Posts Tagged ‘black masculinity’

Dancehall Daggerings’ Patriarchy

May 16, 2016

dancehall

Several years ago for Trinidad Junction, I blogged a kind of weaving introspection about daggering, dancehall and sexuality, where among other things, I attempted then to lay bare the ways I saw how:

So many young men see their dancing skills as representative of their virility. This being representative of their skill, an extension of their sexual self even. Thus they think it’s really cute to pick up a girl and ram her like a human jackhammer in a circle of people.

If you’re a female in or near that kind of dance circle, prepare to have your body swamped and owned. And you’d better be malleable like the dough of a pretzel. The sexual aggro of dancehall dejays’ lyrics today and their accompanying dances are at an all time high. I’ve heard many people I know say with regard to this issue, that dancing cannot possibly get any dirtier. . . . What connections if any, can be drawn from young men who choose to wipe the floor with a female back for their dancing/pseudo sexual pleasure or those who think it’s cool to do so? What messages does this send to young women?

The blog quoted is dated and some of my frames for certain aspects of dancehall dancing and sexuality have widened, some have shrunk imperceptibly, some have morphed into other things. There was some exaggeration too, because evidently, dancehall DJs sexual aggro then couldn’t possibly be worse than it is now. And in hindsight, it didn’t really peak back then at all with “Ramping Shop”, now did it? But what does that mean for where we are now?

For discussion purposes, daggering is a singular dance move that also contains multitudes; and here I’ll use that term to involve a range of transition movements not limited to rhythmic pelvic thrusting on a batty, but inclusive of all of the other imposing moves used by male dancers leading up to, around and alongside the actual daggering: so picking up a woman and throwing her in the air before swinging her around, for example, counts, even though technically, this may be considered a precursor to a dagger and not actual daggering itself. Forcibly bending her over to receive daggering also counts.

Even if a woman is at a dance and dancing, the assumption cannot be made by all dancing men that her body is open to all manner of wrangling; her body can still resist if she chooses to, and she should be allowed to extricate herself  from any dancing scenario she does not enjoy. Mobay Marvin and crew’s viral video of them groping on and assaulting a party goer to force her to receive daggering and be on display for their benefit really reminded me of how it seems we have come full circle with some of my earlier questions. The sexual and physical violence of this clip and the near feeding-frenzy vibe of the male dancers’ insistence that she participates in their sport is very disturbing.

The extent of the violence enacted upon this fat, dark-skinned black woman’s body can be connected to representations of fat black women’s bodies in West Indian music culture. She is almost always used as a trope to test a man’s mettle in both soca and dancehall. There are countless examples of this taking place on stages even when women explicitly volunteer to participate in the dancing. This is somewhat different from Saucy Wow choosing and deciding after trying, that no, a man cannot handle her bumcee. Still, the idea persists culturally, that “a rolly polly” or a big fat bottom must be conquered and handled. When the large bottom vanquishes the man, the joke is on the fact that he couldn’t manage what he should be able to.

I am not saying that daggering is uniquely, inherently misogynistic or problematic, to be quite clear, but it’s absolutely functioning as an arm of patriarchal expression and has been for quite some time now. I think we can say that male dancehall dancers’ societal, personal and cultural constructs of masculinity, sex, gender, strength and ownership are imbued within and communicated through their dance moves: the ways they grab, violate, take claim of and presume access to female bodies. Every time we see the ante getting upped in some new clip, it’s just more of the same old, perhaps only in slightly different ways.

I regularly watch and subscribe to several Jamaican video entertainment brands on YouTube. There are young women in dance crews whose acrobatic feats of winery, head top balances, splits and reception of daggering are worthy of slow-claps and all the awards. There are women giving the men permission to frenetically pummel their pum pum to the beat. There are women who want to bruk off some cock and can puppy tail at a serious pace, and they do so quite well. Nothing is wrong with any of that. It’s a skill set like any other and West Indian party culture, again, by itself, divorced from context, is not some entirely awful expressive space as far as I am concerned.

The issue with daggering on display, specifically, and not just people wining or women choosing to get dagger, is the way it hinges upon decimation of female bodies through movement, or at least, it has come to a point where that is a large component of the male dancer’s exhibition of competence for the cameras. The male dancer’s perceived prowess, in fact, is directly proportional to the subjugation of dancing women’s bodies; and there is an undercurrent of female debasement in some daggering that is very troubling and at the same time, nothing new. The spectacle of dancehall daggering involves the actual or pantomime of climb or some other physical feat (and this might be across a woman’s back or speaker box for launching onto a woman); speed of thrusts; bravado of movement; surrender of the woman on her back or some other position (but most often on her back); if the woman attempts to leave, she is prevented from doing so; humiliation: extensions and wigs removed, or by physicality through bullying strength and not giving a woman the space to brace or situate herself the best way she can to participate fully in the dancing; and in the above mentioned video, covering her head with a bucket.

