Last night, Bravo aired the finale episode of Ms. Kenya Moore’s inaugural twirl as a real housewife of Atlanta. And it, of course, was histrionically wonderful. Now, Moore has been at the center of several dramatic conflicts this season, serving beef to Kandi, my beloved Phaedra Parks, esq., and fellow rookie castmate, Porsha. Many have expressed their disdain for Ms. Moore’s antics, calling her mad dramatic and extra. I beg to differ, though.
Kenya Moore is not simply good television, she is and should be the latest black woman in the public eye who deserves a community of support. We should speak Kenya’s name both as a mantra and as a reminder of her history-making. If we are to declare ourselves lovers and supporters of black women, we must not only embrace and console Porsha as she frees herself from the talons of a situation wherein she was controlled, but work to understand Kenya’s struggles and triumphs as they were shown each Sunday night. Consider this blog a call to black feminist arms. I make this declaration not simply because Ms. Moore honored iconic black women in film–without making anyone show up as Mo’Nique or Viola Davis–but also for the following compelling reasons: