How Beyoncé became my homegirl
And my skate night with the kinfolk of Black joy 🛼
Hiya family! Welcome to Black Joy Behind the Scenes 📽️, where every Sunday I’ll be giving y’all a glimpse beyond the journalism veil of my nationwide media brand Black Joy. My mission is to chronicle the different ways we as Black people continue the ancestral practice of cultivating liberatory joy in our lives. Today’s post spotlights one of our favorite songstresses: Beyoncé. But before I get into the buzzin’ of the BeyHive, consider becoming a subscriber if you’re not part of our community already!
Hearing the craftswomanship of the “Cowboy Carter” album intensified my calling to witness Beyoncé’s vocal athleticism and powerful performances in person at least once in my lifetime.
Months before she even hinted at a tour, I was already coordinating a whole plan in my head. There are many perks to living in Huntsville, Ala. The city is only an hour-and-a-half drive away from Nashville, which was one of the stops during Beyoncé’s Renaissance World Tour. Considering some of the country artists featured on Cowboy Carter live in Tennessee, including the legend Dolly Parton, I just knew for a fact she was coming to a stage near me, y’all.
When I found out the rodeo wasn’t coming to Nashville, I was only slightly disappointed. Beyoncé’s decision made me admire her even more. The country music capital of the world made her feel unwelcomed during the Country Music Awards in 2016. As a Southern gal herself, she was just following an unspoken rule we have in these parts: You don’t go where you’re not invited.
Sure, she could have showed up anyway. She’s Beyoncé: master of the element of surprise. And I love me a party crasher. When the CMA Awards went live in November 2024, I imagined Beyoncé interrupting the ceremony with her own mini-concert.
Hear me out and imagine this: the opening was going to be a big choir of Black country music artists, including the ones she didn’t feature on the album, belting beautifully “American Requiem.” Then that would transition into “Blackbird” with all the ladies she brought on for that song. That set then explodes into the liveliness of “Yaya” in honor of Tina Turner. The performance would end with Beyoncé exiting the stage to just the beginning part of “I’m That Girl” which repeats, “These motherf***ers ain’t stoppin’ me.” As those words vibrate through the building, a banner drops above the stage announcing the tour or, if she really wanted to get folks riled up, the album release date for Act III.
(Quick sidenote: This isn’t the first time I’ve imagined something like this. So Beyoncé, if you're reading this, let me join your creative team because I have multiple ideas in mind and know many Black creatives who can make stuff happen!)
But bringing the Cowboy Carter tour to Nashville would have required a lot of effort. Instead, she spent her energy creating a showstopping tour featuring the bond she has with her daughters. Why perform in front of haters when you have nothing to prove? The excellence of our Blackness isn’t a jester in a kingdom of whiteness. We are masterful storytellers whose power of presence exists no matter where we go. That’s what her actions have taught me.
Beyoncé: the homegirl of many
Beyoncé has always been that homegirl who dropped little nuggets of wisdom for me to chew on throughout my life. During my elementary school years as a shy and soft child, Destiny’s Child serenaded empowering affirmations through the airwaves:
✨All the women who independent, throw your hands up at me. All the honeys who making money, throw your hands up at me.
✨Thought that I would fail without you, but I'm on top. Thought it would be over by now, but it won't stop. Thought that I would self-destruct, but I'm still here. Even in my years to come, I'm still gon' be here.
Beyoncé’s solo career started when I was trying to find myself in middle school. This trend continued during my adult years. “Lemonade” illustrated how Black spirituality can empower us during our darkest hours. Beychella’s honoring of HBCU culture happened about a year after I started Black Joy.
The “Renaissance” album gifted me the dancefloor I needed after enduring some of the deepest heartbreaks of my life in 2020, including the death of my best friend. It was a time when I also felt myself evolving into a person who no longer wanted to be puppeteered by childhood traumas. The change caused some rifts in my most cherished relationships. I wasn’t sure if I could handle the intensity of the anxiety and there were times I acted out of character because I didn’t feel emotionally safe. But then I heard Beyoncé say in “Church Girls:” Nobody can judge me but me. I was born free. Through those words I learned my purpose isn’t to perform for anyone. Beyoncé produced the soundtrack of my soul’s journey. I’m sure she did that for many folks like me. She is a woman with many soul sisters after all. What was your first Beyoncé song and how did it influence you?
