The Grand Taylor Swift / Nicki Minaj Twitter Debate (Three days! Numerous Tweets! Three and a half celebrities! Ed Sheeran doing something stupid!)
was many things. One of those things, of course, is "over." But we may
also eventually look back on it as the event that defined exactly where
Girl Squad Feminism falls short
.
The basics of the exchange
(or "spat," or "feud," or "catfight," or whatever dogwhistle language
you employ to convey that some hysterical ladies are getting in a tizzy
about their feelings) are now the stuff of Internet History. But here's
the recap: Minaj felt understandably slighted when her video for
"Anaconda" — which broke the VEVO record for most views in a single day,
and was unavoidable in the fall of 2014 — didn't get a Video of the
Year nomination at the VMAs. And, in an error common to any woman with a
Twitter account and too much faith in humanity, she took time to
explain the problem.
"If I
was a different ‘kind' of artist, Anaconda would be nominated for best
choreo and vid of the year as well," she tweeted. "When the ‘other'
girls drop a video that breaks records and impacts culture they get that
nomination."
A "spat," "feud," "catfight" or any other synonym for hysterical ladies in a tizzy
"Other"
means white, of course, and Minaj is not wrong. Out of the five times
"Video of the Year" has been awarded in this decade, four of the winners
have been white: Lady Gaga (2010), Katy Perry (2011), Justin Timberlake
(2013), and Miley Cyrus (2014). Twenty-seven acts have been nominated
for the award since 2010; two of those nominees have been black women.
Minaj could have been talking about Perry, Gaga, Cyrus; hell, she could
have been talking about Iggy Azalea, who is white, is not fond of Minaj, and was a 2014 nominee. But, more to the point, she was talking about a pattern of discrimination.
Unless,
of course, you were Video of the Year nominee Taylor Swift. In that
case, Minaj was obviously talking about Video of the Year nominee Taylor
Swift.
And thus, it began:
The accusations of betrayal ("I've done nothing but love & support
you"). The allegations that Minaj had broken the compact of sisterhood
("It's unlike you to pit women against each other"). The offer to throw
Minaj a bone ("If I win, please come up with me!! You're invited to any
stage I'm ever on").
The
response came fast and hard, and in its wake, a lot of salient points
got drowned in trivialization. (Who unfollowed who? Are we in the midst
of a Taylor Swift Backlash? Is Nicki Minaj too angry? Which one is
prettier? Fav for "Minaj," RT for "Swift," log off Twitter and go
outside for human dignity.) If it wasn't about Swift before she spoke,
it was afterward. And there's still something telling about Swift's
proposed solution: Taylor gets the award, and Nicki gets to stand next
to her, on her stage. Swift's idea of generosity was to offer another
woman second place.
If it wasn't about Swift before she responded, it is now
The
image is a familiar one. Swift has positioned herself as a champion for
girl power, and a lot of it centers around demonstrating that famous
women are friends with Taylor Swift: she brings them on stage at
concerts, puts them in videos, and posts their pictures on Instagram,
and they receive substantial exposure.
She's essentially offering Minaj the same service she's given to Emma
Stone and/or the US Women's National Soccer Team. But that solution
doesn't work if the problem is that you're tired of being pushed to the
sidelines. The message being affirmed, in every photo of Swift's squad,
is the centrality of Taylor Swift.
The
Taylor Swift brand, for all its strengths, has always had an
uncomfortable insistence that Swift is, in fact, the Best Girl In The
World. Before the days of Squad Goals, feminists were criticizing her
for glorifying herself by denigrating women — framing herself as the
pure, innocent woman wronged by an overtly sexual, low-class tart, as in
"Better Than Revenge," or else setting herself up as an ideal
girlfriend, unjustly overlooked in favor of some vapid bimbo, as in "You
Belong With Me." (Or "Speak Now," or "Invisible," or... you know, pick
your song, this was a common theme.)
The
tone has shifted, but the problem isn't over. The racial appropriation
and objectification of black women in the "Shake It Off" video is still
fresh in our memory, but it's also notable that half the video was Swift
mocking other female pop stars. Tina Fey and Amy Poehler have been
advocating feminism for two-thirds of Taylor Swift's lifetime, but if
they make a joke Swift doesn't like, they're bringing women down.
And, as Katy Perry knows, there's a rich vein of irony in the fact that
Swift is calling for women to stop fighting, when the very video she's
nominated for is entirely about her elaborate preparations to punch
another woman in the face. "Bad Blood" is reportedly directed at Perry,
who brought this on by giving Swift's back-up dancers a better job
offer, and who is now clearly having the time of her life with this, as anyone would. "Better Than Revenge" subject Camilla Belle also chimed in,
and was told to drink bleach for her troubles. And Nicki Minaj very
nearly made the hit list by daring to suggest she deserved an award
Swift might get.
It's not
entirely Swift's fault that she's disproportionately hyped: she's white,
blonde, thin, was born rich, and has fine, upper-crust manners — all
qualities that mainstream America instinctively likes and praises. We
refer to a girl like her as "classy," which is really just shorthand for
upper-class. We also penalize every girl who doesn't possess these
rare, privileged traits — whether she's BeyoncĂ©, Rihanna, Nicki Minaj,
or even Katy Perry, who may lack Swift's Emily Post polish, but who also
grew up a minister's daughter on food stamps.
Swift
didn't choose her privileges. But she doesn't have to lean into them,
either. Whether intentionally or not, she's set forth a vision of
"feminism" that can only be enacted by Taylor Swift being the most
successful woman in the room, and other women agreeing to play
supporting roles in her story — a world where your feminist credentials
can be yanked if you differ from her, criticize her, or even seem to
value your own career more than hers.
Women have meaningful, substantive conflicts, which deserve to be taken seriously
I'm
acutely aware that I'm a white woman who can be clueless — let she who
has not #WhiteFeminist-ed cast the first stone. And, for the record, I
think Taylor Swift has said some smart and interesting things in her
time, and I'm very aware that some people in this world (sexists) really
would like nothing better than an excuse to take her down a peg or
demonize her for her success. As you would expect from a star uniquely
skilled at being likable, she got the crisis PR right and got it out
quick: "I thought I was being called out. I missed the point, I misunderstood, then misspoke. I'm sorry, Nicki." Nicki
Minaj, who'd been nothing but civil in her interactions with Swift,
accepted quickly and graciously. It was all very... friendly.
But
not every bad interaction between women is a "catfight," and not every
woman is a traitor for not agreeing with everyone she shares a gender
with. Women have meaningful, substantive conflicts, which deserve to be
taken seriously. The problem Nicki Minaj pointed out is not an opinion,
or a complaint: it's a matter of numbers. It's one in five and two in
27. For feminism to move ahead, those numbers need to change — which
they cannot do, if we have only one Best Girl.
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