Over the past few days, the Internet has been buzzing about how Queen Beyoncé was robbed of Album of the Year by Adele at the 59^th Annual Grammy Awards ceremony this Sunday. It has become a controversy, resulting in enraged fans everywhere protesting that the two cannot be compared and that Beyoncé should have won by a landslide. But quite frankly, the issue is much bigger than that.

The truth of the matter is, a black artist has not won AOTY since 2008 and no black female artist has won it since 1999. Before the 2000s, black artists were seemingly dominating the Grammys and taking home Album of the Year at least twice a decade. During the ’70s, Stevie Wonder singlehandedly remained triumphant almost three years in a row. Michael Jackson and Lionel Richie won consecutively in ’84 and ’85. By the ‘90s, Quincy Jones, Natalie Cole, Whitney Houston, and Lauryn Hill were all victors as well, and rightfully so. It had appeared as though black artists were finally making the kind of progress that is so requisite in this day and age.

But in the years after, a disturbing pattern has emerged. Since 2009-2010, the only people in reception of this award have been predominantly white groups and musicians. In 2010, Beyoncé lost to Taylor Swift. That following year, Arcade Fire had won. In 2012, both Bruno Mars and Rihanna lost to Adele. 2013? Frank Ocean to Mumford & Sons. In 2014, Daft Punk won over Kendrick freaking Lamar. The next three years would entail two black nominees each year losing to their white competitors. It has been nearly a whole entire decade since a black artist has won one of the most prestigious awards the Recording Academy has to offer.

It’s not about race, it’s about who’s more talented. Remember how we felt about how long we had to wait for Leo to get his Oscar, and how satisfied we were when he finally did? That is kind of how we people of color are feeling, except it is most likely a higher level of frustration, because – unlike Leo – Beyoncé is not white, hence it still may be a while before she gets what she deserves. Thus, the people driveling the “don’t play the race card” argument fail to realize that there is something very wrong with this picture. Yes, it is about talent; it is about music; it is about the fundamental idea that Beyoncé – one of the greatest performers of all-time – has been snubbed and unsuccessful in receiving her well-deserved Grammy. If you mean to tell me this has absolutely nothing to do with race, you are sadly mistaken.

Some of the biggest talents in the music industry are people of color, and we keep losing to mediocre white Americans. No, 1989 is not better than – or even analogous to – To Pimp A Butterfly. So, how can we resolve this? How can we rise above when we are systemically already so below? As Beyonce's younger sister Solange has Tweeted, “create your own committees, build your own institutions, give your friends awards, award yourself, and be the gold you wanna hold my g’s” – and that’s all well and good, but that still does not endow true fairness to people of color that wish to simply be able to coexist in an equal society without having to work twice as hard as the white man.

That brings us to the query many have been imploring: what does she have to do to win? That is a good question, and I wish I knew. Adele herself has professed, “I felt like it was her time to win… my view is, kind of, what the f*** does she have to do to win Album of the Year?” At this point, it seems as though Queen B has done everything she possibly can do in her power, although you never know; after all, this is Sasha Fierce we’re talking about. But she has navigated in so many different directions throughout her musical career, so much so that she has even sacrificed her original sound, that there may be very little left to surprise us with, even for her.

This may come as kind of a shock – and bear with me on this – but over time, I have found myself feeling conflicted towards her artistry as a whole and therefore unable to continue to stan her. There is no doubt that Beyoncé’s sound has shifted tremendously throughout the years, which is understandable. But I still remember the days when pretty much all her albums consisted of primarily love songs or breakup songs, songs like: “Irreplaceable,” “Best Thing I Never Had,” and “Love On Top.” “Single Ladies,” “Run The World,” and “Flawless” were some of her first so-called “feminist” anthems, and they were fun, upbeat, catchy, but also lyrically and thematically problematic. The latter was released sometime around the sudden reemergence of feminism and intersectionality in modern-day society and a social media-crazed, Internet-obsessed world via Twitter and Tumblr, which up until this point Beyoncé had never really sung about, not until these concepts were reintroduced and once again popularized at least.

But it was not until perhaps “7/11” that she had fully arrived at her turning point and I had begun to think that she had completely sold out for a more mainstream sound for good. Then in early 2016, when the music video for Coldplay’s “Hymn for the Weekend” was released, I was infuriated (and still am) at the way she was donning my cultural clothing and literally posing as a Bollywood actress for no apparent reason, as the two collaborated by using to their advantage an entire culture through the backdrop of India while glorifying solely its aesthetically pleasing components with no regard to the fact that it is also a third-world country. As someone who hails from the Indian subcontinent, I personally felt offended, as did many other South Asians. (And for the record – no – just because she is Beyoncé does not mean she gets a free pass to appropriate a damn thing for the sake of her aesthetic.)

In fact, I was having a conversation with my friend about these very marketing tools of mainstream musicians just the other day. Katy Perry, who used to sing about cherry chapstick and teenage dreams, now allegedly sings about politics. Lady Gaga, who you may remember once expressing her desire to “take a ride on your disco stick” now operates through music as a medium to discuss issues such as LGBTQ rights and equality. Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for it. Of course, musicians are allowed to grow and evolve, but much of these changes are attributed to something of a much larger and grander plan, more importantly a strategically placed tactic merely geared to acquire more attention and a larger fan base, and unfortunately this applies to Beyoncé, who never really used to sing about social justice until it became “trendy” to do so and kept artists relevant.

I recall when Lemonade dropped, and initially I had refused to pay any mind to it or buy into the hype. I just felt that it was another strategy being implemented to garner a wider audience. And perhaps I was right about that, as we would argue in the upcoming weeks whether the rumors of the cheating allegations were true or just a publicity stunt. But perhaps that ability to stir debate and get the public going is often what actually deems a work itself good. So in spite of – or rather, because of – these factors, is she still worthy of the award? The answer is yes.

2016 needed a work like Lemonade, not just for being able to weigh in as an exposé about infidelity and marital struggles or for its impressive fusion of various genres, but for its celebration of blackness. Whether she is jumping on the bandwagon or not, Beyoncé addresses important concerns and hot topics such as racial hierarchy and social structures in America, the way minorities and particularly women are being treated in America, and she ultimately asserts that BLACK LIVES MATTER in a powerful and admirable manner. It is a culturally, socially and globally influential album that symbolizes unity and brings us yet another step closer to discovering ways to heal the racial divide and live cohesively in a fair and equal society.

Lemonade did deserve that award. Luckily enough, the woman who won instead is one who is genuinely gracious and conscious enough to acknowledge her privilege in the industry – which we witness in her acceptance speech – as a teary-eyed Adele declares, “I can’t possibly accept this award… and I’m very humbled and I’m very grateful… but my artist of my life is Beyoncé and this album to me – the Lemonade album – is just so monumental… and so well thought out and so beautiful and soul-baring…” She then goes on to tell her “… the way you make me and my friends feel – the way you make my black friends feel – is empowering and you make them stand up for themselves” during a truly heartfelt moment. So no, it is not necessarily Adele’s fault that she won. The public is fortunate enough to have two seemingly “woke” contenders, but for next year’s Grammy's, can we have a black artist like Beyoncé or Kendrick actually take home Album of the Year? It is time we put an end to this internalized discrimination and racial bias in our industries and institutions to prevent something as tragic as this from ever happening again.