b*tches 'n hoes
On The Jezebel, The Sapphire, and Misogynoir
Hello, Friend.
This essay is the the second installment in an accidental series that began with "corporate mammy" and has evolved into an exploration of the controlling images and caricatures designed to oppress Black women and femmes. In today’s post, we will delve into the Sapphire and Jezebel caricatures—two of the most pernicious stereotypes—examining their impact on Black womanhood through the lens of Western media. Drawing from the work of Patricia Hill Collins, Moya Bailey, Audre Lorde, and others, we’ll unpack how these images weren’t just born out of thin air—they were designed to oppress.
It is important to note, that for every harmful stereotype about Black womanhood, there’s a corresponding one aimed at Black men. This is all part of a bigger picture of how media and culture work to maintain control over the minds, bodies, and souls of Black folx.
When I was 9, I gave a school presentation on my dream to become a marine biologist and discover Atlantis. During my project, someone yelled out, “Bitches ain’t shit but hoes and tricks!” and even though the Dr. Dre song they were quoting was almost a decade old even then, the cruel taunt echoed through the halls and cafeteria for weeks. This incident revealed something profound: Right there. At 9 years old, my peers and I had already internalized the controlling images of Black women and girls that had seeped into our media. Here we were, prepubescent babes, already steeped in misogynoir.
Misogynoir, a term coined by Moya Bailey, captures a unique form of misogyny that specifically targets Black women. Unlike general misogyny or racism, misogynoir exists at the intersection of both, combining the two into a corrosive force that pathologizes Black women in popular culture and everyday life. It is a lens that not only highlights the gendered oppression Black women face but also how this oppression is compounded by our race. Misogynoir frames Black woman and girlhood as inherently problematic—perceived as both too much and not enough, too loud, too angry, too sexual, and yet, somehow, simultaneously undesirable. This form of prejudice is deeply embedded in Western society, influencing everything from workplace dynamics to podcast personalities, where it continues to shape and distort public perceptions of Black women.1
Black women being depicted as "bitches and hoes" is not new. In fact, it is a tale as old as time. These grotesque caricatures have many names: "Slut," "Angry," "Video Vixen," "Aggressive." Each of these is a moniker for two prevalent narratives rooted in white supremacy: the Jezebel and the Sapphire.
Hoes are just Jezebels in a trenchcoat.
The Jezebel stereotype depicts Black women as naturally promiscuous and sexually insatiable — a stark contrast to the purity and modesty often ascribed to white women. The Jezebel caricature perpetuates the idea that Black women are inherently lascivious2, using our sexuality to manipulate men and gain power. The construction of the Jezebel stereotype was strategic—it provided a convenient justification for the widespread sexual exploitation and abuse of enslaved Black women by white men.3
Even after the abolition of slavery, the Jezebel stereotype persisted, evolving but never disappearing. Through the Jim Crow era and into the 20th century, Black women continued to be depicted as sexually available and morally deficient in popular culture. This was evident in everything from derogatory postcards to crude caricatures found on everyday items like ashtrays and swizzle sticks.
The Jezebel trope forces Black women to walk the tightrope between the dual pressures of the "pathetic other" and "exotic other" in media portrayals. The "pathetic other" is often depicted as unattractive, uncivilized, or burdened with personal flaws that render them pitiable rather than relatable. These characters are often presented as comic relief, their flaws exaggerated for the amusement of the audience.
On the other hand, the "exotic other" is portrayed as physically appealing yet culturally inferior—an object of sexual curiosity but never of genuine respect or humanity. Exotic others are often hypersexualized and objectified, their intelligence and agency marginalized. These conflicting portrayals create a paradox that Black women must navigate: we are simultaneously hyper-visible and invisible, fetishized for our bodies but dismissed in terms of our humanity and intellect.
..& Sapphire’s are B*tches by another name.
The Sapphire Caricature depicts Black women as rude, loud, and malicious, often characterized by exaggerated anger and hostility. Popularized in media as the “Angry Black Woman”, this stereotype presents Black women as overly aggressive and abusive, especially toward Black men, whom they mock and berate. This portrayal serves as a social control mechanism, punishing Black women who deviate from societal expectations of passivity and subservience. This reductive labeling diminishes our multifaceted personalities and the legitimacy of our emotions.
"Women of Color in America have grown up within a symphony of anger, at being silenced, at being unchosen, at knowing that when we survive, it is in spite of a world that takes for granted our lack of humanness, and which hates our very existence outside of its service." - Audre Lorde
Historically, the Sapphire stereotype evolved from earlier portrayals of Black women as "Sassy Mammies," who were permitted to display feistiness within the confines of a subservient role. The term "Sapphire" became widely recognized through the Amos 'n' Andy radio and television shows, which depicted Black women as domineering and emasculating figures4.
In television, characters like Pam from Martin or Mo'Nique's portrayal in The Parkers exemplify these stereotypes. Often depicted as sassy, loud, and perpetually single, these characters reinforce the idea that Black women are inherently aggressive and undesirable.
Characters like Miranda Bailey from Grey's Anatomy or Annalise Keating from How to Get Away with Murder are portrayed as formidable and resilient, yet they often face criticism within the narrative for being too aggressive or uncompromising. These characters embody the Sapphire trope by having their strength and determination framed as problematic, rather than celebrated as leadership qualities.
Moreover, the Sapphire stereotype affects real-life Black women in the public eye. Even in the portrayal of strong and accomplished Black women, like Serena Williams, and Michelle Obama, there is often a societal impulse to diminish their success by branding them as "angry" or "too aggressive," reflecting the persistent influence of misogynoir in public discourse.
“Self actualization is hardly possible at all for women in our society…if a woman’s needs are not recognized, and she is forced to seek identity and self esteem only to sexual fulfillment, motherhood, and the possession of material things.” - Betty Friedan, 1863
It’s clear that these controlling images—Jezebel, Sapphire, and their modern-day iterations—are not mere relics of the past; they continue to shape and distort how Black women and femmes are perceived and treated today. From schoolyards to social media, these harmful stereotypes are perpetuated to justify violence, discrimination, and erasure.
Do not believe them.
My Mother Grand used to always say, “it ain’t what they call you. It’s what you answer to.”
Stay woke.
Love yall. Mean it.
Because I am going to keep it a stack with you… every single dating guru, podcast bro, and femininity coach in the game is just regurgitating the tentpoles of misogynoir and calling it new shit.
This is the purpose of most stereotypes. To control and contort our feelings about our bodies and agency for the purpose of allowing violence, abuse, and human rights atrocities. Stay woke.
Created by white actors and featuring racial caricatures, these shows popularized harmful stereotypes, presenting Black people as comical rather than as complex individuals. Despite its eventual removal due to civil rights activism, the show's influence perpetuated damaging racial images and reinforced stereotypes.