Lory Saint-Fleur

Leave Black girls alone

Graphic Panos Michalakopoulos

Lory Saint-Fleur,
Local Journalism Initiative

The dangerous effects of adultification and hypersexualization on Black girls

At ten, puberty came knocking on my door like a hurricane, shaking up my world with its wild winds of change. 

I was developing at an alarming pace compared to others. It was made clear from the beginning that this new body I was entering was a distraction. 

This resulted in me being in constant battle with my body. 

I perceived it as a burden. As I looked around the locker room, I could not help but compare my body to the other girls, always feeling a step further. I never dared to think about wearing a tank top, or a tight T-shirt. 

By the time I got to high school, wearing an identical uniform, the difference was still striking. I had the mind of a teenager in a young woman’s body. On my journey to body neutrality and positivity, I have understood that my experience is the one of many young Black girls and women. 

The adultification bias of Black women and girls is entangled in the premature perception of them as adults. 

Adultification is a phenomenon in which Black girls are perceived as more mature than white girls. It robs young Black girls of their childhood, pushing them into a stage of their lives for which they are unprepared. 

In a study about Black childhood, a majority of the participants from diverse backgrounds perceived Black girls between the ages of five and 14 as more mature. 

Adultification leads to many disadvantages for these girls, such as mistreatment to missing simple experiences in finding their identity. This perception extends to viewing Black girls as needing less nurturing, protection because they’re seen as more independent.

Adult survey participants perceived Black girls as knowing more about adult topics, including sex, implying their inherent sexualization. 

This adultification of Black girls as sexualized beings contributes to their loss of innocence, affecting how they are treated in education and juvenile justice systems.

The sexual connotation often attributed to our bodies goes back to slavery. 

During slavery, Black women were stereotyped into categories: the sapphire, the jezebel, or the mammy. 

The sapphire is seen as brute, loud, and aggressive. In contrast, the mammy is nurturing, and selfless, with no sexual desire. Lastly, the jezebel is hypersexual, a seductress that will tempt and exploit men. The jezebel has created the perception of Black women being sexually promiscuous. 

This is not only dehumanizing but also hurtful. These stereotypes have had an exceptional impact on the perception of Black women today.

Hollywood has maintained the dehumanization of Black women by turning them into sexualized objects. A study on the media’s representation of Black women found that they are more likely to be depicted as partially or fully nude compared to white women, and they are twice as likely to be seen in revealing clothing on screen.

This continued cultural fetishization and hypersexualization of Black women further sexualizes Black girls in the process. This affects how Black girls are viewed and treated, contributing to their adultification.

I have experienced many instances of sexualization and adultification as a Black woman. I believe that the root of the problems lies in stereotypes being perpetuated. 

We need to criticize our school systems while holding our cultural institutions accountable for continually fetishizing Black women.

Black girls deserve a sheltered childhood.

This article originally appeared in Volume 44, Issue 13, published April 2, 2024.

Leave Black girls alone Read More »

Copied but never respected

Black hairstyles have been co-opted by the public. Graphic Myriam Ouazzani

Lory Saint-Fleur,
Local Journalism Initiative

The politics of Black aesthetic appropriation

Black culture has been built on ideals of resistance and liberation

Although the definition of Black culture differs around the globe, various elements such as braids and music remain at its core. 

These differences and similarities of Black culture around the globe can partly be attributed to the Atlantic slave trade and colonialism. Ethiopia is known as the only country in Africa not to have gone through colonization, as they defeated the Italians in 1895 at the Battle of Adwa. As for other countries in Africa and the Caribbean, conquest and suffering became the norm. Through nearly 400 years of slavery, more than 12 million men, women, and children were put on ships, many not surviving the treacherous journey.

Across the colonies such as the United States and the Caribbean, the sentiment for a revolution kept growing. The Haitian Revolution started in 1791 and lasted until 1804, Haiti became the first Black republic to gain independence against the French. This is an accomplishment, as multiple African countries only achieved liberation in the 20th century after prolonged struggles against colonial rule. 

Similarly, in the United States, the Black community’s suffering continued. Despite the Slavery Abolition Act of 1833 and the abolition of slavery in 1865, Black people in the US faced various new challenges. Jim Crow laws were instituted in 1877, keeping a clear separation between Black people and white people, keeping slavery ideologies alive and well—a reminder that racism doesn’t disappear overnight. 

This long history of constant oppression led to a movement of opposition around the world. In South Africa, the fight against apartheid—a racist system that divided the population—was only beginning. In the United States, from 1954 to 1968, the civil rights movement became a demand, a fight for social justice, to allow Black people to be treated fairly and with respect. 

This movement marked the way the Black identity was used and showcased, as it gave pride, power and agency to the Black community. The phrase Black is beautiful emerged in the 1960s, as African Americans truly began to embrace their identity.  The popularization of the Afro hairstyle reflected a new sentiment of freedom, as it also became a political statement. Activists such as Angela Davis and the Black Panther Party wore afros as a symbol of defiance. Just as the Afro became a symbol of liberation, for centuries Black hair has carried deep cultural and historical significance. Although braids and cornrows are mostly worn today as stylistic choices, it is theorized that slaves used them as tools to escape, with different patterns and bumps in braids delineating locations such as rivers.

