Abstract
Researchers suggest that the Jezebel stereotype exerts a significant influence on Black women’s sexual decision making. The current qualitative study drew upon narrative data from individual, semistructured interviews with 50 Black women (ages 18-24 years) to explore how the Jezebel stereotype influenced their sexual beliefs and behaviors. Using consensual qualitative research methods, the following four themes emerged from the data: (a) how the Jezebel plays a role in their sexual exploration, (b) how the Jezebel contributes to sexual violence against Black women, (c) how the Jezebel is a hypersexual media representation of Black women’s sexuality, and (d) how the Jezebel is a negative sexual stereotype within family contexts. Our findings contextualize the enduring role of the Jezebel stereotype as a sexual script for Black women, as we found that many participants chose to adapt their clothing choices or sexual behaviors in light of their awareness and endorsement of the stereotype. The authors discuss the implications of study findings for Black women and girls’ sexual socialization and deconstructing deficit-based ideologies of Black women’s sexuality.
A growing body of work highlights how the intersectional nature of Black 1 women’s race and gender identities influences their experiences with sexualized stereotypes, such as the hypersexual, Jezebel (Brown et al., 2013; Brown Givens & Monahan, 2005; Collier et al., 2017; Townsend et al., 2010; Watson et al., 2012). The Jezebel refers to a race and gender stereotype that portrays Black women’s sexuality as deviant, describing their sexual appetites as “at best inappropriate, and at worse, insatiable” (Collins, 2002, p. 83). The Jezebel stereotype emerged during slavery in the United States to justify the pervasive sexual assault of enslaved Black women by White men (Collins, 2004; West, 1995, 2012), and the “jezebelian Black woman” imagery perpetuates the idea that Black women are more promiscuous and sexually aggressive compared with women from other racial groups (Stephens & Phillips, 2005). Researchers suggest that the Jezebel stereotype plays a significant role in Black women’s sexual decision making (Crooks et al., 2019); yet less of this work considers how the historical stereotype influences Black college women’s sexual beliefs and behaviors (Leath et al., 2021).
For instance, scholarship suggests that Black women are hypersexualized to a greater degree than White women (Anderson et al., 2018; Watson et al., 2012) and that this rampant hypersexualization has consequences for how Black women are perceived by others (i.e., less likely to be considered victims of sexual violence and more restrictions on reproductive rights; Masters et al., 2014). Researchers also highlight how mainstream media reinforces the Jezebel stereotype through hypersexual and objectifying depictions of Black women’s bodies and sexuality (Conrad et al., 2009; Ward et al., 2013). While this work contextualizes Black women’s sexual objectification in broader society, less research has considered the extent to which young Black women internalize or reject the Jezebel stereotype in relation to their sexual beliefs and behaviors (French, 2013; Froyum, 2010; Leath et al., 2021). Prior literature indicates that Jezebel stereotype endorsement relates to riskier sexual behaviors (Davis & Tucker-Brown, 2013) and internal justification of sexual violence among Black women (Cheeseborough et al., 2020); yet there are gaps in extant scholarship regarding how Black women perceive this sexual stereotype across the life course. In light of this gap, the current study drew on Black feminism in qualitative inquiry (Evans-Winters, 2019) to explore how predominantly heterosexual Black college women navigate the Jezebel stereotype in their daily lives and sexual and romantic relationships.
Black Feminist Theory and Controlling Images of Black Womanhood
Black feminist scholars have theorized about the controlling imagery of the Jezebel stereotype for decades (Collins, 2004; Lomax, 2018; Simms, 2001). This scholarship highlights how efforts to control Black women’s sexuality factor into Black women’s historical and contemporary oppression in U.S. society as a form of misogynoir (i.e., Black racist misogyny that Black women experience such as tone policing; Bailey & Trudy, 2018). Black feminist theory (BFT) centers Black women’s particular needs and experiences within the context of social injustice and challenges Black women’s subordination due to intersecting oppressions (i.e., racism, sexism, classism, homophobia, and transphobia) through individual and collective resistance (Collins, 2004). Furthermore, a main tenet of BFT is the dialogical relationship between Black women’s knowledge about their lived experiences and subsequent resistance to various forms of oppression. Black women’s social positioning outside of hegemonic femininity (i.e., gender expectations that emerged for White middle-class women in the mid-1800s; Settles et al., 2008) may allow them to develop sexual identities that counter societal prescriptions for women’s sexually passivity and inspire them to challenge racially oppressive sexual stereotypes (Chmielewski et al., 2020; Fasula et al., 2012). Thus, we drew on Black feminist perspectives to counter the marginalization of Black women’s voices in social science literature on sexual development (Evans-Winters, 2019). Rarely are Black women acknowledged for their understanding of how dominant cultural and sexual messaging are conflated with racist beliefs about the bodies and sexual behaviors of Black women (e.g., Crooks et al., 2019; Morgan, 2015; Stephens & Phillips, 2005). Qualitative research may help untangle the meaning of the Jezebel stereotype in Black college women’s lives and identify how the stereotype informs Black women’s sexual beliefs and behaviors.
An emerging body of literature suggests that Black women may not readily endorse the Jezebel stereotype (e.g., Crooks et al., 2019; Jerald et al., 2017). For example, Crooks et al. (2019) found that as participants aged, they rejected cultural narratives of Black women as hypersexual and became more aware of the Jezebel stereotype and its historical roots in slavery. Limited quantitative research suggests that Black women’s awareness of the Jezebel stereotype is associated with greater monitoring of their sexual behavior, which, in turn, is associated with less sexual agency and more sexual inhibition (Leath et al., 2021). Other evidence suggests that contrary to feeling threatened by the hypersexualized nature of the Jezebel stereotype, some young Black women may feel a sense of empowerment from images of other women embracing and expressing their sexuality (i.e., “WAP” and hot girl summer; Burton, 2019) and that sexualized media may promote feelings of sexual agency and control over their bodies (Halliday, 2017). In some research, women enjoyed being sexualized (Liss et al., 2011) and experienced a temporary increase in appearance-related self-esteem in response to self-objectification (Breines et al., 2008). These mixed findings demonstrate the need for more “self-defined” scholarship created by and with Black women regarding the importance of the Jezebel stereotype as a controlling image of Black female sexuality (Snider, 2018).
The Politics of Respectability and Black Women’s Sexual Expression
Racialized and gendered social norms shape the way Black women navigate romantic relationships and sexual expression (Brown et al., 2013; Fisher & Coleman, 2017; Jerald et al., 2017). For instance, according to Higginbotham’s (1993) politics of respectability, one way that Black people historically tried to gain respect from mainstream, White society included regulating the sexual behaviors of poor and working-class Black women (Lomax, 2018). The politics of respectability framework required Black women to refrain from presenting themselves in an overtly sexual manner to distance themselves from dominant cultural narratives that stigmatize their sexuality (i.e., Jezebel). The heteronormative messages that Black girls receive about sex from their parents may draw from the politics of respectability (Crooks et al., 2019; Froyum, 2010; Leath et al., 2020). Black mothers tend to act as the primary agents of sexual socialization for their daughters and may counsel their daughters to practice abstinence, actively discourage them from securing safe sex methods (e.g., birth control or condoms), or warn against participating in risky sexual behavior (Fasula et al., 2007; Townsend, 2008). Fathers are also important for Black female adolescents’ socialization about heterosexual romantic relationship norms, and evidence suggests that Black fathers encourage their daughters to refrain from presenting themselves as hypersexual or promiscuous in order to obtain and maintain successful romantic relationships (e.g., M. Johnson, 2013). Overall, this literature indicates that family socialization shapes how Black women understand their sexual beliefs and behaviors.
