Black Swifties At The Eras Tour Defend Their Love Of Taylor Swift

This week, Billboard named Taylor Swift as the second greatest pop star of the 21st century. The top spot, of course, went to Beyoncé. As it should! (Is my Beyhive showing?). While the internet discourse rages over who should have been crowned, it’s clear that Swift has never been more popular and more polarizing — simultaneously. In the culture wars, you’re supposed to choose a side. And if you are a Black woman, the assumption is that you’re on Team Bey and for the most part, that tracks. It’s understandable that Beyoncé’s base is the Black women who grew up feeling seen by Destiny’s Child and Swift has cornered the market on sad suburban white girls who’ve loved her since she was writing about the teardrops on her guitar. But that picture is too one-dimensional. First of all, it relies on a comparison that is unfair to both artists. As Swift herself has acknowledged, Beyoncé is a once-in-a-generation-talent who has influenced the entire music industry and paved the way for every female solo artist who came after her, including Swift. That’s not a knock on Swift’s own achievements. It’s that the comparison starts a narrative both stars would very much like to be excluded from. And second, the Beyoncé vs. Taylor wars paint us all with the same brush, leaving no room for nuance, for varying tastes, and for Black Swifties. Yes, they exist. 

Usually, the discussion surrounding being Black and a Taylor Swift fan is wrapped up in shame and complexity. For Pop Sugar, Wangui Mwai wrote a piece called The Complicated Reality of Being a Black Taylor Swift Fan. There’s the viral reddit post by a Black fan called “my thoughts/struggles as a Black taylor swift fan.” For Refinery29 Australia, Bizzi Lavelle wrote “I’m A Blak Woman Who Loves Taylor Swift — But It’s Complicated.” Reading some of these made me sad. I want us to be able to like what we like in peace. At the same time, I appreciate the care and consideration we put into the artists we pour our energy into.

In each of these posts, these women unpack why listening to Swift while Black often has to come with a disclaimer or a defense (I’m a Black Woman and a Swiftie—And That’s OK, The Every Girl). They love her lyrics but don’t agree with the fact “that she’s basically a physical representation of how white women uphold systems of oppression while only highlighting their own.” (Reddit). They love her vulnerability but don’t agree with how toxic, rabid, and racist some of her non-Black fanbase can be (Pop Sugar). They love the nostalgia of her music but don’t agree with her usage of a private jet or her past fling with the problematic Matty Healy (Refinery29). They love her songs but don’t love how isolated loving her makes them feel (all of the above). While I understand the cultural analysis and the desire to dig deep into Swift’s impact, all of this handwringing over liking a pop star is almost comical to me. Is it really that serious? 

When I got the chance to cover the Eras Tour, I knew I wanted to tackle this topic with the very people who knew best: Black Swifties. And under the sparkling lights of the highest grossing concert tour of all time, in between pushing passed bodies covered in glitter and weaving through a wave of cowboy hats and bedazzled tassels, the concurrent seriousness and absurdity of devoting yourself to the Swiftdom was clear. To her legions of fans, loving Swift isn’t casual, it’s personal. But it’s also silly and playful. Aside from the fact that many of her followers are actual children (including my four-year-old niece), youthfulness is one the stocks Swift trades in. Often, Black women don’t have the luxury of being seen as forever young. I understand wanting to play pretend in Swift’s perpetual sandbox for a while. For Khortlyn Cole, a self-described Swiftie who used to run a Tumblr account dedicated to the singer-songwriter, her love of Swift started young. She’s 29 now, and she’s been a fan of the pop star since her 2008 album Fearless. Sixteen years later, Cole is used to having to defend her status as a Black Swiftie. 

 “I think Taylor Swift embodies the stereotypical white woman to the mass culture. And I think that is what makes her a lightning rod,” she told me over the phone. “There's been a lot of comments my entire life about the fact that I like Taylor Swift as much as I do. [They say] I'm whitewashed or an Oreo or I have horrible fashion or don't have my Black card — I've gotten those all my life.” Cole has felt like an outsider throughout her life and if you listen to Swift’s lyrics, that’s a recurring theme. “The romantic aspect of her writing really hit me,” she said. “When you’re a Black girl in a white space, you're not often looked upon as beautiful. So I think I related to her in that aspect of her writing.” When I imply that Swift’s lived experience is getting farther away from her fans', Cole disagrees. “She obviously is living a different life than me as a billionaire but at the core of it, her writing is just about her feelings, her love, her family, and I think that's the same thing that we all experience.” Over the course of our 40-minute conversation about Swift, Cole told me about the community she’s found with other Swifties, how Swift’s music helped her get over her first breakup, and she gleefully recalled the time Swift sent her a handwritten note and a polaroid camera as a present. She admits her perspective is “extremely skewed” because of her interactions with Swift, who left a comment on one of her posts that said “Whenever you feel alone, you're not alone” that she still re-reads when she’s having a bad day. This kind of bond between artist and fan is rare, but not for Swift. Swifties are criticized for their parasocial attachment to the pop star, but it’s a connection she encourages and fosters. Some would say it’s unhealthy. Others would say it’s her superpower. 

