Why my views on raceplay content are a bit more nuanced
Warning: contains instances of racial slur(s) spelled out completely.
I think I had just barely turned 18 when I was first exposed to the raceplay kink online. It was back during the heyday of the Yahoo® Messenger chatrooms—the original Wild West of the Internet—and the supposed female that I was speaking to all of a sudden started making references to my “nigger dick”.
It came up again a while back during a private cam show. The cam model, upon seeing my penis, claimed that she could not help herself and started saying “nigger cock”. I was not angry or annoyed, but rather bemused. It just took me by surprise.
The kink is more prevalent—and more popular—than anyone would think. From seemingly benign usage of “big black cock” or “big white cock” to the most visceral usage of (apparently) consensual use of slurs, the raceplay kink ranges from sexually charged banter to a transgressive form of entertainment for the purposes of humiliation.
Why I stay away from producing raceplay content
As a Black producer, I am well aware that creating content that incorporates social taboos can to be lucrative; after all, porn is seen as transgressive and the limits are always being pushed. The visceral and toxic discussion of racial matters is a turn on for some creators, some producers, and some consumers. There is a certain pleasure that comes with transgressive, albeit in a supposedly controlled and sensual environment. Hell, one could observe this in the explosion in recent years of “CNC” or “consensual non-consensual” content.
Personally, I do not produce raceplay content. Aside from a handful of cuckold videos where I allowed the model to make references to “BBC”, I avoid writing scripts where Black Venom TV creators make any reference to any ethnicity except to describe themselves—i.e. “my big white ass” or “my big black ass”.
The majority of the talent I have employed with Black Venom TV—past and present, White and non-White talent—have created raceplay content, sold raceplay content, or acknowledged doing raceplay in their private cam shows. I think that’s the talent’s own business, regardless of how I personally feel about the genre. While I am not in the business of telling a creator or producer how to make a living, it does not mean they will be excused from criticism in the event something is taken too far.
In other words, I have not—nor am I ever going to—fire someone from the Black Venom TV cast over it. However, any creator that makes raceplay content a cornerstone of their brand will not be featured on Black Venom TV.
On a personal level, being called a racial slur does not bother me. In fact, I almost consider it informative because it allows me to know what kind of individual that person is when they say it to me. As I’ve always said, the exuberant, vocal racist has no problems showing their ass; the one that concerns me is the genteel racist that will dine with me, work with me, and then actively work to keep me from advancing in society because they do not like the idea of Blackness in power.
What do I actually think of the raceplay content genre
So what are my feelings, as Black producer, about raceplay as a genre?
Well…
I find the raceplay genre to be tacky.
It’s fucking tacky.
Is it acting? Yes—pornography, hardcore, kink, or fetish—is a performance art. But I just find it tacky.
However, before I expand into why I find it tacky, I have to address the elephant in the room.
Let’s talk about the meaning of being racist. Personally, I find the word to be thrown around a little too liberally, while at the same time, I also believe that actual racism is being downplayed too frequently. If someone is a racist, that means they hold a prejudice against a particular group, typically negative. A racist feels that there are distinct qualities about a particular racial and/or ethnic group that is a determinant one’s value and worth as a human being. Racism is the social construct that emerges from racist attitudes.
Those that defend the raceplay genre consider it to be acting. After all, there are plenty of movies out there featuring various actors of various ethnic backgrounds portraying racist characters. In their eyes, filming raceplay content, as original content or a custom for consumer, is no different than an actor being paid to play a (racist) role.
Yes, raceplay is acting, or is it…?
I can buy the argument that producing raceplay content is, technically, acting. However, there’s a significant difference between acting in regards to performing a fantasy and acting as part of executing a piece of an overall plot. Quentin Tarantino’s bit part as Jimmie in the 1994 classic film Pulp Fiction was noted for his extensive use of racial slurs to describe the man that Jules (Samuel L. Jackson) and Vincent (John Travolta) killed. However, Tarantino was clearly playing a role of a distinct character that was an essential to one of the three plots of the film—he introduced Harvey Keitel’s “cleaner” character.
The question that arises when it comes to acting out certain fantasies is how much does said fantasy reflect the personal attitudes of the creator and/or consumer? Do they see other races and/or ethnicities as kinks and fetishes all the time? What feeling towards certain ethnicities do they have when they are not aroused? Is the prejudice and bias already there and the fantasy is just an extension of that?
Turning immutable characteristics about human beings into kinks and fetishes is one part the result of our social construct and another part a consequence of the human condition. Porn is an extension of both.
The bottom line view I have is…
The bottom line? I hold the view that the raceplay genre is tacky because it involves catering to fantasies that are centered upon some of the worst aspects of humanity. It is not just about saying a while bunch of fucking slurs; it is an attempt to cater to consumers who possess views about certain racial or ethnic groups that could be deemed toxic.
As an industry that is under target from trashy morality crusaders and others that have narrow-minded views on human sexuality, the idea that we should be creating and selling content to pander to the fucked up attitudes of consumers is unsettling to me. Acting as a racist to fulfill a fantasy is far removed from portraying a racist as part of a storytelling device. It is not the same thing and it should not be excused as such.
I also have heard the excuse of “Well, the person that ordered this is (insert ethnicity here).” Well, let’s ask the following question: Is what being asked for ultimately toxic? If the person that orders that content is (insert ethnicity here) and the content was created to basically shit on the fact that they are (insert ethnicity here), at some point producers and creators have to ask whether or not they really want to cater to someone’s toxicity.
I am all about being a safe place for consumers to explore aspects of their sexuality. But I feel that when we get to the point where we are lambasting immutable characteristics in the name of fulfilling fantasies as a means of entertainment, it moves from being a healthy exploration of sexuality and pleasure to unhealthy and problematic.
If a Black consumer came to me and asked me to produce content that would feature a White performer railing against their Blackness, then I would reject it. If a White consumer requested that I would make “BNWO” content, then I would refuse. All of it would involve creating content to fulfill the consumer’s fantasy that is rooted in concerning attitudes they have towards other ethnicities as well as themselves. Some kinks are just fucking toxic.
You do you, but understand what you’re putting out there
Here’s the deal. If you are a producer or a creator that decides to participate in the raceplay genre, then that is your business. If you make a lot of money doing that, then that is your business. But I will say this: it is hard to fight the toxicity that is facing our industry by catering to consumers that have toxic fantasies.
If you are a consumer of raceplay content that reads this, then I implore you to re-evaluate your own attitudes about certain racial groups and ethnicities, including your own. While you may be turned on by the transgressive nature of the fantasy, there are underlying questions that you have to be comfortable with asking yourself. I’m not going to judge because I assuredly do not know who you are, but I do suggest you be honest to yourself about what is at the root of your tastes.