The past week has been quite special: every day, Solange paid me a visit. She sat next to me on the subway, reminding me that my hair is the feelings I wear. She walked me home from work, pointing out the cranes in the sky. We grocery shopped together and she gave me something that’s just for us, even in a world that was made for someone else.
At one point, Solange brought Master P into my living room to share his story of leaving the projects to build an empire that people told him was impossible. She and her mother road the elevator with me, Tina speaking passionately about the importance of being proud of my Blackness – of everyone’s Blackness.
With A Seat at the Table, Solange planted herself at my side and crooned in my ear, speaking her truth, my truth, our truth. In F.U.B.U. specifically, Solange placed me somewhere between Kendrick Lamar’s ‘Alright’ and Andra Day’s ‘Rise Up.’ I was equally empowered by all three, but Solange shed some of Kendrick’s aggression and avoided the swells of hope that Andra evoked.
The result was a song that didn’t ask me to do anything but walk in my truth and let her music shut out the rest of the world. It's a song for when I’m tired of the violence, when I’m sad about the loss, when I’m angry about the inequality. I don’t have to protest or sing kumbaya; I just have to be. I can just listen to the thing that was made for us by one of us to empower us.
At one point, Solange brought Master P into my living room to share his story of leaving the projects to build an empire that people told him was impossible. She and her mother road the elevator with me, Tina speaking passionately about the importance of being proud of my Blackness – of everyone’s Blackness.
With A Seat at the Table, Solange planted herself at my side and crooned in my ear, speaking her truth, my truth, our truth. In F.U.B.U. specifically, Solange placed me somewhere between Kendrick Lamar’s ‘Alright’ and Andra Day’s ‘Rise Up.’ I was equally empowered by all three, but Solange shed some of Kendrick’s aggression and avoided the swells of hope that Andra evoked.
The result was a song that didn’t ask me to do anything but walk in my truth and let her music shut out the rest of the world. It's a song for when I’m tired of the violence, when I’m sad about the loss, when I’m angry about the inequality. I don’t have to protest or sing kumbaya; I just have to be. I can just listen to the thing that was made for us by one of us to empower us.
Made this song to make it all y’all’s turn
Solange carved out a place for her people with this album. She gave us music with a message that resonated with so many of us. Her honesty lulls us into introspection. In the progression of her album, Solange shows us that self-examination not only teaches us about ourselves, it also gives us room to be critical of the world around us. As we become more secure in ourselves – flaws, challenges, triumphs and all– we become less accepting of a world that is not designed for us to flourish.
This is why Solange’s work is so important: it pushes against boundaries hard enough to make room for people who look like her to feel that they can prosper in their own skin. I think this is what we should all aspire to: find ways to create space and opportunities for people who otherwise might not have those things. Most of us cannot do so on a platform as large as Solange’s, but in our communities and professional fields, we can do this. When we get a seat at the table, we can certainly pull up a chair to make room for one more.
This is why Solange’s work is so important: it pushes against boundaries hard enough to make room for people who look like her to feel that they can prosper in their own skin. I think this is what we should all aspire to: find ways to create space and opportunities for people who otherwise might not have those things. Most of us cannot do so on a platform as large as Solange’s, but in our communities and professional fields, we can do this. When we get a seat at the table, we can certainly pull up a chair to make room for one more.