"Mrs. Carter" by Evan N.

Not many aspects of my life have remained constant throughout my “teenage years”. Emotions, friends, grades, they have all changed; some in a subtle and easy-to-handle manner, others in a drastic and wildly unpredictable way. In the dawn of my seventeenth year of existence I have contemplated what has, through thick and thin, remained the same. One thing that precedes most others in this ring of similarity, that has stuck with me from middle school into freshman year and through my high school career (and as a result, has become a defining trait that others remember as a way to identify me), is: my overbearing loyalty to one musical artist. If you are reading this, and we have been to each other’s houses, or you have been in my car (appropriately nicknamed the Swagmobile) while I have the aux, or if we had a seat next to each other in Spanish freshman year, I assume you can infer the identity of the individual that I am prefacing. This woman has inspired me in many aspects of my life, and is currently the face of VOGUE’s 2020 December issue in the United Kingdom. Beyoncé Giselle Knowles-Carter.

 

I understand that this prelude to my blog post would have any reader believing that this essay is about Beyoncé: her life, her legacy, and her legendary status in the entertainment industry— but, on the contrary, I would much rather write a short essay on ​why​I admire Mrs. Carter, and the complexity behind why she has surpassed the realm of being a simple “celebrity obsession” for me.

 

From the early stages of my childhood I have always admired the confidence and strength of women. My mother recalls the many times that her sister would come over and I would steal her high-heeled shoes and walk around in them. Her and my father remind me of how expressive I was as a child in the fashion sense, wearing authentic cowboy boots and flaunting my (unfortunate) neon athleisure. The Pussycat Dolls (if any of you remember them) were always on as I would straddle chairs and catwalk down the large hallway of the second house that my parents owned. I remember those recollections that my family and I have and assimilate those to many aspects of the influencers of my childhood. The people on the television and the women singing through the MP3 player were tributes to the women in my own life who not only raised me, but nourished my personality. My grandmothers (both recently widowed), my aunts, and my own mother were all confident, beautiful, intelligent, strong women who I spent a lot of time with and who had been through so many ups and downs in their own personal lives. With my ability to now analyze my own behavior in my young life, I realized my subconscious desire to be like them: not through wearing heels or straddling chairs, but through being able to harbor the confidence to be outspoken and unafraid.

 

Then came along a woman who I could model myself after on my own without family or friends. Beyoncé harbors all of the qualities of the person that I had always strived to be. Her confidence, her aura, her image, her individuality, and the allowance of people to feel comfortable with who they are no matter what labels are placed on them in society are all qualities that I hope to reflect in the future. With disregard to her incredible live performances, her music, and her celebrity status, she was able to put her name above what she identified as

and what labels had been placed on her by society. I had always been conflicted in the sense that I did not know how to express myself. She helped me identify with who I really am as a person. She is black, southern, a woman, a wife, a mother, a singer, and a celebrity, but through all of the labels put on her identity, the most prevalent identifier of who she is is: Beyoncé. One says her name and all other generalizations come second. At the end of the day I can proudly say that I am Evan Nguyen before I am anything else.

 

When I’m not sure who I am, or when I have trouble finding self-confidence, I remind myself that I’m the only one who can really directly impact myself. I’d say a good part of that was not because I modeled myself after Mrs. Carter, but because I realized how to model myself after who I want to be as an individual (though Beyoncé did help with that realization). And if you think Beyoncé is overrated or overhyped, go ahead and hit me up on Instagram and we can have a “civil conversation” about our differing opinions. In all seriousness, thank you for reading this far and I hope you have a wonderful holiday season and some new music to listen to!