Timothy Anne Burnside has been curating the National Museum of African American History & Culture’s hip-hop exhibit since the museum opened over 2 years ago, but the fact that Burnside is a white woman was news to many people until one seemingly innocuous tweet was posted that erupted into something more within hours.
@DJChubbESwagg tweeted, “THERE IS A WHITE WOMAN CURATING THE HIP HOP PART OF THE NMAAHC SMITHSONIAN?!?!?!?!?!?!? WHO LET THIS SHIT HAPPEN!?!?!”
Swagg’s tweet sparked a conversation on who should be curating black spaces, and why couldn’t the museum find a black person to run the exhibit. Many of Burnside’s celebrity and Internet “famous” Black friends came to her defense, and even garnered a lot of side eyes from social media as they seemingly berated Swagg, a black man, in defense of a white woman. Some of the comments ranged from “How dare he question an ally’s work” to “Well maybe no black people applied for the job?”
It was definitely ironic to see those questions come from certain Black “influencers” and activists who made a name for themselves shouting to the rafters about Black people being excluded from certain spaces, who seemingly put on their Superman cape to protect the good name of a white woman, who happened to be their friend. What was even more interesting is that Burnside said nothing in her defense on Twitter, but did give several heart emojis to tweets from people defending her.
Many people who attacked Swagg failed to understand the fact that black people are commonly excluded from the art and museum world, and even if Burnside is an ally, maybe there’s a time for an ally to step aside and offer an opportunity to a black person. The only semblance of a balanced view of the situation came from Jamilah Lemieux, who wrote about the privileges that white women are afforded in hip-hop and other spaces, and maybe just because someone is your friend, it always isn’t a good look to jump down the throat of a fellow black person to defend them:
I was trying not to say anything because I rock with everyone involved (well, not that man with the suit vest, lol), but this has been one of the most uncomfortable things I have ever witnessed on this app. It’s worth thinking about what can/must be learned from it.
— 2/2 Milahs (@JamilahLemieux) September 22, 2018
I adore Timothy, I admire her work and I’ve seen her make space for Black folk, de-center herself, etc. I worked w her on coverage when I was an editor and she was a great help to us. And not on the “she got my name on a list” way folks are suggesting abt “Blue Checks.”
HOWEVER
— 2/2 Milahs (@JamilahLemieux) September 22, 2018
1) Ain’t no way in hell I can sit here and say I wouldn’t have had a identical reaction to Chubb’s if I didn’t know Tim, and if I didn’t feel comfortable saying it publicly (I usually do!), I def would have been in a group chat going off.
— 2/2 Milahs (@JamilahLemieux) September 22, 2018
2) My respect and fondness for Tim doesn’t negate the reality that hip-hop has been welcoming to white women way that makes my skin crawl, and even if I love some of these women, it comes knowing that they get access and opportunities that young Black kids (esp girls+ LGBT) don’t
— 2/2 Milahs (@JamilahLemieux) September 22, 2018
3) And that special access occurs in most any other space. White women can get in any and all doors. We have but a few. Of course it’s gonna feel like a robbery when someone else gets the rare role that seems designed for us.
— 2/2 Milahs (@JamilahLemieux) September 22, 2018
4) And while “its the Smithsonian, not some Black indie shit” is a legit argument”…white women get a whole lot of space in Black indie space too. And especially hip-hop ones, as they are controlled by the sort of Black men who confuse that with progress.
— 2/2 Milahs (@JamilahLemieux) September 22, 2018
5) That said, I hate seeing Timothy being made fun of because she’s a dope person who loves and respects our culture. She’s someone who does look out for young Black folks who want to do what she does and treats our spaces as sacred.
Again…HOWEVER:
— 2/2 Milahs (@JamilahLemieux) September 22, 2018
6) To love and serve Black people, as a leader, an ally or whomever else, requires you to learn to recognize our tenderest points and our deepest wounds, to work to avoid doing additional harm to them and to react accordingly when those sore places have been touched.
— 2/2 Milahs (@JamilahLemieux) September 22, 2018
7) White women are quite literally a sore spot for Black people. You can tell the majority of our history of abuse in this country via narratives about our horrid experiences with white women.
One thing remains consistent: white women rarely go undefended.
