I watch the BET Awards every year for several reasons. First, the musical tributes are always slammin', I can usually sing along to a few of the current performers' songs, and, I admit, someone always does, says or wears something ratchet and I want to laugh.
I was prepared for all of these things when I tuned in this past Sunday, instead I was treated to one of the most conscious, entertaining and inspiring BET Awards I've seen in a while (possibly ever).
In his Humanitarian of the Year award speech, Jesse Williams poignantly declared that just because we were magic, didn't mean we weren't real. This award show from its performers, to its speeches proved that not only are we magic, but we are very very real.
Let's recap some of the most real and magical moments from the BET Awards shall we? Disclaimer: There are definitely more, but these are some of my personal favorites.
Beyoncé marched, stomped and splashed for "Freedom" alongside Kendrick Lamar in her opening performance. Full disclosure: I am not, nor have I ever been a full out member of the Beyhive. I have told multiple people that I am more of a Jay Z fan than a Beyoncé fan. But if Bey does one more amazing performance I may have to just admit to having been stung. There was nothing about what she or Kendrick did that felt hollow or put on. I'm not sure what exactly Mrs. Carter is feeling, but I know that she is feeling something and what ever it is, it is deep, it is real, and I am here for every minute of it.
We saw a completely bare faced Alicia Keys become a one woman band as she sang "In Common." I couldn't take my eyes off of her the entire time she was performing because I couldn't wait to see what instrument she would start to play next -- and with no makeup. To be very honest, leaving my house to go to the grocery store without makeup is sometimes one of the most difficult decisions I make during the day. I'm not really interested in the people who attempt to problematize Alicia Keys by saying that she is privileged because she is "conventionally beautiful," and has the luxury of being able to get away with not wearing makeup. In a world where, from birth, little girls are conditioned to think that they need something on their face to be pretty, anyone who bucks that trend is a courageous queen and I will not take that away from Ms. Keys, at all.
The Prince tributes were everything. Janelle Monae slayed, assless pants and all and Jennifer Hudson took me back to church with her rendition of "Purple Rain." But it goes without saying that Sheila E. won the night. The legendary singer and percussionist had me misty-eyed as she played through her sadness to pay tribute to a man she truly loved. The final moment as she held Prince's guitar up to the glittering ceiling was easily more powerful than any song or statement could have been. After watching her give her all for a gloriously entertaining eight minutes, watching her simply hang her head in mourning for her fallen mentor and one time fiance was, I think, a grounding moment for viewers like me who sometimes lose sight of the feeling and intention behind musical performances.
The BET Awards proved that award shows can be political in more ways than who wins awards. Samuel L. Jackson in his Lifetime Achievement award speech encouraged attendees to vote and referenced Brexit saying, "Don't get tricked like they did in England." Jesse Williams, who I mentioned before, took both black and white America to task. He admonished the appropriators of our culture, who so often seek to polarize the otherness of our pop culture contributions, while edging us out in the process. But he also made people of color aware of their own responsibility to themselves saying, "All of us in here getting money, that alone isn't going to stop this ... Now, dedicating our lives -- dedicating our lives to getting money just to give it right back for someone's brand on our body when we spent centuries praying with brands on our body, now we pray to get paid for brands on our body."
For all the ire BET has incurred over the years for showing profanity-laced music videos filled with scantily clad women, this instance of accountability, of checking ourselves, while also still finding space to check others, spoke volumes.
There were so many more times throughout where the BET Awards gave us heavy dosages of magic and realness. From Tina Lawson admonishing the audience, in the wake of Prince's passing, to appreciate their musical greats while they still have them, to Usher's "Don't Trump America" jacket and even Bilal's rolling around on stage and simply living during his performance of "The Beautiful Ones," this year's awards were an example of black excellence, performance and vulnerability at its finest.
The show displayed us, flaws, blemishes, pain and all in a space we created to recognize the people who have excelled in a world that tries, time and time again, to push them down. Thank you BET.
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