In addition, the sexual double standard of men and women’s sexual exploration may limit Black women’s sexual expression (Fasula et al., 2012). The sexual double standard refers to social stigma and shaming for women (but not men) who participate in sexual behaviors; within this “good girl/bad girl” dichotomy, women’s normative and deviant sexualities are based on male access and control over women’s sexuality (Endendijk et al., 2020). According to Fasula et al. (2012), Black women might not internalize the sexual double standard in the same way as White women due to the hypersexual Jezebel stereotype (i.e., already being positioned as “bad girls”). Black women could—in theory—exercise personal freedom and feel empowered to seek out sexual pleasure. However, findings from other studies indicated that Black women tended to distance themselves from the ‘‘bad girl’’ image to protect themselves from sexual exploitation and victimization (Vera et al., 1996). Scholars also suggest that Black women may limit their assertiveness in romantic relationships with Black men to allow men to control some aspects of relationships as their partners fall short of hegemonic masculinity ideals such as economic and professional prowess (e.g., Bowleg et al., 2004). Thus, the intersections between the Jezebel stereotype, respectability politics, and sexual double standards seem to promote attitudes and behaviors among Black women that encourage them to limit their sexual expression.
Contextualizing the Jezebel Stereotype and Gender-Based Violence Against Black Women
Rooted in the sexual politics of enslavement, the Jezebel stereotype continues to shape others’ evaluation and treatment of Black women (Anakaraonye et al., 2019; Davis & Tucker-Brown, 2013). Indeed, the Jezebel stereotype remains a prevalent image of Black women in mainstream media (Ward et al., 2013), which may inform Black women’s notions about sexual agency and the legitimacy of sexual objectification (Cheeseborough et al., 2020; Ward et al., 2019). For instance, one recent study found that mainstream media exposure related to endorsing more traditional gender roles, which, in turn, predicted decreased sexual assertiveness and more sexual inhibition among heterosexual Black women college students. Qualitative findings revealed that Black women were aware and highly critical of these hypersexualized depictions and expressed concern for how they might reflect on Black women as a group (Coleman et al., 2016; Muhammad & McArthur, 2015; Watson et al., 2012). These worries may be justified, as there are numerous negative implications of others’ consumption of media depictions that reinforce the Jezebel stereotype. For example, individuals primed with the Jezebel image through media were more likely to quickly associate Black female interviewees with stereotype-consistent adjectives (Brown Givens & Monahan, 2005; Monahan et al., 2005).
Scholars have also examined the associations between endorsement of the Jezebel stereotype and Black women’s sexual behaviors. For example, Jezebel stereotype endorsement is consistently associated with risky sexual behaviors such as sexual intercourse without a condom (Davis & Tucker-Brown, 2013; Duvall et al., 2013; Townsend et al., 2010). West (2012) speculated that the stereotype might encourage Black girls to engage in riskier sexual behaviors at a younger age, which may put them at greater risk for teen pregnancy and sexually transmitted diseases. Additionally, in a sample of younger and older Black women, young Black women reported higher levels of endorsement of the Jezebel stereotype than older Black women (55 years and older; Brown et al., 2013), indicating that young Black women may be particularly vulnerable to the negative influence of Jezebel stereotype endorsement. Studies also evidenced that endorsement of the Jezebel stereotype by Black women and men contributed to negative interpersonal interactions between Black women and men (Gillum, 2007), lower levels of relationship satisfaction (Fisher & Coleman, 2017), and more justification of violence against women (Cheeseborough et al., 2020). Taken together, these findings indicate that endorsement of the Jezebel stereotype is associated with poorer sexual outcomes for young Black women.
Finally, research suggests that when others believe that Black women are more sexual than women from other racial groups (i.e., hypersexuality), it can place them at greater risk for sexual harassment and sexual assault (Buchanan & Fitzgerald, 2008; Buchanan et al., 2008; Cheeseborough et al., 2020). The Jezebel stereotype functions to justify the “un-rapeability” of Black women by reinforcing racialized and gendered constructions of respectability, in which only certain women under certain circumstances, are perceived as “legitimate” victim-survivors of sexual violence (Helman, 2018; Lomax, 2018). For example, Willis (1992) varied the race of a rape victim in a hypothetical vignette. When the victim was a Black woman, participants rated the rape as being more acceptable. In another study using a hypothetical rape vignette where the race of the perpetrator and victim varied, participants assigned less blame to the perpetrator and more blame to the victim when the perpetrator was White and the victim was Black (George & Martínez, 2002).
More recently, Cheeseborough et al. (2020) found an interaction between sexual objectification experiences and Jezebel stereotype endorsement, such that Black women reported more justification of violence when they endorsed the Jezebel stereotype at higher levels and reported more frequent experiences of sexual objectification. Their findings suggest that historical stereotypes about Black women’s promiscuity may be used by others to justify sexual violence, and may contribute to less willingness from others to intervene when Black women and girls are the victims of sexual violence (Willingham, 2018). Prior studies also indicated that Black women experienced more incidents of sexual harassment compared with White women, perhaps due to their multiple minority status (Buchanan et al., 2008; Donovan, 2007; Kalof et al., 2001). For instance, Buchanan and Fitzgerald (2008) found that African American women reported more racial and sexual harassment at work compared with White women, which predicted lower supervisor satisfaction and greater perceived organizational tolerance of harassment. Thus, a growing body of literature suggests that Black women’s sexual objectification and harassment are not only delegitimized more often than women from other racial groups, but they are also viewed as culpable in their sexual objectification (George & Martínez, 2002; Watson et al., 2012). In all, extant literature suggests that the historical erasure of Black women’s experiences of sexual violence (Simms, 2001), as well as the enduring legacy of the Jezebel stereotype (Lomax, 2018), may leave some Black women with an overextended sense of responsibility to reduce personal harm in sexual encounters.
The Current Study
Extant literature provides a mixed picture of how the racialized sexual script informs Black women and girls’ sexual beliefs and behaviors; most show that Jezebel stereotype endorsement relates to less agentic sexual expression (Brown Givens & Monahan, 2005; Monahan et al., 2005), while others suggest that Black women may invert the negative connotations of the stereotype to embrace their desires (e.g., Halliday, 2017). We sought to extend past findings by explicitly considering how Black college women’s endorsement of the hypersexual Jezebel stereotype related to participants’ enactment and embodiment of their sexual interests and desires. We drew on Evans-Winters’s (2019) Black feminist approach to qualitative inquiry as a decolonizing theoretical and methodological tool to elucidate how Black women’s intersectional identities and interpretations of their lived experiences were informed by their cultural and sociopolitical landscapes. According to Evans-Winters (2019), “Black women’s ways of knowing, cultural and spiritual beliefs continue to be marginalized, suppressed, or bastardized. Conversations on data analysis in qualitative circles are still dominated and policed by those of the White, educated elite” (p. 2). This Black feminist qualitative approach allowed us to center our experiences as Black woman scholars to add richness and perspective in our interpretations of the women’s descriptions and cultural narratives.
Method
Participants
The current sample was drawn from a project aimed at investigating the socialization experiences of Black women through 50 one-on-one, semistructured interviews with Black college women (ages 18-24 years, Mage = 20 years, SD = 1.25) enrolled at one of two predominantly White U.S. universities. Twenty-one interviews (42%) were from women attending an institution in the Midwest, and 29 (58%) were from women attending an institution in the Southeast. Ethnically, 25 (50%) participants identified as African American and 22 (44%) identified as African (including women from Nigeria, Ghana, Sudan, Ethiopia, Liberia, Sierra Leone, and Cameroon), and three (6%) identified as biracial (Black and White, Black and Indigenous, Black and Filipina). Forty-six women were heterosexual and four women were lesbians or bisexual. The majority of participants (n = 32, 68%) reported middle-class backgrounds (median household income = $65,000-$80,000), identified as heterosexual (n = 46, 92%), and were Christian (n = 36, 72%). Eighteen (36%) were science, technology, engineering, or math majors, and 32 (64%) were from a range of other disciplinary backgrounds (e.g., Education, Women’s Studies, International Studies, Political Science, and Spanish). Finally, on a self-report checklist of Jezebel stereotype endorsement, 20 (40%) indicated that the Jezebel was “not relevant,” 18 (36%) reported that it was “somewhat relevant,” and 12 (24%) women indicated that it was “very relevant.” See Table 1 for additional demographic information.