At the Rogers Centre in Toronto, immersed in a sea of screaming fans belting songs about heartbreak, it sure felt powerful. I wouldn’t say I’m a Swiftie, but I am a student of pop culture and a lover(girl) of pop music. I’m also unapologetically earnest and a proud feeler of feelings. So, of course, some of Swift’s music has hit me hard (have I, a Capricorn, cried into my keyboard while singing the line, “I cry a lot but I am so productive, it’s an art!”? Maybe). Also, as a Black person who grew up in predominately white spaces, I’m used to having my tastes called into question, my Blackness put on trial. Sure, it doesn’t feel great but of all the shit Black folks have to put up with, this isn’t a real problem. That said, turning us into a monolith is dangerous. We have every right to like whatever we want. We are different, diverse human beings and music preference is subjective. Period. And I’m in the business of giving Black women the space to feel seen and heard. For years, Black Swifties have been in my DMs asking us to acknowledge them. So this piece isn’t even really about Swift. She’s got plenty of attention and support, she doesn’t need ours. As I was walking through the Eras concert in Toronto looking for Black fans and finding only a handful, I realized that they did. 

I talked to five Black Swifties, who each shelled out hundreds — and in one case, thousands — of dollars to get closer to their idol (tickets were selling for upwards of $22,500). They told me about why they love Swift, no shame, and defended her against the critics who say she’s only in the position to sell out stadiums because of her privilege. They also seemed really excited to talk to another Black person at the show (once again, we were few and far between), like my good friend Elamin Abdelmahmoud who is one of the biggest Swifties I know, and he’s a straight Black man. He’ll be the first to say that ascribing music preferences based on race is foolish and as we were taking our seats, he said: “At a certain point, the discourse and all the noise about her is going to fade away and you’ll just appreciate that this is an artist putting on a really good show for her fans.” And at a certain point, it did.

While my overall opinion of Swift didn’t change much, I was thoroughly impressed by the massive stage production and her stamina (she goes for three and a half hours nonstop). But most of all, I was sucked into the awe and excitement I could see on the faces of the women I spoke to. In their own words, here are their unfiltered thoughts on Taylor Swift. 

How much I paid for my ticket: $500 CAD

Why I love Taylor Swift: I feel like there's like, a lot of negative hype around her, that people automatically hate her without paying attention to the lyrics. But I grew up as a lover girl so I was all about the lyrics from the beginning. Those lyrics connect with you. I was singing “Fifteen” when I was 15, and some guy broke my heart, right? And then 22 [came out] when I turned 22. I'm waiting for her to do something about being 30, because we're almost there.

How I relate to Taylor Swift: I'm a lover girl, right? So at the end of the day, she gets a lot of criticism for all of her boyfriends, but she just wants to be loved and find love and be loved well. And that's how I can relate to her. I will never relate to every other privilege she gets to have. But I want to be loved too. 

On the critics of Swift's dancing and singing: I like how she sings. I can't sing to save my life. I think there's always white privilege. I think she blew up a lot more during the pandemic. And some of it is probably a lot of hype, and people wanting to [jump on her] bandwagon. Yeah, I agree she can't dance. I mean, that's just facts. I'm not here for her to dance for me. I'm here to listen to the words that she writes. I think she's a great author at the end of the day. And, I mean, she sings better than me. That's fine. That's good enough.

How much I paid for my ticket: $400 CAD

Why I love Taylor Swift: I've always really loved her music, and I think she just writes about things that people relate to a lot. I think she's just great. I know a lot of Black women don't really see themselves in her music or in her art, I guess it's just how it is, but I do. I love Taylor Swift so much, and I know that her heart is genuinely in a good place, at least for the most part.

What has been disappointing about being a Black Taylor Swift fan: I think intersectionality is really important, especially for feminism. I think Taylor Swift does pander a lot to white women as her audience, and her feminism is very centered around white women, which is not ideal. It’'s a little bit of a turn off, but I just love her music so much that I'm somewhat willing to overlook it. She's a grown woman. So at this point, as much as you want to give people space to learn, it comes to a point almost where this is stuff that you should already know.  I don't find that she's outspoken enough on, like, Black Lives Matter and that whole movement. She's been very outspoken on other things, like support for Kamala Harris, but I just find that she's very selective with the things that she chooses to speak on. And I'm sure there's a reason for it, but it's just disappointing.

