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by Charles Tremblay

Black culture is everywhere, on runways, in music, even in the way people speak and move online. But the people who create it, especially Black women, are rarely protected when culture is copied, mocked, or commodified. This is especially apparent in K-pop, where Black aesthetics, from language to hairstyles, are often adopted without accountability. Though these “performances” are framed as admiration, they reveal something deeper: a global pattern of Black culture consumption, while Black people remain vulnerable. K-pop doesn’t just borrow Black culture; it reflects deeper systems that profit from Black aesthetics while distancing themselves from Black people. 

Many people discover Black culture through music, film, and the internet. However, exposure alone isn’t understanding or recognition. When culture is consumed without its context, it becomes disposable, something that people can enjoy without responsibility. Learning the histories behind Black culture in all its forms, from music traditions like the Blues, Country and Rock & Roll music to everyday practices, transforms that cultural consumption into something more meaningful. It turns passive enjoyment into awareness.

K-pop’s use of Black aesthetics isn’t just about style choice. It’s a reflection of a familiar power dynamic: Black culture becomes both profitable and visible, while Black people, especially Black women, continue to be stereotyped, under-protected, and easily ignored.

For example, from a young age, Black girls are subjected to forms of regulation that their white and Asian peers are not. Through a process called “adultification,” they are often perceived as older, more sexual, and less innocent, which leads to more scrutiny of their bodies and behaviors. Institutions like schools, churches, and media reinforce that perception, shaping how Black girlhood is understood and regulated. In contrast, when K-pop female artists adopt aesthetics associated with Black girlhood, they are still allowed to be seen as playful and youthful. What is denied to Black girls, like softness, protection, innocence, and freedom is granted to others performing their image.

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Similarly, Black hair has never been “just hair.” It’s deeply tied to survival, identity, and resistance. In fact, hairstyles such as braids and cornrows carry histories that are deeply shaped by survival, resistance, and identity. Even today, Black men and women are still living in discrimination for wearing it.

During the period of enslavement, cornrows could even be used to map escape routes and hide seeds. When those hairstyles are adopted without acknowledgment of the histories of resistance, survival, and discrimination attached to them, that history is erased.

Black women are still punished for wearing these traditionally Black hairstyles, even with legal policies like the CROWN Act, which prohibits race-based hair discrimination in workplaces. Yet, discrimination persists. A 2023  study revealed that Black women’s hair is 2.5 times more likely to be perceived as unprofessional when compared to other women. This contradiction shows how Black aesthetics can be celebrated globally while Black people’s bodies remain controlled and regulated, while K-pop idols are celebrated and rewarded, financially and with fame, for wearing the same hairstyles.

This pattern is far from new. The performance and distortion of Black culture for entertainment has deep historical roots. One of the most obvious historical examples is Minstrelsy, a 19th century practice in which white performers used blackface to caricature and mock Black people for entertainment.  Although Minstrelsy has mostly disappeared, Blackface has not. It has evolved digitally. Today, digital Blackface appears when non-Black people adopt Black expression, language and persona for entertainment while being disconnected from Black realities. The concept of digital Blackface is not limited to the United States. In 2023, contestants on a Polish TV show performed in Blackface while imitating artists like Beyoncé and Kendrick Lamar. 

This dynamic is key to understanding how Black women’s visibility is produced and consumed in today’s media. In this context, visibility is often mistaken for safety and protection, but for Black women, it often means harmful exposure to criticism, surveillance, and racialized judgment. 

Public figures like Serena Williams or GloRilla are regularly judged for being “too much” – too loud, too sexual, too masculine. These judgments are far from neutral. They are the reflections of a double standard that punishes Black women for the same things that others are celebrated for. This pattern is reinforced in K-pop, where artists use African American Vernacular English (AAVE) and incorporate selective elements of Blackness, such as slang, mannerism, and vocal delivery into their personal brand.

This extends beyond K-pop,  For example, figures like Awkwafina have been criticized for performing Blackness through language but distancing themselves from it when there is backlash, showing how Black culture can be adopted without the inclusion of Black people. Similarly, members of the group Kiss of Life have been criticized for livestreams in which they imitated Black speech, style, and mannerisms in ways that reinforce stereotypes and blur the line between admiration and mockery.

At the same time, K-pop artists, such as BLACKPINK or Kiss of Life, have worn braids, grillz, and adopted elements of Black speech, often referred to as a “blaccent,” and are widely celebrated for it. Similar patterns can be seen in Western media, where figures like the Kardashian family have profited from Black aesthetics while Black women continue to face stigma for the same expressions.

RELATED: How TikTok is ushering in yet another way for youths to don “Digital Blackface”

This issue reveals a deeper truth: Black women’s culture is often celebrated and admired while Black women are still policed and diminished. These celebrations are often made without Black women and girls being present. This cannot be considered genuine cultural appreciation.

A common misconception is that Black culture simply “spreads” globally. In reality, Black culture is often exported through systems of racial capitalism across the world. The difference? Exporting culture is very different from a process of mutual cultural exchange. Under racial capitalism as the scholar Cedric Robinson argues, it is impossible to dissociate capitalism from racism since capitalism was created on racial structure, using the human capital to accumulate capital. Black culture is commodified and circulated globally for profit, while Black communities themselves often remain excluded from institutional power. 

In this case, it is important to remember that Black American soldiers fought alongside Koreans during the deadly Korean War, bringing Black culture through music, style and even through cooking. This helped shape South Korea’s early exposure to Black culture, long before the emergence of K-pop. However that cultural exchange has evolved to the circulation of Black culture under racial capitalism.

The way the world engages with Black culture matters. Black feminist scholarship, like the words of bell hooks and Patricia Hill Collins,  reminds us that Blackness and Black culture are not resources freely available for profit, imitation, or unrestricted use. When Black culture and Black women’s bodies are treated as public domain, they circulate without accountability. The question isn’t if Black culture will continue to influence the globe, it already does.

The real question is: are the people who create that influence going to be protected, recognized, and empowered?

Charles N. Tremblay (he/him) is a student based in Quebec, Canada, currently a student in Politics Science and Economics at Laval University. He developed a strong interest and foundation in Black feminism with Dr. Casidy Campbell during his time at The Ohio State University, which continues to shape his thoughts and works on culture, power, and global systems. His works critically analyze how Black culture is commodified under racial capitalism especially in the case of K-pop, while reflecting a continuous commitment to learning and critical self-reflection. He also likes to write poems and work with emerging artists in Quebec.

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