I know y'all saw that interview with Cam Newton and Dr. Bryant because it's all anybody is talking about right now. And wouldn't you just know, this is the perfect follow-up to our ongoing conversation about controlling narratives and misogynoir. If you missed the previous discussions, don't worry—you can catch up on the first essay here (it's about the Mammy stereotype and how that image has haunted Black women into the workplace) and the second here (where we unpacked the Jezebel and Sapphire tropes and introduced the concept of misogynoir).
The thesis statement of all these pieces can be perfectly summarized by Patricia Hills Collins:
“The controlling images of Black womanhood are designed to make racism, sexism, poverty, and other forms of social injustice appear to be natural, normal, and inevitable parts of everyday life. These hegemonic images provide powerful ideological justifications for intersecting oppressions of race, gender, sexuality, and class.”
Today, we talking about respectability politics and the audacity of men.
Caveat before we dive in for real — I do not hate Black men.
I love Black men. Specifically. Don’t do that thing where we change the topic because it makes us uncomfortable. Because, respectfully, that is textbook misogynoir, and I would hate for us to prove the point unintentionally.
Let’s get into it.
Dr. Bryant didn't mince words when she called both Cam Newton and Nick Cannon "low functioning" men. (I am sure the internet is going to take those two words and run with them, because what would we talk about if not what all the high value low functioning people are doing?) While these particular gentlemen have been quick to "be fruitful and multiply," like the Bible says, they have also thus far, lacked the commitment required to build stable, long-term family dynamics with the women they procreated with.1
Now, let's pause here. If a Black woman were in a similar position—multiple children by different partners without the presence of a stable, monogamous relationship—what would society call her? What would the internet call her? A “hoe”? A failed matriarch2 trying to hold a fractured home together despite the odds? A Welfare Queen? The double standard is glaring.
What struck me about Dr. Bryant's approach during these interviews was how she navigated the delicate dance of holding Cannon and Newton accountable while still cushioning her critique. When addressing Cam Newton, Dr. Bryant prefaced her comments by affirming that she believed he was a "good person." She had a similar approach with Nick Cannon. To some degree, this is par for the course in therapeutic conversations designed for deescalation. But in other ways, needing to coddle Black men in order to be heard as a Black woman is yet another tale as old as time.
Cam Newton and Nick Cannon's responses to Dr. Bryant's directness, despite its gentle nature, were telling. Both men exhibited a defensive and dismissive attitude, suggesting a reluctance to confront her arguments in good faith, much less confront their own shortcomings. Cam Newton's attempts to "one-up" Dr. Bryant and his insistence on using offensive language revealed (to me, but… I’m just a Black femme) a deep-seated insecurity and a need to assert his dominance. “Are you saying fuck-tionality??”3 Nick Cannon went as far as to say “Have I manipulated people in the past? Hell yeah, I’m a man”. “I could tell you everything you want in a man.” She told them both, gently but firmly, that they were living in dysfunction.
“You are used to dealing with women who fold for a jet, … and maybe a big penis. … We attract who we are. Not who we think we are.” - Dr. Bryant
Black men like Cam Newton and Nick Cannon, despite their faults, are often allowed complexity—they are seen as troubled or flawed, not inherently unworthy. But when it comes to Black women, particularly single mothers, the narrative is far less forgiving.
Why is it that Black women are so often forced to navigate these controlling images while Black men receive a more forgiving analysis of their actions?
The answer is respectability politics.
Respectability politics can be traced back to the late 19th and early 20th centuries, particularly in response to the heightened racial violence and discrimination of the post-Reconstruction era in the United States. As Black communities sought to rebuild and gain acceptance in an intensely segregated America, there emerged a push to adopt behaviors and appearances that could counteract the prevailing racist stereotypes.
Black leaders and activists, including those in the NAACP and the Southern Christian Leadership Conference (SCLC), often encouraged Black folx to present ourselves in a way that would counteract stereotypes of laziness, criminality, and moral deficiency. The aim was to project an image of respectability—through modest dress, articulate speech, and restrained behavior—that would garner sympathy from white Americans and build support for civil rights causes.
So what’s wrong with that?
Besides the fact that pandering to your oppressor don’t make you free?
Respectability politics has profoundly shaped the behavior of Black people, especially Black women, by reinforcing stereotypes like the “Mammy,” “Jezebel,” and “Sapphire.” These controlling images, as Patricia Hill Collins describes, are designed to uphold white supremacy by portraying Black women in ways that justify our oppression.4
We’ve been talking a lot about the images that control Black women, but there are images that control Black men too. Black men are frequently subjected to reduced to the "Black brute" or "thug" caricatures. These stereotypes frame Black masculinity in terms of aggression, hypersexuality, and a need for control, casting Black men as inherently violent or dangerous. This not only affects how society perceives Black men but also pressures them to perform masculinity in unhealthy ways…. like starting 5 or 6 different families and then telling a board licensed psychologist and therapist of 15 years that all a woman needs to be happy is a man with “strong hands” .