On finding community at the Eras tour: I just met the most lovely older lady over there while sitting with my camera. She was so sweet. I think people are nice when they want to be. I don't know if it has anything particular to do with race. Some people are just a little more anti-social than others. Among other Black Swifties, I feel the most welcome.

How much I paid for my tickets: $3,000 CAD

How long I’ve been a fan: I've been a fan since “Tear Drops On My Guitar.”

Why there are so few Black Swifties: I think she has her reputation of being like the anti Beyoncé. So I think Black people love Beyoncé and think they have to choose. I'm a Beyoncé fan and a Taylor fan. I do both.  Black people can do anything.

Why I love Taylor Swift: I love the music. She's a great writer, and the songs are very eloquent. Her lyrics are universal. 

Why I feel welcome at the Eras tour: Because I’m a Swiftie and that’s it.

How much I paid for my tickets: $700 CAD

Why the music is all that matters: I would say it's kind of upsetting that people want to put Black Swifties in a box, like we have to fit into the mold of listening to a certain type of music. And if we listen to Taylor Swift, it's something weird. I feel like everyone is free to listen to whatever kind of music you want, as long as it resonates with you. The music, that's all that matters. You liking a song is something that's subjective. Everyone has their own opinion. If you don't like it, you don't like it. I can't force you to like it. If I like it, it resonates with me. I like the beats. I like the music. That's it. Like, there's not much to say other than that. To each their own. I don’t really listen to what the critics say. I just listen to music and I'm done.

Why I love Taylor Swift: I really enjoy the storytelling aspect of her music. I feel like every time I think about a song, I just imagine a storyline going through my head, like the song for Romeo and Juliet [“Love Story”], I just imagine the whole scene like Romeo going to her window throwing pebbles. It's just cinematic. That's how I would describe it. Each album has a theme. I feel like she really makes it personal and each album relates to something that she's going through in her life, and she centers the whole album around that theme. That's one thing that makes her stand out among the other singers.

On the Eras tour being a safe space: I just think how friendly and welcoming she is with her fans. She really creates this environment of “we're family, we're friends.” This is a tight knit community where there's no judgment. Even with the friendship bracelets, I came here without a friendship bracelet. Someone just turned around, struck up a conversation, and then I got a bracelet. Everyone's just happy to be here, no negative emotion. Everyone's just a family here.

How much I paid for my tickets: $700 CAD

Why I love Taylor Swift: I would also use the word “cinematic.” Our little sister likes English, and we do annotations. We’ll take her lyrics and annotate the songs and relate them to TV shows or movie characters. We’ll be like, Oh, “My Tears Ricochet” reminds me of characters in The Hunger Games or like, wow, this is so Stranger Things the newest season. Her lyrics always have a deep meaning to them, and then you can see how they relate to your own life.

How I relate to Taylor Swift: We saw her growing up, and she always would share stuff with her fans, like when people would be making fun of her or getting bullied on the internet, or the whole time when she was offline. But then she tells her fans, “you know who you are. Don't hide that. Just be who you are and be comfortable in yourself.” That's something I really could connect to, even though she's white. At the end of the day, I am me. This is my skin color. I like myself. Her music helped me see that.

Why I refused to hide my love for Taylor Swift: Growing up, especially middle school, people would be like, “Oh, Taylor Swift is for white people. You're whitewashed if you listen to Taylor Swift.” So some people were scared to show they like Taylor Swift or that kind of music, like white country songs. Deep down I'd feel uncomfortable and all that. But I was like, if I like her, I'm not gonna pretend. I just didn't care. 

I remember whenever I would go places and Taylor Swift would come on, people would be like “Oh, are you like, one of those Swifties? I wouldn't think you would listen to that kind of music” because I'm Black. But it's just music. When you listen to Drake or Lil Yachty, and you're not Black, I'm not gonna be like, Oh, you listen to that? There’s a double standard. 

What I say to the critics of her dancing and singing: I kind of understand because, yeah, there are other singers out there and their vocals are way better than her, same with her dancing skills. But the thing that I like about Taylor Swift is her lyrics. Not everyone can write like that. I think she has a nice voice, but even if she doesn’t have the most amazing voice in the world, there aren't that many singers like her out there that really put as much thought to the lyrics. You feel that deep in your heart, some of those lyrics. You’re like “damn,” and not a lot of people do that. 

On the Eras tour being a safe space: It’s pretty interesting. Because, like, sometimes you'll walk into a room if you're the only Black person, you're not sure what other people are thinking. You're thinking, Oh, what if they're judging me for being that one Black girl. But this is just a safe space.