these constraints, Lamar masterfully utilized his platform to deliver a message of protest and revolution. He cleverly navigated the system, using its own platform to amplify his voice and challenge the very structures that confine him. This act of subversion, of using the belly of the beast to fuel change, is a testament to Lamar's artistry and his commitment to social justice. He outsmarted the system, using its own game against it… and within that, he platformed the most prolific, progressive and powerful beings he could: The Black Woman, or as Malcolm X referred to them: The most disrespected… unprotected… neglected persons in America.
There is an active reduction of Serena Williams' appearance to only matter within the context of the "white events" she's been a part of. This active reduction diminishes the fullness of her life and her significance as a Black woman in America. It ignores the breadth of her accomplishments, the struggles she has overcome, and the cultural impact she has had. Yes, It's particularly ironic to consider her Wimbledon appearance in the context of her Super Bowl performance, as she was indeed fined for notably "crip walking" after a victory… while her white counterparts are often afforded the freedom to express their joy and triumph however they see fit, often without similar repercussions or scrutiny.
That said, the serendipity of her Super Bowl appearance: performing a dance move with complex cultural and personal resonance, alongside Kendrick Lamar, while the conversation around her presence continues to center whiteness, underscores the ongoing struggle for Black individuals to exist and celebrate authentically, without the constant scrutiny and judgment of a white gaze. As hard as this is to recognize, it must be said: Her presence at the Super Bowl had little to do with her connection to whiteness; it was squarely her connection to Blackness, to Kendrick Lamar's artistry, to the complex tapestry of her own life experiences, and, perhaps most importantly, to her right to celebrate on her own terms, a right that has been challenged and scrutinized throughout her career that justifies her dancing on the symbolic graves of all of those that are, indeed not like us.
Moving forward, it's crucial to be more aware of these dynamics. The danger of centering whiteness lies in its insidious nature. It's not always overt racism or explicit prejudice. Often, it's a subtle, unspoken assumption that whiteness is the default, the standard against which everything else is measured. This can lead to the erasure and minimization of Black experiences, the perpetuation of harmful stereotypes, and the deflection of attention from the very real issues of racial inequality. We need to challenge the automatic centering of whiteness, even in seemingly celebratory spaces. We need to amplify Black voices and perspectives without constantly filtering them through a white lens. Only then can we truly create a space where Black excellence is celebrated for its own sake, not for its perceived value to the dominant culture. Serena Williams' presence at the halftime show was a moment of Black excellence, layered with personal history, cultural significance, complex relationships, and a powerful act of protest within constraints. Let's ensure that future celebrations of Black artistry are allowed to exist on their own terms, free from the subtle yet pervasive demands of whiteness, and acknowledge the intricate layers of meaning embedded within them, including the ways artists like Kendrick Lamar manage to subvert and challenge the very systems they operate within.
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