I listened to both 25 and Lemonade on repeat this year. I like both albums, and I value both artists. I even felt tears well up as I saw Adele's moving tribute to Beyoncé on Grammy night. I thought what she said to Beyoncé was genuine, moving, and true. I appreciated her acknowledgement of Lemonade's particular value to her Black friends. But, I could't hide the bitter taste in the back of my throat as Adele kept a grammy that she knew she didn't deserve. A grammy that she said she didn't deserve. Breaking it and giving a "piece" of the physical object to Beyoncé doesn't change that the grammy belongs to Adele, and that she will be the one remembered for winning album of the year.
What the world witnessed on February 12th was not only the manifestation of white privilege, but also a reminder of the world's unending dedication to punishing Black women who speak out. Everyone watching that evening knows that the grammy should have gone to Beyoncé. Her album incorporated a visual component, poetry, multiple genres of music, and it spoke to a demographic of people who have been ignored for too long. It demonstrated Black art, history, and culture. The themes of the songs ranged from infidelity to reconciliation, touched on the relationships between parents and children, and her visual album incorporated actresses, athletes, dancers, and other relevant Black creators and artists. Beyoncé's album was aesthetically pleasing, it was musically excellent, and it was vitally important.
Adele's album was good. It was good, but it wasn't important. Like most of Adele's music, the theme of the album was heartbreak. It wasn't followed by any particularly stunning images or videos, nothing new or innovative was done to reach out to any silenced demographic, it didn't challenge anyone's political views, and it didn't make anyone feel uncomfortable. And that is why it won. Adele knows that that is the reason her album won. She admitted it. She knows.
And, even knowing that her album paled in comparison to Beyoncé's, she accepted that award. True allyship would have been walking away. It would have been refusing to accept an award she did not deserve. It would be facing her producers, songwriters, family and friends and explaining why she walked away from the achievement of a lifetime. It would have been scary and hard and it would have been a true, honest, selfless, sacrifice. But she didn't do that.
To be fair, Adele did do more than I expected. She publicly admitted she did not deserve the award. She recognized Beyoncé's album as superior, and she took a step in the right direction of allyship. But in 2017, baby steps are not enough.
White women must start taking strides. You must take leaps towards allyship. It has been baby steps for too long. It was baby steps that allowed segregation to continue, baby steps that failed to push for the vote for Black women during women's suffrage, it was baby steps that allowed President Trump to take office. You must take leaps. If you want to be free, you must take leaps. If you want Black women to be free, take leaps. If you want Native American and Middle Eastern and Asian women to be free, take leaps. We cannot do it without you, and we cannot do it if your allyship only extends up until the moment we require you to make true sacrifice. Allyship is hard. It is exhausting. And yet, it is necessary. If you truly want to make a difference in the lives of your Black and brown sisters, if you genuinely want to right the injustices of this world, you must abandon the comfort of baby steps and take a leap of faith. Your sisters of color will not let you fall.