She is a prop against which the male dancers’ bodies are thrown and her concerns, needs and safety become irrelevant. Which isn’t too surprising a leap if you consider the culture of gender in the West Indies. Oftentimes, I know Jamaicans stereotypically get a bad rap for regional macho identity, but really, we all have to deal with it and we are all touched by the reach of its violence.

 

Photo credit: Acrobatic dance in Negril, Jamaica, by Pietro Carlino via Tumblr. Used under a creative commons license.

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The Wine That Almost Broke the Internet

December 7, 2014

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I wouldn’t claim to be the biggest Bobby Shmurda fan out to be quite honest, but what I am a fan of is wining on a whole, and men wining. Always, always a fan of that for a range of reasons. Bobby Shmurda’s West Indian background has already been acknowledged, so I’m not surprised to see he can pelt some waist. Gwan Bobby. It’s always fascinating too how the masculinity enacted and projected in “Hot Nigga” (and even the dancing in there) seems interpreted as mutually exclusive with the dancing seen above. A lot of online commentary showed just how uncomfortable and displaced some folks are with reconciling the rapper of “Hot Nigga” with hip rolling. There was plenty of flabbergastation, shock, disgust, and head shaking to go around.

Meh. His wining is the least of my concerns.

Good Wining: Dancing and Cultural Identity

November 9, 2014

“She had no timing; she was East Indian.” * 

The truth is good wining is really subjective. One person’s perceived expert daggering is another person’s “leave me alone nah.” I always like to think that I can tell where people are from — by their wining. In Caribbean parties, when a groin stealthily presses against me, fusing its oscillations into mine, sometimes I’ll dance back and afterwards, whirl around to guess triumphantly, “You’re Jamaican, aren’t you?” Sometimes I am wrong, but I am usually correct. I can tell a Trini wine too. Boy, can I tell a Trini wine. We fit like puzzle pieces riding a soca rhythm that we both know intimately. Let me restate that, a good Trini wine.

There are good wines and bad wines and across cultures, we can find different wining styles. Vincentians don’t wine like Trinbagonians or exactly like Bajans. None of this is inherently better or worse. It all depends. I like to lead and set the pace. I hate to be juggling with a dancing partner over leading a wine. Sometimes, our rhythms don’t match up. Sometimes people are off beat. And a hot mess. Sometimes, it’s all Mean Girls-esque like, “You can’t wine with us.”

So, how do we end up deciding what “good” wining looks like? It’s not so much that the video lead can’t wine in Olatunji’s recent “Wining Good” video, but when her wining then gets filtered through the peculiar lens of race and culture, some interesting things start revealing themselves. Judging by youtubers, there is plenty of that occurring with recurring echoes of this Indian girl can’t wine good forming a significant portion of the criticisms of the video. Inside of Trinidad and Tobago, cultural anxieties about race and nationality get well wrung out and tellingly signified inside of soca and calypso. Olatunji himself, is part of a rich lineage of black and Afro-descendant Trinbagonian men singing about wooing, seducing, loving, and or paying homage to a certain East Indian woman.

As I’ve noted elsewhere, wining often symbolizes sexual ownership and alternately or concurrently, sexual agency — the question of whether wining itself, is inherently, primarily, sexual, is another issue altogether. I think it can be whatever you want it to be. The exact same movement can constitute a polite wine you might deliver once then hustle off and extract yourself from it. It can mean nothing. Or it can mean something. The same movement can also be incredibly sensual when both parties want to take it there.

Before Olatunji, there was Mighty Sparrow’s “sexy Marajhin“, Shurwayne’s “East Indian beauty” in “Don’t Stop“; Scrunter’s “Indian gyul beating bass pan coming up in Despers“; Preacher’s “Dulahin“; Moses Charles’ “Indrani“; Machel Montano (with Drupatee) in “Indian Gyul“; and of course, curry songs like Xtatik’s “Tayee Ayee” and Mighty Trini’s classics about “Indian obeah” or the curry and the woman who packed up and left him. I would also classify Second Imij’s enduring “Golo” as firmly within this trope too, where the golo, “this Indian beti living Caroni”, takes a firm hold of poor Uncle’s sensibilities under some questionable means. Or, we could just say that Uncle went quite tootoolbay over his Indian woman.