Summary of Demographic Information by Jezebel Category.
Note: aQuoted in article. bIdentified as lesbian or bisexual—other women identified as heterosexual.
Procedures
The interview team at each institution consisted of the principal investigator (PI; lead author), as well as an additional African American/Black woman graduate student. The first additional interviewer was a Black woman from a lower income background, and the second interviewer was a first-generation Ghanaian immigrant raised primarily in the United States from a working-class background. Before the interviews, the PI discussed with both women about their prior experience with qualitative interviewing, and we set our intentions about the data collection process. It was important that we facilitated in-depth, informal conversations that involved an equal exchange between the interviewer and the participant. For example, we identified our racial/ethnic backgrounds or other social identities (e.g., social class or sexuality) during the interview process if it facilitated a connection with the interviewee (e.g., discussing our first-generation status or details of our own socialization experiences). Thus, the participants could ask questions about the interviewer deemed relevant or necessary to make the information exchange more bidirectional (Bhattacharya, 2017). We each felt comfortable engaging in this type of natural and authentic dialogue, and we convened after each interview to document major themes in the woman’s story and talk about how it went.
When we were ready to start recruitment, the PI sent weekly emails to Black student organizations at both institutions for 3 to 4 weeks until the target number of participants signed up for interviews. The recruitment e-mail included the goals of the study and contact information for the PI. Based on available funding, 21 interviews were successfully completed at the first institution, and the PI recruited additional women from the second institution to reach theoretical saturation (Saunders et al., 2018). Saturation was met after interviewing these additional 29 participants, resulting in a final sample of 50 women. Black women interested in participating replied to the e-mail to schedule a time to meet for the individual interview. We conducted the interviews in safe, public locations that allowed for private conversations (i.e., reserved conference room and PI office). Before starting the interview, the interviewer discussed the goals of the study and the participants completed an informed consent form, as well as a survey with demographic items. The audio-recorded interviews lasted between 45 and 90 minutes (mean = 75 minutes). The women received $20 for participation, and the PI assigned pseudonyms to all participant files. After the interviews were completed, the lead author sent the audio files out for professional transcription. The person who originally conducted the interview reviewed the transcript to ensure grammatical and semantic accuracy and the final versions were uploaded onto a secure data server.
Interview Protocol
The informal, semistructured interviews involved a guiding protocol with a list of questions that team members covered in each interview, as well as supplemental questions based on the direction of the conversation (Cohen & Crabtree, 2006). This approach allowed the research team to collect reliable, comparative interview data on the topics of interest, while also allowing interviewers to ask specific questions based on the flow of the conversation with individual participants. The interview protocol consisted of two main sections—the first section focused on race and gender socialization messages, and the second portion focused on their awareness of stereotypes in the media and its influence on their beliefs about Black womanhood. The protocol was pilot tested with a small group of Black women (n = 5) whose research focused on race and gender identity development and Black girlhood. Through a series of informal group discussions, the lead author developed questions to understand how race and gender socialization (in family, school, and media contexts) related to identity development. In relation to the current study, the interview protocol included questions on the relevance of the Jezebel stereotype. For each stereotype, interviewers asked, “I noticed that you indicated that you are familiar with the Jezebel stereotype. Can you describe how the Jezebel stereotype has been relevant to your beliefs about your Black woman identity?” and “What role do you think the Jezebel stereotype may play on the development of Black girls’ identities?”
Researcher Positionality Statement
Given that researchers’ social identities inform their methodological inquiry and knowledge production (e.g., Evans-Winters, 2019), we offer insight into the authors’ positionalities as scholars. The lead author, who was involved at every stage of the research process, is a Black, queer woman from a working-class background. She has conducted over 6 years of research on the identity development of Black girls and women. The second author is a Black American cisgender woman, whose research examines sociocultural factors that influence Black women’s gender beliefs and sexual well-being. She contributed to the writing and editing of the manuscript. The third author is a Black American cisgender woman whose research considers the effects of media consumption on sexual attitudes in Black women. She assisted with preliminary coding analysis and editing the manuscript. The fourth author is a cisgender Black American woman whose research and clinical practice center on Black women’s gendered racial identity and college student mental health. She participated in the development and writing of this manuscript. Overall, our individual and collective experiences and scholarly expertise lent unique insight into the cultural significance of Black college women’s sexual beliefs and behaviors; while the study was not comparative in nature, we also sought to highlight how Black women’s social realities are ontologically different from women in other racial groups (Evans-Winters, 2019, p. 57).
Coding Analysis Approach
The present study drew upon consensual qualitative research methods outlined by Hill (2012) to analyze the data. Consensual qualitative research involves inductive data analysis and team consensus on open-ended research questions, with the belief that multiple informed perspectives render a truer representation of participants’ meanings. We engaged in a variety of review processes to ensure that we highlighted the young Black women’s perspectives, including multiple primary coders and an external auditor. First, two researchers (Black women) read through the transcripts and highlighted statements (i.e., “chunks” of text) that addressed the research question: Can you describe how the Jezebel stereotype has been relevant to your beliefs about your Black woman identity? The coding pair did not include broader statements or reflections about participants’ sexual beliefs or behaviors unless they explicitly tied it to their views on the Jezebel stereotype. The lead author extracted all statements that responded to the Jezebel research question into an excel sheet that was organized by participants’ rating of the relevance of the stereotype (i.e., not relevant, somewhat relevant, or very relevant). The spreadsheets included five column headings: transcript number, research question, participant response, theme memos, and additional notes.
After compiling the excerpts, the lead author recruited two Black female undergraduate students who were familiar with the literature on Black feminist theory (i.e., controlling images; Collins, 2002) and qualitative analysis methods to serve on the coding team. The three coders reviewed all highlighted statements in the excel file independently and met as a group to identify preliminary coding categories based on themes arising in the data. Our coding dialogues involved broader discussions of the Jezebel stereotype and the sexualization of Black women. For example, our individual memos highlighted that several women discussed how the Jezebel stereotype came up in family settings, resulting in the code, “sexual socialization norms within family contexts.” Within our individual memos, we all noted that the Jezebel was considered a negative stereotype and that family members used it to warn the women away from “being fast.” Another example of how we arrived at our descriptive codes and definitions can be seen in the evolution of the two subthemes of the first theme, “Black Women’s Perceptions of how the Jezebel plays a role in their Sexual Exploration.” During one of our sessions, we realized that participants were talking about the Jezebel and their sexual exploration in distinct ways, so we reorganized the excel file into two subcategories: (a) women who described how they dressed modestly or restricted their sexual exploration out of concerns of being seen as a “Jezebel” and (b) women who understood the connotation of the stereotype but refused to feel limited in their sexual desires. After finalizing the domains in the excel file, the PI imported the codebook into Dedoose 8.0.35 (a qualitative software program; SocioCultural Research Consultants, 2018) for further analysis.
We then reviewed the set of transcripts again and assigned codes in Dedoose using the “blind coding” setting. To engage in ongoing reflexivity, we participated in a series of group dialogues about our biases and expectations before and during the coding process. These dialogues involved open communication about our own social and cultural identities and our understandings of the Jezebel stereotype as Black women (i.e., if and how our family members talked about sexual development and how these conversations overlapped with our religious socialization during adolescence as Christian Black girls). The lead author explicitly stated that the coding process should be an equitable group effort with input from all members and that dissenting opinions were welcome and integral to the research process. We met weekly to review 10 to 12 transcripts and discuss disagreements in the coding process. For each disagreement, we returned to the original interview data to reach a consensus. When the team could not reach a consensus, we included the highlighted statement in the “other” category to retain the data and reevaluate if we should create additional themes. Finally, the lead author met with an external auditor (a Black woman scholar who was not involved in the coding process) to review the coding themes and assigned excerpts. As a content expert on Black women’s sexual development, the auditor had working knowledge on the topic under study and provided critical commentary on the coding process. She provided feedback on whether the coding themes were well articulated and talked with the lead author on how the results section fit into the main goals of the project. In all, the current article follows the Standards for Reporting Qualitative Research guidelines (i.e., sampling strategy, data collection methods, coding analysis, techniques to enhance trustworthiness, interpretation of findings with linked empirical findings, and integration with prior work; O’Brien et al., 2014). See Table 2 to review themes and examples.
