I've got something to say to some close personal friends, and this is obviously the appropriate forum. Sorry, Kanye West and Serena Williams. I just had to say it before the three of us meet up for our weekly "Mad Men" viewing party. Phew. What a load off my chest.
Okay, fine, whatever. You got me. I confess that I don't actually know West or Williams. But they still deserve an apology. Think about it: Might they — for weeks now the proverbial punching bags of pundits, daytime television gabbers and even President Obama — have (gasp!) actually been on to something?
In case you were making useful contributions to society for the past few weeks instead of attempting to watch awards shows and tennis matches in 10-minute chunks on YouTube, I'll fill you in. Two points from defeat in the semifinals of the U.S. Open, a lineswoman called a foot fault on Williams' second serve. Williams then berated the woman, pointing her racquet toward her with one hand and holding a ball in the other while exclaiming something along the lines of "I'd like to take this ball and shove it down your throat," minus an expletive or nine. Williams was docked a point, thereby ending the match. The next evening, at the MTV Video Music Awards, West cut perky (and utterly insufferable) Taylor Swift's acceptance speech short, taking to the stage to proclaim that Beyoncé Knowles' "Single Ladies" video (the one with the leotards and the freaky robot glove), a loser in the category, was "one of the best videos of all time." This isn't necessarily the timeliest of columns, but with repercussions somehow still reverberating — Williams will soon face a possible suspension, and West just cancelled a potentially glorious co-headlining tour with Lady Gaga, reportedly to allow for some personal reflection — now's as good a venting period as any.
Do I condone threats of violence? Only when peanut butter is at stake. Is it nice to interrupt a teenager's big VMA moment? Not really, considering that Swift, like the rest of our age group, probably suffers from enough crippling, hilarious self-doubt as it is, fame be damned. But, with some time now to think, I'm actually shocked at my own initial, immediate outrage in response to both incidents. I happen to think that I'm pretty easygoing (not that my suitemates would agree when I tell them to turn their music down at 2 a.m.) and I'm a fan of West and Williams, but in the days following their respective transgressions I found myself joining in the chorus of insults levied towards them. And I was wrong.
Amid the "firestorms" of "controversy" (because health care and the recession aren't diverting enough, duh) I concluded that, for one, Williams and West were both kind of right on the mark, and two, that each was actually exhibiting the very traits for which I admire them. So what's with the shock and horror? Getting called for a questionable foot fault at that late a stage of a match that deep in such an important tournament is pretty messed up, and the "Single Ladies" video is, indeed, rather awesome. Were their methods of expressing their honest feelings a little inappropriate? Sure. But the fault for the explosion of public outcry to such an absurd degree lies with me and others like me. I've realized that I've been asking for too much. I'm as entertained by feisty celebrities with superiority complexes as anyone, but I tisk-tisk with the masses when their behavior crosses some invisible boundary from adorably outrageous to rude and offensive. I look up to role models who project confidence, but I criticize them when I detect a barely perceivable shift to cockiness. I want it both ways.
My affinity for West and Williams centers on each one's unfailing, borderline delusional self-belief. They really, really like themselves, and when they've accomplished as much as they have, they've earned the right to boast. So why was I suddenly surprised to learn that these two have massive cajones? Is Williams not the same woman who once wore a skintight black catsuit on court?
Yet, for some reason, my opinion of her is tarnished when she shows the same brazen confidence as always and speaks her mind about an unfair call. I find West's self-comparisons to everyone from Muhammad Ali to Prince to Nelson Mandela to be totally charming, but I cry foul when the same bravado carries over into questioning the legitimacy of a meaningless award. If anything, West was milder than usual — he began his rant by diplomatically telling Swift that he was happy for her and would allow her to finish her speech. His earnestness was actually kind of endearing.
Again, neither Kanye nor Serena went about their business in the proper fashion. But the manner in which we laud Williams and West when they're up and kick them when they're down just isn't fair, particularly when they're only giving me, and every other fan, exactly what I ask of them. Disappointment in the handling of these situations is one thing, but flat-out vitriol? Serena should shove some balls down our throats for that one.
So, to repeat: Sorry, guys. Call me to figure out who should bring the chips and dip to the viewing party.
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Derek Schlom is a freshman who has not yet declared a major. He can be reached at Derek.Schlom@tufts.edu.
