EGG SALAD

I have watched Lemonade 4 times. And each time, I am moved, literally to tears by what Beyonce has done with her artistry. I celebrate her, I applaud her, I root for her, and I hope that every other white woman in the world has the same superficial reaction. Because at the end of the day, that’s what it is: superficial. Because that’s all it can be. 

Lemonade is not for me. It is for the millions, and millions of black women who have stood in the shadows and been told they can’t do something, they’re not worth anything, and that they have no agency to change this paradigm. I cannot  experience on any deeper level than face value what Beyonce has offered up to me. So while I have welled up, and while I do hear lyrics and see images that resonate with me, I also realize that I do not have the right to claim any identity with this piece of artistry. 

But what I can do is recognize what a powerful moment in history this is for black women. I can celebrate, I can love, I can adore, and then I can step back and let the strong, beautiful women that Lemonade is intended for have this visibility and victory. 

I am a Marnie.