Alisa Smith has a vivid memory of the first time she saw Beyoncé.
She was a California girl, chilling in her living room with her sisters in 1998. Destiny’s Child’s “No, No, No” music video appeared on the TV, and she became enamored with the iconic girl group ever since. Growing up, she wanted to be Kelly Rowland because she had a darker complexion just like Smith. Transforming herself into a Destiny’s Child member is still a hobby for the 35-year-old mother of three.
“When I'm cleaning my house or in the shower, you can't tell me nothing. I am Beyoncé, OK?” Smith declared.
Smith’s children joined the Beyoncé fandom without her influence. Her youngest son adored the visuals of “Lemonade.” Her nine-year-old daughter, Zoë, took some of her first steps to the beat of “Formation.” Now, Alisa and Zoë Smith’s admiration for queen Bey and dedication to spreading kindness made them a viral duo on social media. Their video of Zoë Smith passing out handmade “Best Dressed” trophies received almost one million views collectively on Instagram and TikTok. Zoë Smith’s act of compassion earned her the title of “Lil Miss BeyHive.”
The Cowboy Carter tour gave Alisa Smith an opportunity to teach her daughter how compliments to Black women can combat colorism. Sewing their outfits for the concert helped her process grief following her mother’s death in December. All of these beautiful themes are woven into my story chatting with Alisa and Zoë Smith (Who is so precious! OMG!).
Something I didn’t get to mention in my reporting were the imprints of inspiration Beyoncé made throughout Alisa Smith’s life. She was in awe of the “Cowboy Carter” album, and mentioned a quote the celebrity said during an interview for her 2013 HBO documentary “Life is But a Dream:” People don’t make albums anymore. They just try to sell a bunch of little quick singles and they burn out and they put out a new one. People don’t listen to a body of work anymore.
The blending of musical styles, the infusion of Black history and the empowering anthems of Black womanhood in “Cowboy Carter” and “Renaissance” and “Lemonade” and “Beyoncé” and more are all examples of how the singer has forged her own path in the music industry on her terms. Through her legacy, she has given us a musical blueprint on finding liberation in our own lives – no matter what anyone says.
“No one's like her – like truly. The talent. The work ethic,” Alisa Smith declared. “She makes you do the research and learn. There’s so much deeper meaning to her songs instead of them just being a bop.”
The kinfolk of Black joy
I could have kept my tour plans. All I had to do was switch the destination to Atlanta, which is a three-hour trip from Huntsville. Adulting got in the way. My partner and I just purchased our first home together and I couldn’t make the numbers work in the budget.
Things worked out, though. Shortly after getting off the road from my rendezvous to Mississippi to meet Ryan Coogler and the rest of the “Sinners” cast, my best friend invited me to a Cowboy Carter-themed skating event at Orion Amphitheatre here in Huntsville. I’m smiling about how all of it came together now. In the song “Tyrant,” Dolly Parton tells Beyoncé, “Let’s strike a match and light up this juke joint.” And there I was just coming back from Clarksdale, Miss., the birthplace of the blues and home of many juke joints where legends are born.
My best friend and I glided across the concrete and reminisced about our skating rink days in the early 2000s. We joked about why we didn’t use that time to learn some fancy skating moves like everyone else. Guess we were too focused on creating good times together as teenagers who both were overcoming chaotic lives. It’s those moments when we became each other’s home.
During our time together, my eyes caught something extraordinary. Black professional skaters weaved around us, showing off their fancy footwork. A Black woman was grooving around the rink by herself, completely content in her own little world. A group of strangers line danced and laughed together as if they were part of a family reunion. Seeing these different moments commune with one another made me think of the juke joint scene in “Sinners,” when Sammie ripped through time and summoned African dancers, psychedelic rock artists and hip-hop dancers through his musical mastery.
Similar to that scene – and as Dolly commanded – we lit up the juke joint to the tune of someone who is the greatest performer and singer of our generation. Most of us were unknown to one another, just like Beyoncé doesn’t know me and is worlds away from me. But for that moment, we all swirled together in a carousel of culture and became kin through the expressions of our Black joy.
It made me think about legacies and why we should always consider the ways in which we are touching each other’s lives whether we know each other’s names or not.