Additionally, dreadlocks became a symbol of identity and spirituality. First used in a derogatory way, dreadlocks were perceived as dreadful, intimidating, and dirty. The Jamaican Rastafari movement used dreadlocks as a way of letting hair grow freely, following the conviction that life is sacred. Though afros, braids, and dreadlocks were deemed nappy and unkept by their white counterparts, for Black people, wearing their hair in its most natural form is synonymous with liberation. 

Black hair has continuously been policed and stigmatized, reinforcing systemic oppression. The policing of Black hair is rooted in respectability politics and hair-based discrimination. 

Respectability politics implies that social pressures have forced many Black people to adhere to Eurocentric beauty standards to be acceptable in social and professional settings. Hair-based discrimination has been weaponized in professional settings to avoid hiring Black workers. 

According to the 2023 CROWN Workplace Research Study, 66 per cent of Black women change their hair for a job interview, as Black hair is 2.5 times more likely to be perceived as unprofessional. Black women who wear their natural hair are also more likely to experience microaggressions. These repeated instances of discrimination have motivated the Black community to demand change by using politics in their favour.

The CROWN Act stands for Create a Respectful and Open World for Natural Hair. The legislative act was first created in 2019 by Holly J. Mitchell in California. The legislation declares that “race is inclusive of traits historically associated with race, including, but not limited to, hair texture and protective hairstyles.”

The act seeks to combat race-based hair discrimination, but legal protections alone cannot undo centuries of bias. True change requires a shift in societal perception; Black hair must be accepted in all of its forms.

Despite a long history of discrimination, Black hairstyles have been co-opted by the public. The same natural hairstyles that were deemed ugly, unfit, and unkept are now frequently used in mainstream fashion as tools of originality, or by everyday people to showcase a “swagger” far from one’s culture. In fashion shows such as the 2016 Marc Jacobs New York Fashion Week show, Black hairstyles such as locks are used on white women to make models look more “edgy” and “interesting”. For example, box braids and cornrows have been worn without proper accreditation to the Black community. Instances of cornrows being called “Kardashian braids,” showcase how dangerous white appropriation is and how by forgoing recognition there can be an erasure of culturally rich symbols. . 

Other Black aesthetics such as clothing and music have followed a similar trajectory. Streetwear fashion and hip-hop culture have been absorbed by white individuals, who use cultural markers for profits. The relationship between Black culture and fashion is complicated, as many fashion companies from Comme Des Garçon and Marc Jacobs have perpetuated a cycle of erasure by not giving proper recognition to Black culture.

Black people have led trends for decades, from long and intricate nails to hoop earrings.  Nails have always been a form of expression for Black women. In 1966, they were worn by the first African-American woman on the cover of Vogue, Donyale Luna.

In today’s technological landscape, this tendency has not changed. 

Multiple viral TikTok dance trends were created by Black creators. One such trend was the 2019 Renegade dance, created by Jalaiah Harmon but commodified by Charli D’Amelio. When elements of Black culture are commodified without proper recognition, it perpetuates a cycle of erasure.

As we dig into Black history and culture, it becomes clear that the problem is about who wears these styles, not the styles themselves. It seems like it was never about the hair or the saggy pants, but about who was wearing it. 
 

This article originally appeared in Volume 45, Issue 9, published February 11, 2025.

Copied but never respected Read More »

Social media fuels the activism fire

Graphic Myriam Ouazzani

Lory Saint-Fleur,
Local Journalism Initiative

From the ‘60s to now, student activism has blossomed due to the active role of social media

Technology is power. Power is influence. Influence can change the world. The impact of social media on student protests can be seen through simple numbers.

I have never considered myself an activist. While I care about important topics and advocate for people’s rights, I have never felt like my voice had much power. I’m not an eloquent speaker. I can’t gather troops and march. I don’t have an overwhelming charisma that allows me to get everyone’s attention. Regardless, social media has allowed me to play a part by spreading information and amplifying diverse voices by simply posting on my Instagram story.

Student activism has played a significant part in numerous movements, as young adults fight to build a better future for themselves and the next generation’s future. Throughout history, many turning points can be directly linked to the consistent efforts of student activists.

During the American civil rights movement, the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee advocated for Black rights by organizing non-violent protests such as sit-ins and freedom rides. These actions put pressure on the American government, resulting in the Civil Rights Act of 1964. Nowadays, we see a similar pattern shaping the world.

In recent years, student activism has had a major impact on the fight against climate change. Greta Thunberg, a 23-year-old Swedish environmental activist, is at the forefront of the movement. The involvement of students in the movement has pressured governments worldwide to push initiatives such as the European Climate Law in 2021, in which countries legally commit member states to become climate-neutral by 2050. At Concordia, separating our waste into trash, recycling, and compost is one of the many initiatives toward a healthier planet, spearheaded by organizations like enuf Canada. 

