Dear Reader
Two major things happened this week—in my sphere of interest, at least—and they both involve women who run the world. One in the global iconic pop-star sense of the phrase; the other, a literal Olympic champion runner. The former wrote a song about it, the other uses her whip-fast feet to speak of her accomplishments. Both are history-making mothers who have galvanized fans across the world.
On Wednesday, I traveled to Philadelphia to go see Beyoncé fly across a stadium on a diamond horse as thousands of pieces of glitter rained down on her. It was the opening of the U.S. leg of her Renaissance tour, and I was invited by a dear friend to take part in the festivities. It’s taken me a while to find my feet as a new mom, and this was to be my first night away from the babe since she was born. It was the perfect occasion! I was utterly and absolutely wrapped up in the excitement of two-and-a-half hours of thrilling costume changes, epic set design and jaw-dropping choreography that I only texted my husband six or seven times during the show. (Just kidding, it couldn’t have been more than five texts!)
What I loved most about the show, though, for all its opulence and spectacle, was the small moments in between all the big ones that gave me goosebumps. That first instant when you catch a glimpse of Bey, as regal as she is, in the flesh, on the stage in front of you, in a striking black number, right before her image is beamed onto the large screen behind her. When she sings the line ‘supernatural love up in the air’ into the camera as it hovers high above her face. Even when Blue Ivy came out for her guest cameo dance—I’d read about it on the European leg of her tour and wasn’t quite sure how I felt about the 11-year-old being on stage—it left me a little teary-eyed for the pure pride and exuberance it elicited.
But those big moments—gosh, were they giant! Photos and videos don’t do justice to the magnificence of the set design, impeccable lighting and the intricately-constructed videos that seemed to reach out and bring the audience even closer into Beyoncé’s realm, exalting her form and essence. Solidified by impassioned choreography that honored ballroom culture and allowed her dancers to shine, it was all so outstanding. A flying horse seems like the only truly fitting way to end the show (while also nodding to the cover of the album responsible for this year’s tour) since Beyoncé continues to soar.
The woman at the center of the other momentous event this week, however, has had her wings clipped for the past few years. 800-meter Gold medallist Caster Semenya hasn’t been able to participate in her speciality for the past four years, barred from competing in track and field lest she suppress her natural testosterone through surgery or medication. This week, the European Court of Human Rights ruled that she had been discriminated against, and her human rights violated.
While the ruling is in her favour, the court didn’t strike down the regulations (it isn’t able to) and no clear path currently exists for the 32-year-old runner’s return to the track. In the comedown of Beyoncé’s concert, I thought of Caster, who happens to be a fellow South African, and all the other women athletes who’ve had their bodies policed, who aren’t able to revel in their talent. A few years ago, around the time of the IAAF’s ruling, I wrote about how Caster has been a motivating force for many women around the world. Despite being in a completely different arena of play than Beyoncé, she has upheld the ethos the Grammy-winning singer espoused with the release of Renaissance, “to feel as unique, strong, and sexy as you are,” all while challenging traditional notions of femininity. Sometimes she does this through social media, but most of the time it’s just through her very existence. Yet she has been denied the prime years of her athletic life, and the longer this draws out, the more unlikely it is she will ever get to fulfill her full potential. Her eyes had been set on breaking the longest-standing track world record, the women's 800m from 1983.
Before it’s not too late in her career, I hope Caster Semenya gets to fly around the track again, soon, and stun us with her ability to confidently dazzle. In the meantime, her own legal battles with athletic governing officials are set to lay a precedent for the future of women in the sport. You could say they won’t break [her] soul. But it’s more like they’ll never take her power.
Thank you for reading!
Your neighbour,
Nadia