If country music is one big happy family, Black women are its bastard daughters. The illegitimate children that will never be recognized. Despite being born of its flesh, carrying the songs and traditions of the nation’s past in its blood, Black women in country have been denied legitimacy by the industry they’re so firmly a part of. Perhaps it’s because there’s a fear that, if the country music industry did truly recognize Black women as the genre’s heirs—to write them down as the rightful descendants of a great American dynasty—it (and everything it stands for) would likely cease to exist.
This fear has been put on full display, as the Country Music Award (CMA) nominations were announced on September 8, and Beyoncè did not receive a CMA nomination for Cowboy Carter. The message is clear: If country music is the music of America, then everyone who is not straight, male, and white isn’t legitimate.
The album’s success tells a different story, of course. Since its release, Cowboy Carter has dominated music, fashion, and politics. Beyoncé made history as the first Black woman to top Billboard’s Hot Country Songs Chart. She is also the first Black woman “to have led Billboard’s Top Country Albums chart list.” Black women in country music, such as Mickey Guyton, received an increase in streams because of the album. Searches for “women’s cowboy boots” and Western-wear inspired clothing spiked around the time of the album’s release. Former First Lady Michelle Obama and Vice President Kamala Harris congratulated Beyoncé via social media about the album’s messaging.
It felt like a homecoming; for Beyoncé’s quest for legitimacy in country music has long been documented. In fact, the birthplace of Cowboy Carter is speculated to have been at the CMAs in 2016, where Beyoncé alluded to her mistreatment at the awards ceremony during her performance of “Daddy Lessons” with The Chicks. A CMA nomination, therefore, could’ve signified a shift in country music’s family dynamics that has historically tormented the industry.
Read More: Beyoncé Has Always Been Country
Country music operates on a hierarchy composed of race, gender, and class. And the problem is only made worse when—in the face of backlash or critique—country artists, executives, and insiders say the genre is one, big, happy family. A close knit community who protects and cherishes one another. An example of traditional American values.
It’s the same big happy family who cuddled up to Ronald Reagan when he described country music as “one of only a very few forms that we can claim as purely American.” Reagan, in turn, welcomed the genre’s biggest stars to the White House in 1983, to appeal to a burgeoning section of America, who felt defeated by the social movements of the 1960s and 1970s.
But is it one big happy family and “purely American” if the genre’s top earners and gate keepers are predominantly white and male? When, like Reaganomics, the power in country music continues to trickle down? Similarly to the result of those economic policies, inequality within country music has increased, and those with limited access to power and capital in the industry feel the brunt of it. The social contract of the country music industry is rooted in the maintenance of de-facto segregation, a new age “separate but equal.” It enjoys Black sound on white performers, but does not give Black country musicians the support and resources needed to have a sustainable career, without adhering to the contract. Jim Crow never left America; he just went country.
So, what are Black women in country music supposed to do? Who will advocate for Tanner Adell, Brittney Spencer, Tiera Kennedy and Reyna Roberts—the Black women featured on “Blackbiird,” Beyoncé’s cover of Paul McCartney’s ode to the Little Rock Nine? Will change yet again be brought by the countless Black women in the country music industry, who have expressed their disappointments of the industry’s inability to change, before, during, and after the release of Cowboy Carter?
Their disappointment is just and rightful. Because what type of man looks his daughter in the eyes, only to deny her birthright.
In spite of this, there is time for celebration and joy. The War and Treaty, a husband and wife duo, received a nomination for Vocal Duo of The Year at the CMA Awards. We are also less than one month away from GRAMMY Awards Nominations. Cowboy Carter may have its day in the sun there.
Even still, it’s interesting—if a little bittersweet— to imagine what a Cowboy Carter CMA nomination would’ve looked like for Beyoncé and country music as a whole. In that reality, would Beyoncé have succeeded in her quest of legitimacy? Would a nomination have granted her a seat at the table? With that seat, would she have saved an extra for the Black women after her— and so on and so on? For Tanner Adell, for Brittney Spencer, for Tiera Kennedy and for Reyna Roberts. For the legacy of Linda Martell. Maybe.
But maybe it also doesn’t matter anymore. Because whether country music grants them legitimacy or not, Black women will continue on without it. Because it is the job of the children to liberate themselves from their parents’ identity, in favor of crafting their own.
Black women do not need to seek validation from the institutions that dehumanize them. But instead, grant themselves legitimacy on the basis of their humanity.