— 2/2 Milahs (@JamilahLemieux) September 22, 2018
Part of that is because we, as Westerners, are trained to recognize them as perpetually frail and innocent. That doesn’t mean every example of caping for one comes from that place of internalized white supremacy, but to folks outside, the visual is often gonna be nothing but.
— 2/2 Milahs (@JamilahLemieux) September 22, 2018
When Black folks love, we love hard as hell. Most of the ones who went up for Timothy go just as hard, if not harder, for Black people. But the optics of defending someone from a reasonable line of question are…not good. Even if it came from a loving place.
— 2/2 Milahs (@JamilahLemieux) September 22, 2018
Caping for a white woman may be one of the most triggering things you can do to a group of Black people who are perpetually impacted by the lack of care that most white women have for our lives.
So what do you do when your friend is being dissed and you want to help? Well…
— 2/2 Milahs (@JamilahLemieux) September 22, 2018
Weigh the situation. Is your friend’s reputation, career or safety on the line? If not, it may be wise to say nothing, or to engage the person directly. Bridges aren’t built on the timeline, that typically takes a DM.
— 2/2 Milahs (@JamilahLemieux) September 22, 2018
As hurt as Timothy may have been, I’d imagine she’d understand why that question was raised and hopefully, why there’s no reason to do anything but hear those concerns and respect them.
— 2/2 Milahs (@JamilahLemieux) September 22, 2018
I love my white friends. I’ll ride for them if they need it. But that’s not typically gonna happen when Black people’s pain over a lack of inclusion leads to questions about the space that they have the privilege to enter.
— 2/2 Milahs (@JamilahLemieux) September 22, 2018
And I didn’t need Chubb’s question to be perfectly articulated/rooted in a grand knowledge of museum hierarchy to understand exactly how and why he feels as he does.
— 2/2 Milahs (@JamilahLemieux) September 22, 2018
And operating in the spirit of Black uplift while in the public space means thinking about the bigger picture—you can run afoul of your own heart and your own work by not thinking about the optics. We gotta talk more offline, seriously.
— 2/2 Milahs (@JamilahLemieux) September 22, 2018
“Should I ride for someone” and “CAN I ride for someone” are two different questions and I think we often go for the wrong one. Sometimes, you literally cannot do anything but additional harm by riding. Be supportive in other ways.
— 2/2 Milahs (@JamilahLemieux) September 22, 2018
The conversation went on for over two days, and not to finger point specific people involved, but a couple who seemed to gang up on Swagg, did issue public apologies to him.
On Tuesday, the museum issued a statement of their own, noting that there are other black people working behind the scenes with Burnside:
“The African American story is the quintessential American story. And in our museum, it is a story told, preserved and appreciated by people from different backgrounds. Our museum is one of the most diverse and inclusive in the world.
The museum is shaped and led by a leadership team that is largely African American — and the staff is firmly grounded in African American history and committed to the mission of the museum. We value that diversity and also recognize the importance of diversity of thought, perspectives and opinions. It has helped make the museum what it is today.
Out of a deep commitment, Ms. Timothy Anne Burnside launched the Smithsonian’s first hip-hop collecting initiative 12 years ago while at the National Museum of American History. Since joining the Museum in 2009, she has also played a key role in building the hip-hop collection as part of a larger curatorial team. Dr. Dwandalyn Reece, the curator of music and performing arts, leads that effort. We are proud of their work.
As a museum dedicated to telling the American story, through an African American lens, we recognize the lack of diversity in the museum field. Many of our staff worked on the front lines for decades to open doors for African Americans and people of color. Founding director Lonnie G. Bunch III and deputy director Kinshasha Holman Conwill have stood at the forefront of this discussion.”
That statement did not sit well with a lot of people, and once again, some expressed their issues on Twitter, and said the statement was a “non-statement”.
“You recognize the lack of diversity in museum senior management but still didn’t hire an African American to curate Hip & Hop a artform we created? Shame on you and your empty words and promises,” @Cherry_LA tweeted.
As with most discussions that unfold on Twitter, this debate will probably happen again in about another two years, when someone else happens to discover that Burnside is a white woman. But that’s one of the wonders of social media, regardless of how late you are to a conversation, it doesn’t diminish the fact that the conversation needed to be had.