Summary of Jezebel Coding Themes.
Results
The present study used Black feminist theory as a form of qualitative inquiry (Evans-Winters, 2019) to explore Black college women’s endorsement of the Jezebel stereotype, with a focus on the extent to which the Jezebel stereotype played a role in participants’ sexual decision-making (Brown et al., 2013; Crooks et al., 2019). Thematic analyses revealed four themes regarding Black college women’s perceptions of the Jezebel stereotype and their sexual beliefs and behaviors: (a) how the Jezebel plays a role in their sexual exploration, (b) how the Jezebel contributes to sexual violence against Black women, (c) how the Jezebel is a hypersexual media representation of Black women’s sexuality, and (d) how the Jezebel is a negative sexual stereotype within family contexts. We review each theme in order of frequency (high to low).
Theme 1: Black Women’s Perceptions of How the Jezebel Plays a Role in Their Sexual Exploration
Thirty-two women (64%) highlighted the connections between their endorsement of the Jezebel stereotype and their personal beliefs and behaviors around sexual exploration and intimate partnerships. This theme included two subthemes: (a) restrictive habits in women’s clothing choices and interactions with men and (b) rejection of the Jezebel stereotype as a controlling image of Black women’s sexuality.
Subtheme 1: Restrictive habits in women’s clothing choices and interactions with men
The first subtheme demonstrated that the Jezebel stereotype contributed to more constrained and restrictive habits in women’s clothing choices and interactions with men (n = 24, 48%). These descriptions revealed how the participants tried to avoid the Jezebel label through sexual distancing behaviors (i.e., dressing modestly, abstaining from casual sexual encounters). In addition, an underlying topic was how Black women were treated differently for embracing the same sexual behaviors as White women (i.e., kissing, one-night stands, and ménage à trois). Isis, a fourth-year African American woman who rated the Jezebel stereotype as “somewhat relevant” and considered herself “sexually conservative,” shared the following: I don’t think it [hook-up culture] is okay, but the world and society believes it is okay. Like hey—she’s in college. She’s just trying to get her wild self out and she’s fine. But White girls can go to a party and kiss five different guys in one night. Let a White girl have a threesome—she’s just being adventurous. But let a Black girl do it and she’s a hoe. That’s also a reason why I don’t really like it [hook-up culture].
Although Isis was generally against the culture of casual, noncommittal sex that characterized her broader college environment, she also noted her disagreement with how Black women’s sexual exploration was castigated in ways that White women’s behaviors were not. Although she normalized sexual exploration during college, she also stated that she attempted to distance herself from being hypersexualized and did not like the “hook up culture” at her institution. Neveah, a second-year Ethiopian woman who rated the Jezebel as “very relevant,” said, I don’t want to be portrayed as that [Jezebel]. Many of the Black guys are athletes, so the way I communicate around them, the way I look at them, and the way I act around them—is to make sure I don’t look like that. That is the reason I said it was very relevant. Because I make sure that I do the opposite of anything that would be related to that in any way. Those of us that are very aware of it, we do everything that we can to be the opposite of that. To make sure that we’re not stereotyped as that. So you do everything you can to not look like that stereotype. If that stereotype didn’t exist, then there would be no guidelines of what that is and how to avoid coming across that way.
These excerpts revealed that among women who perceive the Jezebel stereotype negatively, a frequent response was to attempt to distance themselves from overt displays of sexual availability and sexual interest. This also extended to clothing choices and interpersonal interactions wherein they tried to downplay how others might construct their sexuality. Hailey, a first-year African American woman who rated the Jezebel as “very relevant,” revealed, I’ve had to dissect the Jezebel the most, because I’ve always been like—I can’t do that and I can’t do this. I didn’t lose my virginity ‘til very late, in college, so that was a big thing with me . . . my sexuality and making sure that I wasn’t perceived as this Jezebel. I feel like I don’t want to be as sexual as other people assume. Like when I wear my leggings and I’m just out walking, and my friends are like, “Who are you trying to impress?” or something like that. I’m just like, “Okay, I’m chilling. Y’all need to relax.”
Women in the first subtheme (i.e., restrictive habits in women’s clothing choices and interactions with men), focused on external perspectives on their sexual self and viewed their sexual behaviors in relation to their identity as Black women and the negative Jezebel stereotype. Their narratives highlighted the intersection between their identities as both women and racial/ethnic minorities and their experiences of sexual objectification.
Subtheme 2: Rejection of the Jezebel stereotype as a controlling image of Black women’s sexuality
Conversely, the second subtheme included eight women (16%), who discussed a critical awareness of the history and current relevance of the Jezebel stereotype with a concomitant focus on their sexual agency. Their descriptions highlighted significant shifts in how they thought about their own sexuality in relation to representations of Black women’s sexuality in popular culture and broader society. These women were committed to exploring their sexual interests and desires and were more prepared to challenge sexual objectification from the opposite sex. Participants also discussed how they approached conversations with friends and family members about the legacy of Black women’s sexual dehumanization in relation to their sexual choices. Jada, a second-year biracial woman who rated the Jezebel as “somewhat relevant” shared, I feel like this entire shift has happened alongside my shift with my relationship with God, and understanding that I don’t need to dress a certain type of way to please God . . . so why am I dressing a certain way to please people? I think that realization made me less concerned with what people were putting on me and more concerned with how I felt personally. With regard to my sexuality, it was very freeing, but I don’t know if it’s a result of my previous internalized morals and how I perceived how I should be, or if it’s because now, I’ve decided, “This doesn’t have to be the life I choose.”
Jada’s response demonstrated how her identity as a Christian significantly affected her decisions regarding sex and intimacy, as the Jezebel stereotype was omnipresent within her religious community as something to avoid. Other participants grappled with the intersection between social identities that were relevant to their sexual decision-making (i.e., religious or ethnic cultural norms). Jada revealed that she felt closer to God and more liberated within herself once she let go of the restrictive expectations in her religious community, and other participants embraced casual sexual encounters and rejected the idea that their identities as women and sexual beings required male approval. Grace, a second-year Ghanaian woman who rated the stereotype as “somewhat relevant,” summed up how her college experiences encouraged her to think about the Jezebel stereotype and her sexuality in a new way: Coming to college these past two years, I’m very aware of my sexuality and I know what I like and I know what I don’t like. I’m very accepting and open with it. If I’m having lots of casual partners in whatever time frame, I call that my hoe-ventures and every casual partner is just an episode in this one portion of my life, called hoe-ventures. And in being aware and open with my own sexuality, I feel like the Jezebel caricature is very relevant to me. If you’re sexually liberated—now you’re coined as a Jezebel—why is that? Why is there such taboo-ness around sex? Could it potentially be that Black women have never owned their sexuality, because of the history of slavery and sexual exploitation?
Grace’s example highlighted that while her sexual choices did not define her, her sexuality was an important component of her self-concept. This excerpt illustrated that her personal pleasure in sexual relationships mattered and that it was possible and important to reimagine the landscape of sexual agency for Black women by inverting the Jezebel stereotype. In all, however, most women considered the Jezebel stereotype a dominant, negative representation of Black women’s sexuality that encouraged them to distance themselves from sexual exploration.
