My name is Karen. I would like to register a complaint.
My name has been everywhere on the Internet in recent weeks, with #Karen trending on Twitter, flooding TikTok and becoming the subject of social media memes. #AndThenKarenSnapped also became a viral trend, describing white women losing their tempers. In the past several years, “Karen” has come to represent a certain archetype of middle-aged white female privilege — or the new n-word, depending on who you ask. Yup, “Karen” is the new black.
A young Karen likely would have been the class snitch, tattling on her classmates to the teacher to get them in trouble. Middle-aged Karen is the one asking to see your manager. And a Karen at the peak of her powers will call the police on someone for a mild inconvenience.
The most recent Karen fires came from across the Atlantic, fanned by white British women claiming that “Karen” is — wait for it — an oppressive slur. “Does anyone else think the ‘Karen’ slur is woman-hating and based on class prejudice?” tweeted Julie Bindel, a British feminist writer, whose credentials in oppression include being known for espousing anti-trans rhetoric. Nonetheless, the conversation
Prepositions shift periodically: lately everything is “around” something.
As a millennial black Karen, and a child of immigrants, I
have more Intersectional Pokemon Points than you do
find the brouhaha hilarious and twisted. “Karen” is not and will never be an oppressive slur.
It’s a racist slur on white women, so that’s not oppressive, that’s good.
Anyone who disagrees can take it up with my manag … — I mean, with history.
These days, history is constantly invoked to explain why the pundit deserves to be privileged.
In her piece for the Guardian, Freeman’s basis for labeling the Karen meme sexist was that white men are using the word to make fun of white women. But Freeman seems to believe “Karen” originated with white men, when these notions about the name and white privilege have been circulating in the black community for a long time. …
Freeman largely ignores race in her piece, save for one throwaway line: “People of color should describe their experiences of racism in whatever language works for them.”
Well, many of us decided that Karen, or, say, Becky, works for us. Black American expression, including hip-hop, rap and remix culture, drives global social media culture and shapes language. Take Becky, for example: It was rapper Sir Mix-a-Lot’s 1992 song “Baby Got Back,” in which a white girl, disgusted by the shape of a black woman’s body, talks behind the black woman’s back to her friend Becky. Over the years, and partially thanks to Beyoncé, “Becky” was popularized in the black community to refer to a white girl, especially one with backstabbing tendencies.
… In America, white women are often believed and protected at all costs, even at the expense of black lives. In 1955, it was a white woman who falsely accused 14-year-old Emmett Till of whistling at her in Mississippi, which led to him being brutally beaten and killed.
Really? That happened merely 65 years ago? Why have I never been informed about this Emmett Till person?
Fast-forward to recent years and we still learn about black people being arrested or assaulted because a white woman called the police unnecessarily. Becky and Karen memes and jokes should be understood in this context, part of a long tradition to use humor to try to cope with the realities of white privilege and anti-blackness.
Dehumanizing slurs don’t gain their cruel power overnight. They are part and parcel of generations of violence, erasure and discrimination. Calling the Karen meme the new n-word or asserting that it is a sexist slur only trivializes actual violence and discrimination that destroy lives and communities.
And to invent oppression when none is happening to you? Well, as a Karen, I just have to say — that is peak Karen behavior.
By Karen Attiah