Dominant society tells Black men that they need to assert dominance, but their lived experience proves they must also protect their sense of self-worth from being constantly undermined by systemic racism.
“Respectability politics is a double-edged sword. While it may have provided some measure of protection against racial violence and discrimination, it also reinforced existing social hierarchies, often at the expense of Black women who did not fit into the narrow definitions of respectable womanhood” - Angela Davis, Women, Race, & Class, p. 202
Somewhere along the line, we drank the kool-aid.
That is to say, we have begun to internalize and embody these controlling narratives in our hearts and actions. That’s what respectability politics demands. That’s why I can’t be bothered. When the goal of a movement is to conform, you must kill that which you hold dear in order to reach your goal.
Remember in Black Panther when Killmonger killed his girlfriend, Klaue using the exact same stance cops used to take the life of Korryn Gaines and Breyonna Taylor? Yes. #MeToo.
Fuck respectability. Respectfully, of course.
Black men, despite their own victimization, can perpetuate violence against Black women, mistaking domination and control for strength. This internalized view of what it means to be a man is not just a personal failing but a political act that upholds white supremacist patriarchal values.” — bell hooks We Real Cool: Black Men and Masculinity. p. 89.
In modern times, respectability politics continues to manifest in various forms, including in digital spaces and on social media. These platforms have created new spaces for the circulation and consumption of harmful stereotypes and narratives, often prioritizing content that is sensational or emotionally charged. Influencers, “femininity coaches,” and “dating gurus” regurgitate the same oppressive ideas that Black women must present themselves in a certain way (read: like white women) to be deemed worthy of love and respect. Black men, for their part, must demand this presentation from us if they are to be deemed worthy of the same (read: like white men).
By internalizing these images of ourselves we can unconsciously or consciously perpetuate these dynamics. For example, we may seek relationships that conform to the “Mammy” ideal, expecting femme presenting partners to exhibit servitude and self-sacrifice, which mirrors our own internalized beliefs about what a “good” Black woman should be. Alternatively, we might dismiss or demean Black women who do not fit into these restrictive molds.
So, what’s the move?
It’s one thing to critique, but it’s another to offer solutions or pathways forward. Here’s where the discussion becomes hopeful:
Acknowledge and Challenge Internalized Beliefs: For the love of everything holy, please stop following relationship gurus who’s message boils down to parroting white supremacist ideologies onto us. Forget Kevin Samuels, Derrick Jackson, and the Fab, Fresh, and Fit team. Ignore Wife School, Charm School, and femininity coaching. Go to therapy. Read bell hooks. Self define.
Foster Open Dialogue: Conversations like the one between Cam Newton and Dr. Cheyenne Bryant are crucial, even when they’re uncomfortable. They provide an opportunity for introspection and growth. By engaging in open, honest dialogues, we can better understand each other’s experiences and work towards dismantling harmful stereotypes.
Bring back healing justice: Both individual and collective healing are essential to Black liberation. Healing Justice is a cornerstone of all our liberation movements, and we MUST get back to it. Addressing internalized controlling images involves more than just cognitive awareness; it requires emotional and psychological support. Creating spaces for mental health care, therapy, and emotional wellness can help individuals navigate and overcome the damaging effects of these stereotypes. Rather than perpetuating division through respectability politics, we must focus on collective empowerment and mutual respect.
This is soulwork.
Love y’all. Mean it.
Just for the sake of clarity, I must mention that Nick has 12 kids, and Cam has 8. Between them, they have created 9 of what Dr. Bryant termed "broken homes."
“The image of the Black matriarch serves a number of ideological purposes, all of which work to maintain Black women’s subordination. As a symbolic, powerful, and overly assertive woman, the matriarch allegedly emasculates her male partner and her children, thus leading to the social problems facing African American communities.” _ Patricia Hills Collins
He asked her this non ironically. More than once. It was honestly hard to watch.
The “Mammy” stereotype, for example, depicts Black women as nurturing and self-sacrificing, content in roles of servitude to white culture. In contrast, the “Jezebel” image hypersexualizes Black women, casting us as immoral and deviant. Both stereotypes, though seemingly contradictory, serve to dehumanize us and maintain our subordinate status in society.
i was just talking to a parma how i appreciate UGK international player anthem not as a model of perfect behavior but it shows , a rare thing, a process of maturing a differentiating oneself from friends ego may still be “low functioning/big pimpin”
as a hip hop artist what i’m thinking about is how “low functioning/high value” is sold to us/nighaz/consumers/young people- not just internet personas but so much entertainment models transactional interactions
even old rappers that have wives and children “know” that it’s not entertainment(that sells) to rap about those realities;
much less to entertain in a way that would make young people look up to them *because * they had settled down and put whatever immature behaviors they used to do in the past
i like how kendrick and his wife and family were in the “they not like us” video drawing that contrast between him and Drizzy, the weirdo playboy