The collective problem that all movements share is recruiting enough people to spread the word. Before social media, students would pass posters and flyers around their campus, organize meetings to inform people, and go door-to-door, which required a lot of manpower. In 2024, it can be a one-person operation. With the simple tap of your finger, information can be spread globally, and this has completely changed the game for student activism.

Roughly 250,000 people took part in the largest civil rights march in 1963. While we might see fewer people marching in the street in the 2000s, the online mobilization of millions continues to gain momentum. A similar movement, BLM, has been able to reunite 15 to 26 million people around the United States to diverse protests.

In October 2023, the Quebec government announced a hike in tuition for all out-of-province and international students attending English universities. Protests, teach-ins, strikes, and mobilization initiatives were rapidly shared on social media by the Arts and Science Federation of Associations (ASFA). Over a thousand students attended.

In the past six months, ASFA and other student associations, such as the Fine Arts Students Association, have continued to advocate for their cause through organized strikes. These strikes, lasting three to five days each, served as a means of amplifying their demands and putting pressure on the government to reconsider the tuition increases. Due to their social media presence, both of these associations have been able to unify hundreds of students in a short amount of time.

In the same pattern, student involvement in the pro-Palestine movement has been shared worldwide. From Columbia University in the USA to our neighbour McGill University, the popularization of encampments on university grounds has happened through TikTok and Instagram.

In contrast to the 1960s and even the early 2000s, social media has allowed me to speak on subjects close to my heart with greater ease and reach. This non-traditional means of activism permits people lacking a platform or audience to share their perspectives.

Social media has shifted from a personal diary to a source of power for a small audience to make changes. Social media is the new face of activism; it fuels ideas and creates legislation. Maybe I am an activist after all.

This article originally appeared in Volume 45, Issue 1, published September 3, 2024.

Social media fuels the activism fire Read More »

A night of filthy comedy with Troy Bond

Troy Bond’s comedy is not for the faint of heart. Photo Matthew Daldalian

Lory Saint-Fleur,
Local Journalism Initiative

Bond charmed Montreal with his wicked humour

On Feb. 6, comedy lovers braved the harsh winter weather and headed to see Troy Bond live at Montreal’s Fairmount Theatre.

Bond is a popular comedian from the United States, with over three million followers across platforms such as TikTok and Instagram. As Montrealers waited for Bond to take the stage, attendees had the chance to order a drink while chitchatting. 

Audience member Christy Verville had seen Bond before in New York and jumped at the chance to see him again.

“He’s really blunt and shocking, like his humour,” Verville said. “It’s entertaining.”

Montreal comedian Mike Carrozza opened the night with a good old fart joke that made the audience laugh from the get-go. As he jumped from one topic to the next—from a strong impression of a Quebecois speaking English to possible Ouija board errors—Carrozza firmly kept the attention of his crowd from beginning to end.

“I’m the warm-up guy, so obviously people are gonna be a little bit like, what am I doing?” Carrozza told The Link. “When you’re the first act, you have to get people used to making noise when they laugh, you know, remind them that you’re not in a living room, you signal to everybody in the room that you’re laughing.”

Carrozza was followed by Joey Rinaldi, a comedian and friend of Bond. His self-deprecating humour dove fearlessly into hardcore subjects including suicide and depression. While he did lose the audience at times, Rinaldi ended his set with a bang, setting the stage for Bond himself.

It quickly became obvious that Bond’s comedy is not for the faint of heart.

His humour is crude and crass, mixing elements of lived experience, audience interaction and, at times, political commentary. His ability to seamlessly move from one joke to another while incorporating information learned from the public captivated the crowd. 

Bond fed off his audience’s energy, improvising fresh jokes based on the attendees. His quick wit allowed him to take even the smallest audience reaction and weave it into his act, turning it into comedic gold. He effortlessly blended personal anecdotes with his sharp observations, making the audience laugh, relate and sometimes gasp in surprise at his unapologetic honesty.

Front row attendees Christopher Craig and his son, Finnegan Armstrong Craig, were proud to be the target of Bond’s various jokes, such as jokes about their sexuality and lifestyle.

“I got the front row tickets because [of] the stuff I watch about them. He’s always talking to people and it’s so funny,” the younger Craig said. “I wanted to be right up at the front to get the most out of that, ‘cause that’s really what I came for.”

Performing for over an hour, Bond also understood the importance of silence and letting the audience breathe to really take in the joke. He used this prowess for longer bits like The Micheal Jackson family gag, where he implied that violent parents create successful kids. His comedy was immersive and bold, engaging the audience in a way that kept the experience dynamic and unpredictable.

“The more I’m doing, the more committed to the bit I am or how absurd it is,” Bond said. “It looks like I’m going, ‘Look at me, look at me, look at me.’ What I’m really doing is, I’m going, ‘Stop looking at me. Laugh at the craziness of the bit.’”

A night of filthy comedy with Troy Bond Read More »

Scroll to Top