Thoughts on Janet Jackson, Chrisette Michele, and How We Treat Black Women
Terrell Grice is becoming one of my favourite YouTube personalities. On his popular online show, “The Terrell Show,” he invites some of the most talented vocalists and musicians from around the world for libations, laughs, lively conversation. A key component of the show is the game “Song Association.” Terrell gives the artist a word, and they have eleven seconds to show their vocal skills by singing a song with the word prompt in the lyrics or title.
But beyond the music, “The Terrell Show” has become a space of grace. He and his team create an environment that is non-judgemental and non-confrontational. Guests on the show are not in the hot seat; they’re home. And this is no surprise as Terrell, himself, is unapologetically black, gay, and churchy—three things society often claims can’t live together harmoniously.
Very much on brand with his hospitality, Terrell invited someone to the show who could be seen as controversial. Her name is Chrisette Michele.
In 2016, Donald Trump was elected the 45th president of The United States of America. Many of his supporters were obviously elated with the results. But many Americans were heartbroken at what their country had seemingly become. On the campaign trail, Trump frequently promoted racist, misogynistic, and xenophobic rhetoric—much of which would become legacies of his presidency. Therefore, many celebrities who appeared in any way to co-sign his election may have found themselves on the fringes of their respective industries and fan bases.
On 15 January 2017, Billboard reported that gospel singer Travis Greene would perform at a Trump inauguration event. It was later reported by other outlets that R&B singer Chrisette Michele was set to perform with Greene.
They performed, as was reported. And the backlash was swift . . .
but seemingly only towards Chrisette Michele.
After this performance, Chrisette Michele was essentially cancelled by social media (Twitter in particular) and possibly persons in the music industry. Chrisette went radio silent and did not speak on the record extensively on the issue until this past week (five years later).
This takes us back to “The Terrell Show.” Terrell began the interview by addressing the elephant in the room. He honestly expressed his disappointment at the time (and the collective disappointment of many black people) with her decision to perform. He then opened the floor for Chrisette to share her perspective. She admitted that it was the wrong thing to do but that she would not trade the experience since she learned from it. It was refreshing to hear about her growth, but there was something more insightful that she shared.
Chrisette gracefully mentioned that it was intriguing how she received much backlash but was not the headline performer. Travis Greene was. And the song they performed together was a Travis Greene song, that later shot to the top of the charts. To this, Terrell pointedly asked, “Did you and Travis talk about this situation in the aftermath?” Chrisette quietly shook her head and said, “Did we talk? No.”
Immediately, I felt heartbroken. And if you are like me, you know that this is eerily (but unsurprisingly) similar to the “wardrobe malfunction” moment between Janet Jackson and Justin Timberlake at the Super Bowl Halftime Show in 2004.
For years, Janet Jackson, a black woman, was made to be the villain of this situation. She did an interview where she alone apologised for the incident. However, Justin Timberlake, a white man, was hardly criticised in the media. It was only until March 2021 that Timberlake apologised regarding the matter.
After the Super Bowl Halftime Show, Justin’s career continued to flourish. But, Janet’s career went momentarily quiet.
Likewise, after the inauguration event, Travis Greene’s career (as a singer and later on a pastor) flourished. But, Chrisette Michele’s career was decimated on social media and also went momentarily quiet.
While these famous instances are similar, it is far from uncommon in society. Unfortunately, it seems that black women often unnecessarily bear the blame in situations they may find themselves. And it doesn’t just happen in society. It also occurs in the Church.
How many times have we witnessed young women became pregnant out of wedlock and then were “sat down” from serving in the church while the child’s father continues to beat the drums?
How many times have we heard sermons saying that mothers shouldn’t cry out “Not my good child,” when their children get in trouble with the law? Yet, meanwhile, some men have failed to step up and mentor these very children?
How often have we experienced patriarchal mindsets in the Church that police women’s behaviour and bodies, only for some men within the church to secretly objectify and abuse these same parishioners?
In general, how many times have women been the innocent scapegoat of issues while the men carry on disgracefully in secret?
Simply put, when it comes to criticism and accountability, we don’t always keep that same energy when it comes to men.
In the Gospel of John, the religious scholars and Pharisees bring a woman (allegedly) caught in adultery to Jesus. They use her as a pawn to entrap Jesus. They say to Jesus, “Teacher, this woman was caught in the act of adultery. In the Law, Moses commanded us to stone such women. Now, what do you say?”
Jesus doesn’t even engage them but writes in the dirt. He then says to them, “Let any one of you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.” In response to this, the men walk away. Jesus, I believe with compassion, turns and rhetorically asks the woman where her accusers are. He goes on to say if they can’t condemn her, then neither will he. “Go your way, and from now on, do not sin again,” he says.
One pertinent thing to note about this story is that these men broke the law themselves while testing Jesus’ knowledge of it. The law also taught that if people were caught in adultery, both the woman and the man should be punished. Yet, we only see their interest in the woman.
A classic tale of the good ole boys club.
A classic tale of how we often treat women, particularly black women.
Why do we treat our women this way?
I suspect that we take them for granted—that many of them stay by our side in the good and bad.
I suspect that we have yet to shed the vestigial racist, colonial, and misogynoir ideologies.
I suspect that, as men, we may sometimes resent the strength and tenacity of women despite the oppression they face. We may feel that it calls into question our strength and security in our masculinity. These (and more) are considerations that I ponder and reckon with continually as a man in ministry.
However, no matter what narrative we propagate about black women (be it implicitly or explicitly), in God’s eyes, they are beloved.
We read how God takes on divine femininity in scripture.
Mary carried the saviour of the world within her womb.
Jesus had many women followers (despite men being the most named of his followers).
The most extended conversation Jesus has with anyone in the gospels is with the woman at the well (who incidentally is often portrayed today as a woman with “loose morals”).
And it was the women who went to the disciples and told them about the resurrected Christ.
In light of this, may we learn to honour the divine blessing of our women.
I am sure I missed some nuances in my thoughts. So, I want to direct you to some excellent black women theologians producing work at the intersection of faith, society, and culture. There is so much I could quote from them all. But, do yourself a favour and support these women’s work. You’ll thank me later.
Austin Channing Brown
Candice Marie Benbow
Rev. Wil Gafney
Dr. Nyasha Junior
Rev. Dr. Renita Weems
Rev. Dr. Kelly Brown Douglas