Since the founding of the United States, the idea of meritocracy—the belief that anyone who works hard can achieve success, upward mobility, and the so-called American Dream—has been not just a myth, not just a sham, but one of the greatest lies and acts of gaslighting ever told. This illusion has been upheld by centuries of systemic propaganda espoused by every institution and facet of American society. Its most recent iteration comes via the anti-DEI crusade that has become the defining pillar of Trump’s second presidential term—launched just ten days ago at the time of this writing—should surprise no one. In this essay, I’ll use the 67th Annual Grammy Awards and Beyoncé’s nomination for Album of the Year (AOTY) for her seminal Cowboy Carter album as a lens to examine how chasing the ideal of Black excellence, seeking white validation, and measuring Black genius or success against a white supremacist system built by and for able-bodied white men is not only flawed but fundamentally futile.
Beyoncé’s Cowboy Carter hasn’t just sparked a conversation—it has ignited a debate unlike any other in Grammy history. The fact that this album, this artist, is being discussed in this way tells us everything we need to know about the ways Black genius is perpetually scrutinized, devalued, and discredited. Since its release in March 2024 Cowboy Carter has dominated not only the music industry for its genre-breaking but culture writ large with a bevy of podcasts, essays, and think-pieces created to dissect and critique the instant classic. No album—ever—has been analyzed with this level of intensity around whether it “deserves” to win AOTY. The discourse surrounding Cowboy Carter isn’t about whether it’s the best album in the AOTY category (which it is). Instead, the debate has been framed around Beyoncé herself—her legacy, her past work, and whether she should “finally” be given the award, as if she hasn’t already created multiple genre-defining, culture-shifting masterpieces. We’ve seen this before. We know how this goes. They will always move the goalpost.
The Rules Don’t Apply When You’re Black
This year’s conversation around Cowboy Carter has exposed an uncomfortable but familiar truth for Black people: excellence is never enough. The comparisons have been wild. Some music critics are calling Beyoncé the “Martin Scorsese of music,” arguing that her previous losses somehow justify yet another snub. But comparing her to Scorsese is a false equivalency. When he won for 2006’s The Departed, he was at the end of his career. Beyoncé is not. And Cowboy Carter isn’t some throwaway project—it is an opus, a meticulously crafted album that is objectively and subjectively the strongest in the AOTY category. So why does the conversation insist on comparing Cowboy Carter to Lemonade, Renaissance, or B’Day, instead of evaluating it against the albums it’s competing with? The answer is simple: the standard always shifts when Black people excel.
Even before the envelopes are opened, the narrative has already been written. If Beyoncé does win AOTY, it will be chalked up to DEI—a token victory, a “lifetime achievement award,” rather than a recognition of the actual work. Never mind that her album is the most innovative, expansive, and genre-bending of the nominees. The music industry—and white supremacy at large—has already prepared a script that diminishes the win before it even happens. And if she loses? Well, the machine just keeps rolling, reinforcing the idea that no matter how undeniable Black genius is, there will always be a reason why it wasn’t enough. This is exactly what happened to Kamala Harris just two months ago when, after eight weeks of campaigning, people claimed she hadn’t “earned” her place. It’s what happens to every Black person who dares to take up space in a system that was never designed for us to win.
The Trap of White Validation
Toni Morrison told us a long time ago that racism is a distraction. It forces Black people to constantly prove their worth, defend their genius, and justify their success in ways white people never have to. But the truth is, you cannot “excel” your way out of white supremacy. At this point, what’s the point of seeking validation from a system that will never see Black excellence for what it truly is? Black people do not need white approval. We do not need white-ld institutions to tell us we are brilliant. We do not need an AOTY trophy to affirm what we already know. Black creatives should create because they love creating. Because it fulfills them. Any other reason is futile.
I Won’t Be Watching Grammys 2025
When I first saw the Grammy nominations, I considered watching. I even thought about downloading Paramount+ just to see it live. But now? I refuse. I’ll check Twitter around 11:50 PM, maybe download the app for five minutes if she wins. Or I’ll just watch the clip online after the fact because it will be everywhere regardless. Beyoncé’s win—or loss—is the only reason people are watching. She said it best at the end of her 2016 song Formation:
“You know you that bitch when you cause all this conversation.”
AOTY win or not Beyoncé is “that bitch” and win or lose she will dominate the headlines.