Theme 2: Black Women’s Perceptions That the Jezebel Was a Contributing Factor to Sexual Violence Against Black Women
Eighteen women (36%) discussed their belief that the Jezebel stereotype contributed to Black women’s experiences of sexual violence. This theme focused on how the Jezebel stereotype plays a role in the unfair treatment and poorer concern regarding Black women and girls’ experiences of sexual violence. Specifically, participants articulated that due to the historical hypersexualization of Black women, men are more willing to act in lewd and aggressive ways without fear of repercussions, and Black women are less likely to receive justice for sexual assault and violence. Some women recounted examples of prior sexual harassment within a racialized lens. Farah, a third-year Ghanaian woman who said the Jezebel stereotype was “very relevant,” expressed the following thoughts: I notice this a lot when it comes to assault or sexual assault and rape. A lot of men in particular, the ones I come across, are very open with being sexual or creepy and weird with Black girls. I was at the first homecoming game and there was this old, creepy White man—I’m pretty sure he was drunk. He comes up to me and he’s like, “Wow, you’re so beautiful.” He didn’t stop there. He grabs my arm and squeezes it. I’ve noticed that it’s always a bit more pushed to the side when it comes to being Black and sexual things happening to you. Like—this is who you are. You are an object, so it’s okay to look at you like this. It’s okay to talk to you like this. It’s okay to grab your arm like this.
Farah described the physical violation she experienced during her interaction with the intoxicated White man, and she connected this specific experience to her broader perceptions of Black women’s sexual objectification. Later in the interview, she stated that these types of experiences made her guarded in her interactions with men, based on a concern that she would be subjected to additional physical, emotional, or sexual violence. Imani, a fourth-year African American woman who rated the Jezebel stereotype as “not relevant,” shared her thoughts on the connection between the Jezebel stereotype, sexual objectification, and sexual violence: I think with that stereotype, I think a lot of men would often oversexualize. Especially White men—I think they would oversexualize Black women quite often. At one point I had a Tinder, and just like most of the White men I met there were just saying things that were very, very, very vulgar. It’s like, “Do you talk to everyone like this or is it just me?”
Imani noted that she began to wonder if White men reserved this type of online harassment for Black women, suggesting a gendered racialized understanding of how men engaged in sexual discourse with Black women. Hailey, a first-year African American woman who rated the Jezebel stereotype as “very relevant,” discussed how her understanding of the sexual mistreatment of Black women started much earlier than college: It was really something I noticed and connected at a young age. I really connected that to like sexual harassment and sexual misconduct. “This is where I’m from [urban, metropolitan city in the Midwest] and I’m a Black woman, so these things are bound to happen.” I never really talked about it, it’s just something that I thought about. Just always feeling sexualized. Like even social groups here in college, and people coming up to me and saying, “I wanna have sex with you.” It’s kind of overwhelming in a way. I understand that I’m a Black woman and this is held differently. Also, to think about R. Kelly and think about . . . sometimes people want it so much that they abuse it.
The women’s narratives highlighted how overlapping structures of race and gender oppression contribute to the interpersonal and institutional sexual abuse and dehumanization of Black women. The Jezebel stereotype characterizes Black women as inherently hypersexual, animalistic, and sexually illicit, which the women perceived as a cultural absolution for harm-doers who sexually violate Black girls and women. Their excerpts draw attention to how the racialized history of the Jezebel stereotype normalizes sexual violence within online harassment, physical altercations, and sexual assault and rape.
Theme 3: Black Women’s Perceptions of the Jezebel as a Hypersexual Media Representation of Black Women’s Sexuality
Ten women (20%) discussed how one of the most prominent media representations of Black women’s sexuality involved the Jezebel stereotype, and involved discussions of colorism (i.e., prejudice against individuals with a dark skin tone, typically among people of the same ethnic or racial group) and texturism (i.e., idea that certain types of natural hair patterns are more desirable or beautiful than others). Participants were concerned that most media, including television shows and movies, presented a hypersexual and dehumanizing representation of Black women’s sexuality that was at odds with their own intimate desires. For instance, Rickea, a fourth-year Ghanaian woman who reported that the Jezebel stereotype was “not relevant,” mentioned, I think that there are some really cool and positive examples where the Black women are dynamic, and have both negative and positive attributes. They are a full whole person and those are the ones that I love . . . but there are a lot more where it’s just one-dimensional—like the Strong, Black woman or the Jezebel or the hoochie momma or whatever, you know? That’s frustrating to see, but if I’m watching a show and I see a representation of a Black woman that I don’t like, then I’ll just stop watching it for the most part.
Rickea noted how she actively disengaged from media representations of Black women that she considered inauthentic and harmful, a common choice for other women in the study. Another concern among the participants was that others, especially individuals who do not have close friendships or relationships with Black women, might see hypersexual representations as true renderings of Black women’s sexual nature. In other cases, participants noted recent shifts in media representation with more darker complexioned Black women being cast in shows as the protagonist and the female love interest (e.g., TV shows—Scandal and How to Get Away with Murder). However, Isis, a fourth-year African American woman who rated the Jezebel stereotype as “somewhat relevant,” described her issues with this media representation as well: And then even when you have the positive representation, you have to have the drama aspect. My mom hates Scandal because you have this successful Black woman who is doing things for herself and she’s independent, but she’s also the mistress of this White president. You know what I’m saying? Or you have the successful lawyer How to Get Away with Murder, but she’s also married to this White man and she’s cheating on her White husband with a Black man. I understand that TV has to have that drama aspect, but I want them to steer away from the stereotypical all the time. It’s wrong.
Isis communicated that it was not enough that Black women were being included in prime-time television, if the inclusion perpetuated problematic narratives of Black female sexuality and intimate partnership. This connection between art and reality extended for a few women into discussions of sexual assault, as they considered how the Jezebel stereotype dehumanizes Black women in such a way that society trivializes Black women’s challenges with sexual assault and violence in comparison to White women. Gabrielle, a Ghanaian woman in her fifth year of schooling who rated the Jezebel stereotype as “somewhat relevant,” shared, Rap videos emphasize the Jezebel thing . . . because when they rap, that is what it sounds like. Some people might say it makes being expressive with your sexuality and being open to having sexual relationships is okay. Some people might say that it encourages people to be focused on those things and to think about those things and not really value their body as they should, but to just let other people intrude all the time. You see a lot of domestic violence in these movies and broken families. Even though they were good movies, I don’t think that they had the best representation.
Gabrielle described her issues with rap videos that reinforced Black women’s bodily and sexual objectification, suggesting that such digital media representations undermined women’s body positivity and sense of self-worth through the primary focus on Black women’s sexual appearance and body parts, as well as depictions of Black women whose sexual relationships invoked narrow representations of love and intimacy. Overall, they suggested that the Jezebel stereotype was a unidimensional caricature of Black female sexuality and yearned for more multidimensional representations that presented Black women as sexual beings who were in emotionally fulfilling and healthy relationships.
Theme 4: Black Women’s Perceptions of the Jezebel as a Negative Sexual Stereotype Within Family Contexts
Finally, seven women (14%) described how family discussions on dating and intimate relationships invoked the Jezebel stereotype as a cautionary tale regarding inappropriate sexual behaviors. This theme included descriptions of their family’s expectations and norms on sexual exploration, clothing choices, and the women’s developing bodies, and revealed that family members had negative beliefs about Black women who they categorized as a “Jezebel.” The theme was more prevalent among women who reported that the Jezebel was “very relevant (n = 5) and generally related to restrictive beliefs among parents on daughters’ clothing choices and emergent sexual behaviors. For instance, Amaya, a second-year African American woman who rated the Jezebel as “very relevant,” recalled, I feel like when women say, “Oh, you’re acting grown,” I feel like that starts to create a pattern of women, like older women telling younger girls how they should act and it tends to lead to . . . I’m not trying to say older women, like adults, are acting like Jezebels, but it’s like they saw people their age who reflected the same characteristics and I guess they’re trying to stop us Black girls from acting like that.
