I don’t see black butch lesbians openly speaking up about the harms and falsehoods of transgenderism.
Most gender-critical black women I’ve seen are either femmes or straight women. I have seen white butch lesbians speaking up, but black butch women are disproportionately silent.
I have only known of one black butch woman who has publicly spoken up. Her name is Pippa Fleming, and I make sure to uplift her voice and work where I can, because she truly is an awesome Artist.
But for the most part, I see black masculine lesbians being brainwashed by the ideology, whether or not they change their identity.
Yet still, some of them remain unclear about what all of this is, or they might be crystal clear but they remain silent, or maybe they are one of the lucky ones who has been culturally insulated from gender ideology up until now.
I’ve been reflecting on this a great deal lately. On the one hand, it’s kind of disappointing because I do envision myself being in a relationship with a stud in the future…but on the other hand, I feel like I’m facing a lost generation.
My heart aches every time I see black lesbians wasting their talent, visibility, and resources on fluffy podcast conversations and shows that do not push any boundaries, but which are often still viewed as radical.
I think to myself…
“I’m not going to be compatible with someone who is just hiding under a rock, not thinking for herself until it’s trendy and “safe” for everyone wake up to reality.”
I need someone who is brave and free-thinking like me, someone who will proudly stand beside me in truth…and that goes for both romantic and platonic relationships.
I have been trying to release my own judgments and frustrations about why I don’t see black masculine women standing up for us and for themselves.
In doing so, I’m also trying to step back and look at the bigger picture to understand what they may be up against.
There are several factors that I think may be playing into the lack of input and visibility from black masculine lesbians in the gender-critical conversation.
I’d like to share my thoughts about that, mapping a pipeline from the degeneracy and breakdown of the community, to life circumstances which encourage silence, confusion, and complicity with the status quo.
I’d also like to share what unique factors positioned me to speak out, how I handle being one of the few in my community who is vocal about these issues, and the importance of releasing scarcity mentality around finding like-minded people.
First of all, I want to preface this by clarifying that for me, “stud” means a black masculine lesbian, and nothing more.
Over the years, many black women have begun to develop a stereotype about studs looking and behaving a specific way, and thus using that as a reason to distance themselves from the “ghetto culture” that it’s come to be associated with. Some preferably opt for the “inclusive” queer lingo of “masc” instead.
However, I still honor the original definition of stud being a synonym for a black masculine lesbian of any persuasion or type.
Studs are not a monolith.
Here are the main reasons why so few of them are openly critiquing transgenderism:
1. Marginalization and Toxic Stud Culture
Studs are a minority within a minority…within a minority.
In the media and everyday spaces where black women receive representation, masculine lesbians are not usually included. Additionally, most of the social spaces that are carved out for black women are designed to attract and speak to those of us who are feminine-presenting.
Mainstream American slogans such as Black Girl Magic are represented by feminine women. Most of the self-care and wellness culture that’s been created by and for black women caters to making us feel “pretty” and like “Queens” and Goddesses.
So while a stud will likely not be turned away at the door, it creates a situation where she may not feel like these spaces are designed to speak to her experience.
A stud will always boldly stand out in a room full of feminine-presenting women. She may also be treated differently, whether that’s due to false stereotypes, or the sexual tension that her presence creates in a room.
And this is just around fellow black women. The feeling of otherness may be also be heightened in spaces where she is a racial minority, and/or where she is the only woman in the room, or where she is simply the only gender nonconforming person.
Naturally, most studs want to form at least some solid community with other women who share their unique experience. In doing so they will often enmesh themselves into ready-made lesbian communities where it’s easy to find and befriend other studs. The issue at-hand is that stud culture is extremely toxic.
You want yoga? Hiking? Education? Resources? And exposure to other lesbians?
You can have it..as long as you share your pronouns at the door.
I’ve written about this in the past, but about 99% of public black sapphic gatherings include drugs and liquor as part of the main source of entertainment, along with music and women.
Wholesome, healthy, community-oriented spaces that speak to the black lesbian experience are extremely rare, and we do not have many solid mentors to look up to. With gender ideology taking over our cultures—both in the West and in Africa—these few spaces and positive examples are quickly dwindling.
This brings me to my next points…