Empress of the Blues: Bessie Smith’s Roaring Legacy and Fierce Fights

What’s goodies yall! It’s your girl, Cerinass Willdohim,  feeling the spirit of a true icon today. You know, a girl like me loves a good ballad.  When I’m belting out a number on stage, sometimes I close my eyes and feel the echoes of the queens who came before me. And one voice, louder and prouder than most, belongs to the legendary Bessie Smith. She was the “Empress of the Blues,” a force of nature, and a Black queer woman navigating the wild, tumultuous 1920s. Let’s dive into her story, honey, because it’s a masterclass in resilience and raw talent.

A Voice That Defined an Era: Her Achievements

Born in Chattanooga, Tennessee, Bessie’s voice was a guttural, powerful instrument that perfectly captured the joys, sorrows, and defiance of early 20th-century Black American life. She started performing young, honed her craft on the minstrel circuit, and by the 1920s, she was the undisputed queen of the blues.

She signed with Columbia Records in 1923 and quickly became one of the highest-paid Black artists of her time. Her first record, “Downhearted Blues,” sold an astonishing 800,000 copies in just six months! Over a decade, she recorded nearly 200 songs, becoming a massive commercial success and a cultural touchstone.

She starred in the 1929 short film “St. Louis Blues,” cementing her status as a multimedia star. Bessie was a superstar, honey. She sold records, packed houses, and commanded respect wherever she went. But being a Black woman, and a queer woman, in the Jazz Age meant her life was far from easy.

Bessie’s life was a constant battle against the rigid societal norms of her time:

This is where my heart really connects with Bessie. Bessie Smith was openly bisexual/lesbian, engaging in relationships with women throughout her life, including her frequent partner Gertrude Saunders. This was not accepted. Homosexuality was criminalized, condemned by society, and hidden away. Yet, Bessie lived her truth, even if it meant risking legal trouble, public scorn, or worse. She faced police raids at her parties, and her relationships with women were often scandalous in the eyes of the public and media. She existed defiantly outside the heteronormative box.

As a strong, independent woman in a male-dominated industry and society, she faced sexism. She managed her own tours, fiercely protected her earnings, and refused to be exploited, which was unheard of for many female artists then.

Even as a headliner, Bessie couldn’t escape Jim Crow. She traveled extensively in segregated America, facing separate entrances, hotels, and constant indignities. Her wealth didn’t buy her freedom from racism; it just highlighted the absurdity of it. Imagine being a millionaire and still unable to use a white-only bathroom. It’s sickening.

The economic crash of the great depression hit the entertainment industry hard. By the early 1930s, record sales plummeted, and the popularity of vaudeville and blues waned, impacting her career and finances.
Bessie didn’t just sing about the blues; she lived them. Her music was an outlet for her experiences, a testament to her triumphs and her pain. She wasn’t just a singer; she was a survivor, a trailblazer, and a queen who dared to live authentically when the world demanded conformity. Her very existence, her voice, and her refusal to hide her queer identity were radical acts of resistance.

We owe so much to the Empress of Blues. She opened doors not just for future musicians, but for anyone who dares to be their full, unadulterated self in a world that tries to shrink them.

Love out loud and proud, and think of Bessie

Cerinass Willdohim
XOXO