Conversely, Indian artistes very rarely sing about or employ Afro-descendant amours in soca, chutney or calypso. Black and African descent female soca women sing about Indian men far less than the men sing about Indian women. Denise “Saucy Wow” Belfon’s “Indian Man” and Destra’s “Come Beta” are notable exceptions. Drupatee Ramgoonai burst onto the soca scene significantly claiming her space in a male and Afro descendant space. Drupatee could not  have done so singing about how well a black man wined, I imagine. Absolutely could not. When Rikki Jai enters the soca arena, fittingly, the mango of his eye is a lovely Indian girl named “Sumintra” whose Indianness, in fact, is strongly mitigated by telling Rikki “I am a Trinbagonian” and “hol’ de Lata Mangeshkar, gimme soca.” She exists in song in sharp contrast to widely held local ideas of Indian nationalism.

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Roll It Boy: On Men, Masculinity and Bringing the Winery

December 10, 2011

There are few things I love more than men wining in wanton abandonment. Maybe good food and a select range of other things excite me more. I love men wining because of the ways in which it disturbs the mask of heterosexual masculinity. It flexes, disrupts and discombobulates with a swivel of the bamsee — most of all, it makes a lot of people, men and women, uncomfortable. I’ve contemplated before how masculinity is sometimes performed inside soca and the ways in which wining is coded inside the performativity of the stage persona (or perceived actual persona) of some male soca artists.

As a Trinbagonian from a wide ranging Caribbean & West Indian background reaching into Guyana and even further up the archipelago, seeing men dance completely unhinged is nothing new to me. Luckily, among some of the young men I know, seeing men wine down the place and bend over in front of a woman is also nothing scandalous to me and though I love to see it myself personally, I understand that it’s still a revolutionary upending of masculinity in some ways. Consider for instance, this video of Congolese singer (and newly crowned wining-god by me) Fally Ipupa’s stage performance with his band and dancers:

Predictably, under the video comments, there is one lamenting “why will a guy dance like a women [sic]” in addition to “this shit is SO gay…omg!!” The sexism and homophobia of these two comments underscore the power and meaning of the hetero (and/or assumed hetero) men who dance employing their hips, refusing to be constrained by context and widespread socio-cultural policing of acceptable vs. non-acceptable expressions of hegemonic masculinity.

What I really appreciate in this performance is the way in which the men’s gyrations seem to be performed fully, unapologetically with gusto by men, almost as a means to its own end — there are no women backup dancers bouncing around with them, and there are no women even seen in the audience within the camera’s range and this centers the men’s sexually suggestive hip movements in a uniquely singular way that I rarely see some black men do anymore.

Across the diaspora, men are allowed to be sexually suggestive in dance within reason and are even allowed to make people uncomfortable, within reason — so “daggering” might make some people uncomfortable but it’s an acceptable form of male sexually suggestive dance. R&B singers can slow wine at certain select moments, usually involving a lap dance on stage and a woman pulled from the audience or something of that nature. Wining, and men wining without women as props — not quite as acceptable.

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speaking of masculinity…

July 28, 2010

When I’m semi-lost in DC, looking for the right bus (a city that I don’t even know) while trying to do some sightseeing, I really don’t need a random man to say, “dang, it’s not that serious! Smile!” in a growling command like he’s more vex at me that anything else, a pitch that almost makes me jump out my skin ’cause I’m busy trying to sort out where the heck I am and most certainly, not smile.

Before that,  a bus driver told me I must have an attitude because I wasn’t a bundle of perkiness and presumably, coy smiles, when I boarded (and I could see him giving me The Eye). He assumed that I was one of  those females with my “defenses up”. On the bus! Yeah, it wasn’t even that serious. I just don’t do perkiness. That’s not me. So I humor him and once he heard my accent, I ended up hearing a tirade about ‘Trini women’ and how we are ‘trouble’ though ‘beautiful’—apparently he is allegedly familiar with “us” in some capacity. Cause all of us are all the same. (Then, he switched off his shift and passed me his number as he left. I kid thee not).

And anyway, who the hell commands someone to smile?

Why?

I was instantly triggered to think about Renina’s blog post where she talks about black women and street harrassment and this famous phenomenon:

From Friendly to Hostile to Bitch in 10 Seconds

Hey, why so serious, honey? Give us a little smile.” My sense of humor, he didn’t know, was temporarily out of service, so of course I didn’t give him a little smile. But in not smiling, I had again violated the code, provoking another seizure of silent suffering that became verbal. As I passed the sleeve on the street, it hissed a word at me, with the edge of anger to it, with a sharp rebuke in it: “Bitch.

