The Grammy Debate (Cowboy Carter Edition)

~a short story ~

The dorm elevator had never moved slower. Imani tapped her foot, staring at the glowing floor number like she could make it move faster with sheer willpower. Bri leaned against the wall, arms crossed, scrolling through the digital battlefield that was Twitter.

“I can’t believe we’re stuck in this tin can while people are out here saying Beyoncé didn’tdeserve Cowboy Carter’s win,” Imani huffed.

Bri glanced up. “You’re really starting this again?”

“Yes! Because I’m mad! Like, what more does she have to do? Win a rodeo? Wrangle a

mechanical bull on stage? Sing while lassoing the Recording Academy president?”

Bri snorted. “I mean, I’d pay to see that.”

Imani threw up her hands. “Girl, she already gave them country perfection, took a historically racist genre and made it Black again, brought in Linda Martell, covered Jolene like it was a warning shot—what else do these people want?”

Bri shrugged. “Apparently, they wanted Billie. ”

Imani groaned dramatically. “Oh my God. Look, Billie’s album was cool or whatever, but it wasn’t Cowboy Carter. Beyoncé literally redefined an entire genre and made country—the most ‘you can’t sit with us’ genre in America—open its doors to Black artists again.”

Bri sighed, putting her phone away. “I mean, yeah. But it’s not Billie’s fault she won in the past and now her fans think she’s entitled to win every time.”

“True. But her fans are out here acting like Beyoncé took Billie’s last meal. The way they’re whining, you’d think Bey robbed her at gunpoint instead of fairly winning an award she’s earned 28 times over.”

Bri shook her head. “And the worst part is, Billie knows Beyoncé deserved it! She was

practically apologizing while accepting the award last time. Her own fans are making it weird.”

“EXACTLY,” Imani exclaimed. “They don’t get that when they go this hard against Black artists—especially ones who’ve had to fight for recognition—it makes Billie look complicit in the same industry bias she doesn’t support.”

Bri sighed. “It’s giving ‘I have a Black friend but—’ energy.”

Imani cackled. “Girl, it’s giving ‘I went to the Renaissance tour, but— ’”

They both dissolved into laughter just as the elevator dinged. Finally.

As the doors slid open, Imani stepped out, still shaking her head. “People need to realize that defending their fave shouldn’t mean tearing down Black success. Beyoncé’s win isn’t just about her—it’s about shifting the culture.”

Bri nodded. “Right. And honestly? Cowboy Carter deserved that Grammy. Period.”

“PERIOD!” Imani echoed dramatically, nearly bumping into a girl in cowboy boots walking past.

Bri smirked. “You sure you don’t wanna buy a hat now?”

Imani side-eyed her. “I’m one viral Beyoncé moment away from a whole Yeehaw Agenda wardrobe."

They both laughed, heading to their dorm, already debating what Beyoncé song they’d play first when they got inside.