Similar to Amaya, several women discussed how family members’ concerns that the young women would be “too fast” or “grown” translated into taking control over their clothing choices and how they interacted with boys. In particular, the girls’ family members heavily shunned their potential desire to engage in sexual exploration, even before they had attempted anything. Laila, a third-year African American woman who rated the Jezebel stereotype as “very relevant,” shared, My mom was always like—that’s something that’s private. It shouldn’t be discussed. She’s [Nikki Minaj] saying too much about it in the public sphere. Amber Rose, for instance. She’s not even doing anything negative with sex, but it’s the fact that she’s addressing it, in general. Especially my grandma, too. She doesn’t think that sexuality is something that’s supposed to be brought to a public sphere. I’m like—you guys need to just chill a little bit. It is not your body. My mom always wanted me to cover up because of the way that I’m shaped. She always wanted me to cover up and I feel like that stems from her being sexualized before she was really even ready to be sexualized.
Laila noted that the older Black women in her family disapproved of how certain Black female celebrities openly broadcast their sexual ventures in the public sphere, and how her family’s beliefs about the private nature of sexual activity factored into the sexual socialization she received about Black women who “flaunted” their sexual behaviors. She discussed how her physical shapeliness during adolescence contributed to consistent messaging from her mother that she needed to cover up. In some cases, family members punished the young women for acting in ways that they deemed too sexual. Hannah, a third-year African American woman who rated the Jezebel as “very relevant,” provided one such example: It’s always been an anti-, like sex is bad, that’s bad, everything’s bad, don’t touch it, don’t go anywhere near it. I don’t know what the norm is, but what I was raised really strict. I got in trouble for talking to boys. My dad was really big on that. I got the worst whooping of my life for saying I had a crush on a boy. I wrote in my diary all this stuff about it and he found it, and I got in so much trouble for that. In high school, my parents assumed that I was being sexually active. My dad would call me and be like, “You got a boyfriend?” And I’d be like, “No.” He’s like, “Are you lying to me? I know you got a boyfriend.”
Hannah’s father not only assumed that she was being dishonest about her sexual activity but also punished her for showing interest in a boy in her class. Her example suggested that the negative connotation of the hypersexual Jezebel stereotype contributed to restrictive sexual expectations from her father. Conversely, there was a single example of supportive sexual socialization in relation to the Jezebel stereotype, which highlighted a more sex-positive form of socialization. Concerning her mom’s reaction to her numerous suspensions for “tight clothing,” Aniyah, a second-year African American woman who rated the Jezebel as “somewhat relevant,” said, That’s why we are so close today because I could tell her anything. I was 14, 15, and I was a good kid—if I’m getting suspended for something, 10 times out of 10, it was not my fault. It was something about dress code, and she already knew what it was because she knew that I was tall. She knew that I was shapely and it was always going to be a problem, and it wasn’t a big deal. She wouldn’t be mad at me, and she would just say, “Yeah that’s what they do—they will try to sexualize you.”
Aniyah’s mom was aware of how others sexualize Black girls and women, and she chose to use that information to support her daughter and challenge the school’s punitive disciplinary practices against how clothing fit her daughter’s body. Her mother supported Aniya’s positive self-definition of her body by rejecting the school administrators’ attempts to hypersexualize her. Yet overall, the narratives revealed the intergenerational transmission of stigma related to the Jezebel stereotype and the young women’s socialization on sexual development.
Discussion
The present study used Black feminist perspectives (Evans-Winter, 2019; Lomax, 2018; Simms, 2001) to explore predominantly heterosexual Black college women’s understanding and endorsement of the Jezebel stereotype. Collectively, the women’s narratives demonstrate that the Jezebel stereotype remains a significant racialized and gendered construct of Black women’s sexuality, particularly, in regards to the young women’s sexual beliefs and their concerns over how others viewed their sexual behaviors (Evans & Dyson, 2015; West, 2012). The women communicated a range of responses concerning their endorsement of the Jezebel stereotype; whether they thought that the Jezebel was personally relevant or not, the majority of the participants acknowledged their awareness of the hypersexual stereotype, as well as its influence on their day-to-day behavior. Participants who had internalized the traditional ideological dimensions of this hypersexual representation revealed more hypervigilance about embracing their sexual desires and engaging in sexual behaviors. Their narratives echoed generations of Black feminist scholarship that highlights how Black women’s sexual objectification undermines Black women’s developing sense of sexual autonomy and agency (French, 2013; Stephens & Few, 2007; Stephens & Phillips, 2005). On the other hand, a smaller number of women (n = 8, 16%) believed that the Jezebel stereotype had a controlling influence on Black women’s sexuality, but felt determined to embrace their sexuality and (re)claim ownership over their sexual exploration and desires. Building on the self-definition tenet of BFT, their responses engaged the historical and contemporary implications of the Jezebel stereotype for Black women’s lived realities alongside agentic meaning-making processes of their sexual desires.
The Jezebel Stereotype and Black Women’s Sexual Exploration
When does the Jezebel stereotype become a relevant sexual archetype for Black women? Consistent with prior research (e.g., Fletcher et al., 2015), our findings suggest that even in girlhood, the stereotype factors into Black women’s socialization on their bodies and their emergent sexuality (Leath et al., 2020) and continues to act as a backdrop for Black women’s sexual expression into adulthood (Crooks et al., 2019). Women discussed how others surveilled and policed their bodies, which translated into a hypervigilance about how their external appearance transmitted implicit messages about their sexual availability. Thus, as the Black women in our study came to think of themselves as sexual beings, the Jezebel stereotype seem to act as a significant cultural image that appear to coerce some of the young women into sexual restraint and “respectability” (Higginbotham, 1993; M. Johnson, 2013). The women who internalized the negative connotations of the stereotype discussed their concerns of acting in ways (i.e., casual sex, seeming too eager for male attention) that would suggest they were a “Jezebel,” and did not believe that they had the right to embrace their sexual desires without fear of reprisal.
It would be interesting to consider whether this perspective shifts as Black women get older, as ageist and patriarchal assumptions in the United States about women’s sexuality and beauty (e.g., Lagana et al., 2015) might make the stereotype more relevant for women in their 20s and 30s. Future research should consider if and how the stereotype influences Black women as they age and explore whether Black women’s meaning-making changes over time. Our findings revealed that older Black women (moms, aunts, and grandmas) were the main family members chastising participants for “acting fast” or wearing leggings. This might suggest that Black women shift from focusing on their own potential embodiment of the Jezebel stereotype to controlling younger Black girls’ sexuality (Crooks et al., 2019). In reference to Collins’s (2004) original framework on controlling images of Black womanhood, scholars might also consider whether the Mammy stereotype becomes more relevant among older Black women in lieu of the sexually promiscuous Jezebel. As Lomax (2018) articulated, the mass production of the mammy image on pancake boxes and a variety of other cultural sites after slavery offered related benefits. The message: Black women are still in the nucleus of White households, holding together class, racial, gender, and moral order—and keeping Black Jezebel sluts at bay. (p. 49)
Yet in listening to responses from women in the theme, we began to wonder: Can Black women successfully reappropriate the Jezebel image as a site of sexual empowerment? This question is not a new one. According to some scholars, the ways that the Jezebel is taken up in popular culture reiterates pejorative stereotypes of Black female sexuality (Collins, 2004; Holland, 2009; Lomax, 2018) or risky sexual decision-making among Black women (e.g., Davis & Tucker-Brown, 2013), but this situates the reappropriation within broader cultural discourse rather than with Black women themselves. In general, our findings suggest that most women in the study wanted to distance themselves from the Jezebel stereotype, as many of these women filtered their sexual identity formation as Black women through a patriarchal lens that obscured their potential self-definitive power. While the women discussed an awareness of their feelings of desire and/or interest in romantic partners, they did not feel a sense of entitlement to those feelings or the type of agency that would allow them to act in the interest of their sexual needs.
Still, eight women in the sample not only acknowledged the intersectional oppression that shapes the contours of Black women’s sexual expression (including the Jezebel stereotype) but also noted that they were determined to embrace and explore their sexual desires. The Jezebel was a point of departure for these women’s right to define and demand sexual pleasure for themselves. They believed that their bodies and their sexual desires were inherently valuable—a subversion of mainstream, deficit-based discourses on Black women’s sexuality. A central tenet of BFT, self-definition, is critical to advancing Black women’s resistance to controlling images, including theorization that explicitly addresses Black women’s rejection and rearticulation of harmful stereotypes. Recent work on Black women’s desire and entitlement to pleasure and sexual agency indicates that Black women who are comfortable with their sexual desires, feel more entitled to sexual exploration, pleasure, and acting on their own behalf during partnered sexual encounters (Chmielewski et al., 2020; Horne & Zimmer-Gembeck, 2005). These young women increasingly rejected the expectation to embody their sexuality in relation to heteronormativity and the male gaze and problematized social discourse on Black women’s objectification and sexual disempowerment (Jerald et al., 2017). An important area of future study is to envision dimensions of sexual agency that address racism, sexism, and heterosexism.
The Jezebel Stereotype as a Contributing Factor to Sexual Violence Against Black Women
In addition, our findings indicate that the Jezebel is a significant sexual script for Black women, in that it pressured participants to assess their physical attractiveness through the male gaze, distance themselves from their own bodily desires, and normalize sexual passivity and coercion (Cheeseborough et al., 2020; French, 2013; Stephens & Phillips, 2003). Emerging evidence highlights the relationship between Jezebel stereotype endorsement and justification of intimate partner violence. Cheeseborough et al. (2020) found that for Black women, sexually objectifying experiences were unrelated to justification of intimate partner violence. However, Black women reported greater violence justification when they indicated a stronger endorsement of the Jezebel stereotype and more sexually objectifying experiences. These findings suggest that for Black women, other forms of oppression, such as racialized stereotypes, may play a role in the sexual objectification-intimate partner violence link. This is an understudied area in the research literature more broadly, and our findings shed more light on the connections that Black women make between the Jezebel stereotype and their personhood.
In the present study, women drew connections between the Jezebel stereotype and Black women’s experiences with sexual violence, suggesting that the racialized stereotype compounds their experiences of sexual objectification and harassment. The interplay between the Jezebel stereotype and the historical context of Black women’s sexualization (i.e., enslavement, Black women’s reproduction as a form of profit, Black women as incapable of being raped due to alleged promiscuity) sets the standards for appropriate sexual behaviors within a racialized and gendered cultural context that tolerates sexual violence against Black women (Buchanan & Fitzgerald, 2008; Donovan, 2007, 2011; Holland, 2009). Additionally, society reinforces Black women’s sexual experiences of race and gender marginalization, in that sexual criminal acts committed against White women receive more attention in the media than those committed against Black women (e.g., #MeToo movement, Surviving R. Kelly; T. Johnson, 2017; Sommers, 2016; Zounlome et al., 2019). Our findings suggest that the Jezebel stereotype negates Black women’s sexual agency, as well as their ability to feel closeness and security in intimate partnerships. Some of the women discussed personal strategies they used to try and avoid being targeted (not being alone with men in their dorm rooms), while others communicated sociopolitical understandings of how the Jezebel stereotype has been used to systematically justify the exploitation of and violence against Black girls’ and women’s bodies (Lomax, 2018; West, 1995). In all, our findings build on related work highlighting why it is necessary to adopt an intersectional lens in how we theorize and address sexual violence against Black women (Collins, 2004; Donovan, 2011; Zounlome et al., 2019).
The Jezebel Stereotype and Media Representation of Black Women’s Sexuality
Participants also recounted how media (including television shows, film, advertisements, and social media) usually portray Black women’s sexuality with the Jezebel caricature—as a woman who is young, alluring, manipulative, and oversexed (Coleman et al., 2016; Conrad et al., 2009). Scholars suggest that entertainment media is an important socialization agent as a form of cultural engagement, because individuals learn about their social world by viewing images and character portrayals, which may then guide their beliefs and interactions with others in real life (Gordon, 2008). During the interviews, women mentioned that they believed White people, in particular, view hypersexualized media images as accurate portrayals of Black women’s sexual desires, and these images suggest that Black women are open to unsolicited touching or physical harassment from men. Research indicates that Black women experience more sexual objectification than White women (Anderson et al., 2018; Gordon, 2008; Turner, 2011), that media contribute to individuals’ endorsement of gendered ideologies and stereotypes about Black women (e.g., Brown Givens & Monahan, 2005; Jerald et al., 2017), and that Black women may experience more unwanted sexual attention than White women in certain settings (Buchanan et al., 2008). Thus, the women’s concerns echo research on how media representation can reinforce harmful ideologies that subjugate Black women’s sexual autonomy.
A few of the women also discussed colorism within media sources, namely, that the majority of Black women who are cast as objects of sexual desire are lighter skinned or curvier (e.g., Conrad et al., 2009). Our findings revealed how the Jezebel stereotype may contribute to the sexual objectification of Black women in the media by reinforcing beauty ideals of colorism and texturism and positioning Black women’s sexuality as a performance for others’ pleasure and consumption rather than their own. Notable exceptions include Kerry Washington as Olivia Pope in Scandal, Viola Davis as Annalise Keating in How to Get Away with Murder, and Taraji P. Henson as Cookie Lyon on Empire. However, participants noted that in these cases, the Black women’s sexual relationships often carry other problematic dynamics (e.g., Olivia Pope’s involvement with the married, White President; Annalise’s extramarital affair with police officer Nate Lahey; and Cookie Lyon’s emotionally abusive dynamic with Lucious, including her 17-year prison stint). Pope and Keating’s affairs reinforce the hypersexual, “mistress” dimension of the Jezebel stereotype (Jerald et al., 2017), and Keating’s sexual tryst with a Black man (over her White husband) invokes the hypermasculine stereotype of Black men’s excessive sexual appetite (Collins, 2002). Moreover, Cookie’s abusive relationship with Lucious continues throughout several seasons. Their on-again, off-again dynamic is presented as an unrequited and unmatched love affair due to her prison stint, which reinforces a romanticized narrative of intimate partner violence. Thus, while featuring beautiful, medium-to-darker toned Black women as the female love interests, these media portrayals maintain stereotypical portrayals of the characters as sexual objects in unhealthy relationships.
Overall, participants conveyed the belief that Black women were largely absent in media representation. While Nielsen viewing data from 2015 revealed an increase in the representation of Black characters in media writ large (Ellithorpe & Bleakley, 2017), a recent content analysis by Cox and Ward (2019) noted that Black women on scripted television shows were most often single, mothers, dark-skinned, thin, and in high-status occupations. The findings indicated that the most commonly depicted behaviors included giving orders or commands, engaging in high-end occupations, and showing negative affective emotion (crying or storming off). Thus, the results indicated some diversity in television’s portrayals of Black women but may also highlight the presence of other stereotypical portrayals of Black women (e.g., the angry Black woman or the Mammy). Building on recent work (Cox & Ward, 2019; Lomax, 2018; Ward et al., 2018), our findings demonstrate that we require a more nuanced understanding of how the media portray the Black female body. In all, the women desired more holistic and humanized media depictions of Black female sexuality that authentically represented their experiences.
The Jezebel as a Negative Sexual Stereotype Within Black Family Contexts
Finally, consistent with prior scholarship (e.g., Fletcher et al., 2015; Leath et al., 2020) participants described how the sexual socialization they received in family contexts—including references to hypersexuality—played a role in their decision-making about sexual exploration and the intimate relationships they developed with others. In a qualitative study by Crooks et al. (2019), Black women discussed how the specter of the “loose” Jezebel acted as a socialization agent within family settings during their adolescent years. Similarly, other research has evidenced that family members expressed concern about the objectification of Black girls’ and women’s bodies in broader society, and responded to this worry by encouraging them to focus on their education, avoid boys, and dress modestly (e.g., M. Johnson, 2013; Townsend, 2008). Our findings demonstrated that familial messages about the Jezebel stereotype may reinforce girls’ experiences in school and church settings, where they encountered hypersexualization from peers, dress code restrictions from teachers, and admonition from fellow churchgoers about clothing choices. Across the various contexts, much of the socialization centered on how to distance themselves from the “fast” label as a form of protection against pregnancy and sexual exploitation, consistent with other research on Black adolescent girls (French, 2013; Muhammad & McArthur, 2015; Stephens & Phillips, 2003).