This account describes a common pattern, in which the target’s failure to response results in escalation and a superficially friendly interaction is transformed into one that is transparently hostile.

So not feeling any of this. Not one bit.

Masculinity and Performativity in Soca music

August 2, 2008

Machel at the 2008 Best of the Best Concert. Great show!!!!

Most people seemed to be buzzing about the way in which 2008 saw the return of Bunji Garlin (Ian Alvarez) as one of the forerunners of the art form. Similar sentiments echoed off the lips of friends of mine and the general word on the street was that “The Fireman” is indeed back, fresh off the honeymoon phase of things, as he blazed a fiery path to Soca Monarch glory and a successful year this season.

Now, I’ve been paying attention to the thematic concerns running through many of Garlin’s more popularised hits this season and came to a conclusion. With my feminist sensibilities intact, all the while soaking in this glorious carnival season, I decided that his vocal points in verse, had as much to do with everything else. It’s not that Bunji Garlin ever “fell off” so to speak, don’t get me wrong, it’s Bunji we talking about and his talent has never really waned. What he has been able to do quite well this year I think, (outside of “Fiery”) is capitalise on embodying the voice of “The Man,” and he does that very well.

Female singers do this voice — for women, quite often as well. That’s why “ladies’ anthems” exist across many musical genres. I don’t know if as many “men’s anthems” exist but some of the males I know have tended to rally around a few popular premises in songs, from hip-hop to dancehall and soca. While I will not disagree with anyone who lauds Garlin as a modern day “chantwell” (as a Trinidad Express columnist recently did), because he truly is. Lyrically masterful as he is, Garlin exemplifies where soca meets a contemporary midnight robber, a Bard if you will, for this generation.

And though he has been cited as the “voice of the ghetto people,” never failing to big up and connect with the various experiences in the lives of the many people stretching across the socioeconomic landscape of Trinidad and Tobago, I would also add that the way in which he appeals to men, as a representative of a particular kind of Trini man masculinity on stage, also adds to his appeal. He is also then, “the voice of the Man.” The scope of West Indian masculinity and identity and how we came to “be so,” is a tricky road to navigate.

We live in a society formed on a backdrop of slavery and colonialisation. A society that is largely governed  by extreme heterocentric norms and Catholic-Christian doctrines; all these too, help to shape the way in which “masculinity” is acted out or performed. Unless of course, you are some kind of essentialist thinker, then we might all agree that masculinity (or what is perceived to be masculine at any rate) is to some extent, performed and learned behavior. (Shout-out to a brilliant Dr. Sara Crawley who first introduced the ideas of gender performativity to me in a class.)

Anyway, so too is “femininity.” Females, we too, do “femininity” and it is not necessarily something innate. When we joke that we will “be” feminine today or girly, we are tapping into this very notion. Masculinity then, becomes coded through a series of behaviors, attitudes etc. that I am not going to delve into deeply here. These attitudes are of course shaped by cultural norms and performers, like the rest of us, are products of these factors too. Of course, there may be many other variables at play as well. It is not enough to just be “ah man” or a Trini man for that matter. What matters most is the way in which one projects this identity and in the process, may or may not connect with a variety of people who identify with the same attitudes in the audience.

For example, we can compare Bunji Garlin’s performance of masculinity with, say, Machel Montano, and come up with some interesting comparisons. I also think that I need to point out that to what extent the element of mindful consciousness plays into artistes’ presentation of themselves is debatable. I don’t know if Bunji goes on stage thinking, “well, I is ah man — and this is how we do.” The audience though, drinks in the images and personas presented to us via the stage and other pop cultural outlets. Some with a more critical eye than others, admittedly so.

People do notice though and this is why there’s a reason that large numbers of men are fans of Bunji’s (and Machel) for different reasons. Furthermore, women are fans of them both for different reasons than men are. This year, Bunji Garlin had some hit songs that were immensely popular especially with all the men and young boys. All these songs epitomised a particular stance with regard to masculinity (again as perceived in our society) and a man’s perspective in a variety of ways. That’s a lot for one short season. Originality though, does give someone a lot of added leverage.

All of these songs connect to Trini men on many levels in many ways. They seemed to resonate and address specific manly concerns in the Trini man’s psyche, whether it’s about “getting horn” (re: “help”) or being chased by girls because of the size of your rims or the car that you own, the pleasures of drinking rum (on the Hunter remix),  or professing why he is “ah bad boy,” or by that token, simply “ah Trinidad boy.”

