Venus Williams is the older sister of Serena Williams. Both girls grew up under the tutelage of their father who saw greatness — and transferred that energy to his offspring in ways that continue to demand worldwide adulation.
Serena is dope. She is magnificent! In fact you probably love her more than I do. Everything she does is magic and we just can’t get enough. Despite the crap she is forced to accommodate from detractors who haven’t succeeded in their quest to “detract” — Serena still perseveres in her ability to rule over the courts of public opinion without faltering — even when the numbers aren’t in her favor.
We are proud to evoke the principles of #BlackGirlMagic whenever Serena effortlessly proves why she’s worth our time. And it helps that she’s always trending because when we mention her — there is the chance that there will be a beneficial bump in our numbers, which could mean a whole lot — depending on the day.
So, I was suddenly alerted about Venus Williams at Wimbledon, (no, I will not include a link, Google that shit yourselves) and I was forced to stop in my tracks as I took in the awesome news that she conquered her opponent, Johanna Konta — in a qualifying win that could potentially tip her into the realm of what The New Yorker described as “the greatest player of all time.”
That sounds pretty amazing, right?
I mean Venus is thirty-seven years old, and she has battled a slew of physical challenges including an autoimmune disorder, defined as Sjogren’s syndrome. This medical condition is no joking matter when you consider that it basically saps the energy out of you while also causing terrific pain.
Still, Venus continues to overcome the negatives by striking them as positives as she pursues her twentieth anniversary at Wimbledon by demolishing Konta and owning her place for the ninth time at the finals.
Venus is quite possibly the American Dream that refused to die. The dream that kept giving through the trials and tribulations, through the glory of her younger more popular, more adored sibling, through the negligence of those who discount her worth — because there is really no evidence that proves why she should be celebrated for her heroic efforts.
Shame on the Black publications like Essence, Ebony, HuffPost Black Voices, and the host of others that blatantly and disgracefully refused to acknowledge the Black woman who performed like a mighty warrior — despite all the odds against her — by emerging victorious.
Venus Williams didn’t get any love from us, particularly from those of you that are paid to do just that.
None of you were willing to recognize or publicly salute the example of what we scold others for insultingly ignoring — even though we are just as bad — if not worse.
I scanned the web and I tried every version of the hashtag that would bring me the headlines — squealing the gloriousness of the “comeback kid” who defeated a kid — with the swift temperament of garnered maturity and a prized upper hand — and I was tragically met with a handful of notables that did what they needed to do out of duty — while the rest were the usual recyclables.
None of you cared. You wrote about Serena and ignored her older sister. You barely retweeted her valiant feat. The realization that literally no reputable Black publication bothered to even casually draw attention to Venus’ stunning win — is something we should really take the time to examine.
This gaping hole was so wide that it affected the way other pubs outside our circle chose to react. Twitter Moments also got the message — as evident in the short and sweet stint that exposed the older Williams sister’s return to the spotlight, but that only lasted for a short time before the sweet turned sour — and she was bumped for more important topics — like period sex.
We care about Beyonce and her precious twins. We want more of her and I’m also a disciple. I worship Serena and there is evidence to support that fact. I’m not quite the fan of #BlackGirlMagic because I never thought it was consistent and now I know I was correct in my assessment.
It’s abominable that Venus Williams could be on her way to shattering world records and possibly monumentally surpassing Serena Williams — and none of you — editors, writers, interns, managing editors, publishers, editors-in-chief — give a fuck.
It’s all about clinging to the biblical offerings that are worth the clicks, shares, comments, recommendations, and instant followers. We speak out of our ass and when the lips move it stinks. The stench is stifling and it bewilders those of us who are still capable of asking — WTF?
So, I’m asking. WTF?