Importantly, the prevalence of these messages and participants’ awareness of how individuals in society devalue Black women’s bodies and sexuality may have undermined their sexual health and bodily self-esteem during emerging adulthood. The findings indicated that for most women in the study, those who more strongly endorsed the Jezebel stereotype seemed to report greater sexual inhibition, highlighting their concerns about hypersexuality. In many cases, the women in our study felt a responsibility to withhold sex as a sign of moral purity, consistent with a sexualized politics of respectability (Higginbotham, 1993; M. Johnson, 2013), which involves Black girls demonstrating self-respect and self-worth by not having sex. However, we contend that rather than conveying messages that undermine sexual autonomy and penalize sexual desire, Black families can help Black adolescent girls develop effective strategies for sexual health. These strategies should involve open communication about safer behaviors (i.e., ensuring they are tested for sexually transmitted infections, allowing sexual exploration as a normative desire, promoting abstinence as one safe choice rather than the only choice; Leath et al., 2020).
Limitations and Future Directions
There are a few limitations worth noting in the present study. First, the sample focused on Black college women attending PWIs, and several participants noted sexual harassment and mistreatment from White men. Consistent with other work (e.g., Hargons et al., 2018), our findings indicate that many of the women desired and pursued sexual encounters but tended to do so with Black sexual partners within the predominantly White university setting. While all Black women in the United States are embedded within a White patriarchal society, future research might consider whether Black college women attending historically Black colleges and universities (HBCUs) have different sexual experiences based on their immersion in majority Black settings. While some scholars have found that Black women at HBCUs described sexual pleasure as an affront to respectability (e.g., Simmons, 2012), others have found that Black women at HBCUs describe both positive (i.e., those associated with what was deemed as pleasurable) and negative (i.e., nonpleasurable to abusive) intimate, sexual experiences (A. L. Johnson et al., 2014).
In addition, while we considered sexual orientation, we lacked a sufficient number of Black women from LGBTQ backgrounds to engage with how the Jezebel stereotype foregrounds a particular heteronormative understanding of Black women’s sexuality. There is a small and growing body of psychological literature that considers Black women’s diverse sexual orientations (e.g., Chmielewski, 2017), which includes critiques of scholarship on Black women that demonstrate a continued investment in heteronormativity through its focus on heterosexual women and relationship dynamics (Morgan, 2015). In particular, “scholars have often failed to reinterrogate these venerated interventions with the temporal, cultural specificity reflected in contemporary US Black women’s ethnic heterogeneity, queerness and the advent of digital technologies and social media” (Morgan, 2015, p. 38). The young women in our sample were still navigating (and to varying degrees, in the process of rejecting) the heteronormative socialization that they received during childhood and adolescence and were at different stages of imagining new erotic possibilities within their Black queer sexuality.
Finally, we did not have narrative reflections from some of the women who deemed the Jezebel stereotype “not relevant.” In the interest of time, some of these women were not explicitly asked about the stereotype if they indicated that it was “not relevant,” while every participant who reported that it was “very relevant” received a follow-up question about the nature of its relevance. Thus, we may have gained more knowledge about how and why the stereotype was “not relevant” if each participant received the same probing question. Furthermore, given the diversity of the sample, there might have been ethnic distinctions regarding the women’s socialization and negotiation of the Jezebel stereotype as a gendered racialized construct of Black women’s sexuality in the United States. Specifically, African American women were more likely to rate the Jezebel stereotype as “somewhat” or “very” relevant compared with Black women from African immigrant households (someway relevant—n = 10 vs. n = 8 and very relevant—n = 8 vs. n = 4, respectively). The contextual and developmental differences in how ethnically diverse Black women acquire their sexual belief systems is an important area of future study (e.g., Tyson, 2012).
Implications for Practice
Our findings present several implications for educational advocacy efforts, clinical practice, and violence prevention work centered on Black women and girls. Educators and nonprofit organizations can disrupt the harmful legacy of the Jezebel stereotype by helping Black women learn to develop healthy relationships with others that include consistent conversations about sexual health and pleasure. Building on recommendations by Crooks et al. (2019), families can ensure that adolescent Black girls receive comprehensive sex education that includes culturally relevant messaging on sexual stereotypes. Race and gender socialization processes for Black girls should include conversations on sexual exploration, consent, and personal pleasure. In addition, sex educators can challenge patriarchal, heteronormative sexual messaging that prioritizes boys’ sexual desires over girls (Phillips, 2000) and the need for girls to protect themselves from boys’ “uncontrollable” desire and the unwanted effects of sex (i.e., sexually transmitted infections and pregnancy; Fletcher et al., 2015).
As suggested by Zounlome et al. (2019), counselors can provide the space for Black women to acknowledge how race and gender oppression influence constructions of Black women’s sexuality in broader society, and encourage them to embrace their agency in sexual decision-making and seeking sexual pleasure from partners. Counselors who are mindful of the stereotypical portrayals of Black women can help validate clients’ experiences and better prepare them to process their experiences in ways that account for oppressive societal ideologies. Similar to prior research (e.g., Chmielewski et al., 2020), our findings point to a need for therapists who work with Black women to help them navigate and resist internal, interpersonal, and institutionalized challenges to their sexual subjectivity posed by objectifying and repressive norms of femininity, including the ongoing policing of their desires.
In regards to prevention and policy implications, organizations that address intimate partner violence and sexual violence can promote more visibility regarding how race informs the history of sexual violence against Black women (i.e., decriminalizing sex work; Sankofa, 2016). These initiatives should prioritize the concerns and challenges voiced by Black women, as suggested by scholars who highlight the importance of culturally grounded community-level sexual violence prevention strategies within Black communities (Cheeseborough et al., 2020; Zounlome et al., 2019). However, these efforts should not focus solely on reducing Black women’s risk of harm or danger in sexual encounters; to properly support Black women’s sexual well-being, we need concomitant public discourse and action on community practices that facilitate Black women’s sexual desire and pleasure free from coercion and risk. Universities could develop unique programs for incoming Black students to address sexual violence and related topics, and support programming on campus in settings where Black women feel safe to hold conversations on sexuality. This should include dialogues on meaning-making and pleasure and monitoring mutual pleasure during partnered sexual encounters (Hargons et al., 2018).
Conclusion
The present qualitative exploration provided a more in-depth understanding of Black college women’s sociocultural understandings of the Jezebel stereotype in relation to their sexual beliefs, with particular attention to how some participants’ intersectional identities (e.g., ethnicity and religious affiliation) informed the role of the Jezebel stereotype on their sexual behaviors. Our findings extend what we know of Black women’s heteronormative socialization experiences within various ecological contexts (i.e., familial socialization, media representation, and discourse on sexual violence) by drawing attention to the women’s perceptions of the significant messages that they received before and during college regarding their sexuality. Their narratives demonstrated the ongoing relevance of the Jezebel stereotype as an ideological tool that deems Black women’s bodies and sexual experiences as less worthy of autonomy, intimacy, and respect compared with women from other racial groups. Scholars must continue to push the field forward in deconstructing deficit-based ideologies of Black women’s sexuality by challenging cultural notions that Black women are culpable for their experiences of sexual objectification and violence (Cheeseborough et al., 2020; Ward et al., 2018), as well as prioritizing research on topics such as sexual agency, desire, and pleasure (Hargons et al., 2018; Morgan, 2015).
Footnotes
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author(s) disclosed receipt of the following financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article: This research was funded through internal faculty funds at the University of Virginia. The authors did not receive external funding to support this research.
