To Be or Not to Be Black(ish): The Case of Tyla and Presidential Candidate Kamala Harris

What parallels can be made between rising South African pop-star Tyla and U.S. presidential candidate Kamala Harris? In recent years, they have been catapulted to the global music and political stages. Their mixed race/ethnic heritage has been the topic of discussion since then. This is especially prominent, given Tyla identifies as Coloured before anything else, while Kamala Harris identifies as both Black and Indian. They have had to continuously defend and explain their race, ethnicity, and sometimes their nationality. 

The ideas of race, ethnicity, and nationality have long been conflated. In cases of mixed-race individuals, this conversation becomes extremely exhausting. As Americans, the 400+ year ramifications of the Transatlantic Slave Trade have forced mixed-race people to be clear about their identity and that would inform how society casts them.

For centuries, the United States’ “one drop rule” was that caste system. As the name implies, the smallest drop of African ancestry decided your fate as an enslaved person or a free-person. And of course, this trickles into the roots of colorism, where the darker your complexion the harsher treatment you suffered from a slavemaster. Centuries later, this idea of “one drop” consciously and subconsciously affects how we perceive race. And even today, how and where a person was raised can be substituted for racial authenticity. We’ve seen this countless times in white or Hispanic people who may be seen as Black due to the family or neighborhood they were raised in, or simply due to their liberal use of the n-word. It’s crazy to think it was white people who created n-word slurs to subjugate enslaved people, and now it’s white people using that same language to feel accepted into Black culture. Black features, accents, hairstyles, etc., that were once deemed racist minstrelsy are now sought after and adopted by non-Black people because it’s “cool.”  Even down to having melanated skin (see Get Out). 

As South Africans, the means by which one identifies racially also stems from white supremacist thinking. Tyla grew up in this system. In 1910, the white minority Afrikanners created a racial caste system called Apartheid. In 1948, Afrikanner political victory led to the institutionalization of an even more rigid hierarchical system of Whites, Coloreds, Indians, and Africans. Coloured was considered a mixture of all the other social groups.  The Apartheid system insisted that Coloured people were better than the majority Africans, yet still politically and socially unequal to whites.  Outside of South Africa, however, the term colo(u)red has an offensive connotation; for that reason, one has to be sensitive in how one uses it.

Clearly, ideas of race can change with the times. In recent times we’ve seen a microscope put on prominent mixed race figures in pop-culture to investigate racial authenticity, even if they still benefit from colorist respectability politics. Presidential candidate Kamala Harris and Tyla are two sides of the same coin; both women with similar mixed-ethnicities have recently spent the majority of their time in the limelight defining their identities.  People are demanding both Tyla and Kamala Harris make more of an effort to clarify or embrace their Blackness, as their racial “ambiguity” has caused polarization. In both cases, it cannot be ignored that being lighter-skinned has produced social capital for their public images. Just look at how Tyla has become the new face of African music, namely Amapiano. 

But we’re in a time where Black authenticity seems to also carry a social capital of sorts. It’s what separates those who are the culture, and those who wear the culture. Like Kendrick said, “Are you a colleague or a colonizer?”

Tyla’s act of identifying as “Coloured” does distance her from being seen as Black and upholds an outdated means of racialization.  It’s a touchy line to toe when trying to break into the global music market, and cultivate her American fanbase. Carissa Cupido, a South African radio host, fiercely protects and advocates for Tyla’s right to identify as Coloured in 2024. She remarks, “People who disregard Tyla's heritage are also erasing and dismissing my existence and my family's existence, and the way we understand, perceive and navigate the world… To have the audacity to question somebody's self-identification and replace it with your own - that's ridiculous. You are not progressive.” 

Vice President Kamala Harris has proudly identified as both Black and Indian, but many believe she leans into identifying with Black culture in hopes of electoral support. And as Professor Nitasha Sharma points out, “All skinfolk ain't kinfolk. Even if you are a particular identity, it doesn't mean politically that you're going to pass laws and legislation that is good for that broader community.” And this point, valid or not, has raised such contention that various Black celebrities have used to align with Trump instead, as if his wild accusations deem him more authentic on a Black issue. Newsflash, they do not… 

Regardless of geography, marginalizing social systems caused colorist hierarchy. These social systems created the idea of racial authenticity vs. inauthenticity. The social systems created the ways we choose to identify ourselves, regardless of how that aligns with other people of shared ethnicity, race, or nationality. These systems dictate how we view race across the African diaspora; while this does have real-life consequences it is not a substitute for racial authenticity. Nor should it be the reason we discredit Tyla’s incredible talent or Vice President Kamala Harris’ presidential fitness.