Machel Montano, likewise, represents a brand of Trini man masculinity on stage and his is markedly different. If Machel is the veritable sweet-man and “winer boy,” allowing the ladies “one more wine,” then Garlin is his foil, as the badman who is just posed off in the dance, chanting upon a mic. A Machel performance is imbued with a kind of sexuality, accentuated by a hard wine, which is what some ladies especially love (and even some men, I am sure). Ladies love Bunji too, but again, it’s different. Most significantly, men are their fans for different criteria as well.

A key notable point in stage performativity of masculinity is to look at who “wines” and who does not. Not everyone it seems, is comfortable with or interested in gyrating on stage. I am sure that Bunji “wines” and does — somewhere. But that is not a part of his stage repertoire. KMC is another soca artiste among others who doesn’t visibly wine. Apparently “bad men doh wine.” Well, I’ve learnt that men wining is not exactly as prevalent in all West Indian cultures. Now there’s also a difference between this and being wined on or wining on someone.

Take most Jamaican men I’ve encountered for example. You would be hard pressed to see one wining solitarily in unbridled exuberance anywhere. A Trini man — not so much, even more so with some Johnnie in his hands. Seeing as vast numbers of young men in the West Indies take their primary cue on masculine identity from dancehall culture and artists anyway, this is significant to keep in mind. Some West Indian cultures are tentative about the “wine” and what it means for their representation of masculinity in their particular environment. Some people are downright disturbed by it.

If you ever have the chance to watch a “real yardie man” take in a serious Machel performance, you will see what I mean (generally speaking). He will probably squirm as someone I know does and it’s always when Machel starts the oscillations. The discomfort may be quite evident. Otherwise take a “bad man” friend from Jamaica (if you have one), plop him next to you in a big Trini fete and gauge his reactions on the male winery. Many will quicker do the willy-bounce than gyrate their hips jus’ so.

Some of Bunji Garlin’s prominent themes this carnival season related to the male experience (this list is a sampling and by no means exhaustive!) :

1. wayward women who get pregnant by an outside man

2. promiscuous young women

3. women propelled by material gain

4. superficial women who run down man for their cars

5. women who will do anything to ride in that car

6. women who have compromised their morals for gain

7. the versatility of rum

8. a man must hold his liquor within reason though

8. being regarded as “mad” and moreso “bad”

10. professing his bad-man-ness.

Don’t think that pop culture, music and all these cultural factors have no part to play in how we all shape our world view because they do. They all play a huge role in informing people’s sensibilities about attitudes and what their identities should be.  Young men and young women are especially susceptible. That’s why young men and older ones the world over, clamored around Kanye West’s “Gold Digger” and still today, many young men frequently quote Bell, Biv, Devoe’s famous, “never trust a big butt and a smile.”

I worry though, about young boys deriving all their ideas from these outlets and thinking every female is either a Jezebel out to seduce and destroy him, is ready to drop and spread out and “hot wuk” at his command, use all his money and wants him just for what he may own, is out just to get what she can or that every female wants a “passa passa” move behind close doors. What about tenderness, consideration, reciprocity and understanding for example? Can’t these become facets of masculinity and manliness as well?

Of course these qualities are there sometimes, but male performers “doing masculinity” dare not show this. Real men hide that side of themselves supposedly. That’s why you will probably never hear of Bunji doing a passionate love song duet with his lovely Fay-Ann. This wouldn’t go with the image. When men push up their gun finger salute — it’s akin to an affirmation of masculinity, one that they all agree with and allows them them to say, “yeah, ah hear yuh — cause yuh talking about me.”

Related links, references, further reading and works cited.

Alvarez, Ian (with Hunter). “Bring It Remix.” VP Records: Soca Gold 2008, 2008. MP3 file.

–. “Bad and Famous.” Fiery, 2008. MP3 file.

–. “Beep Beep.” Fiery, 2008. MP3 file.

–. “Help.” Fiery, 2008. MP3 file.

–. “Pretty Hott.” Fiery, 2008. MP3 file.

–. “Bad So.” Fiery, 2008. MP3 file.

Connell, Bob. “Hegemonic Masculinity.” Gender: A Sociological Reader, New York: Routledge, 2002. Print.

Montano, Machel. “One More Time.” Book of Angels, 2007. MP3 file.

–. “WinerBoi.” Heavy Duty, 1997. Audio Recording.

West, Candace and Zimmerman, H. Don. “Doing Gender.” Gender: A Sociological Reader, New York: Routledge, 2002. Print.