Challenging Patriarchal Narratives: The Stories of Sister Rosetta Tharpe and Roxanne Shante - Part One.

Chuck Berry is widely regarded as one of the progenitors and key sources of inspiration for the Blues-infused genre of music known as Rock 'n' Roll. Alongside other iconic Black American artists like Little Richard, he helped shape the genre that would later take the world by storm and propel the likes of Elvis Presley, The Beatles, and Eric Clapton to superstardom.

It’s crucial to note, though, that while Black music—specifically Blues and gospel—formed the foundation of Rock, this genre has been so heavily appropriated by White male artists that it’s hard to recognize that Black men built the very house in which Elvis would later lounge. Despite this, it was Elvis, not Chuck nor Little Richard, who was crowned the "King of Rock 'n' Roll."

Elvis became famous, largely by re-recording classics by Black artists like Big Mama Thornton’s “Hound Dog,” and by mimicking established performance styles like the “Duck Walk,” which Chuck Berry famously made his own.

The owner of Sun Records, the label that first recorded Elvis and Johnny Cash, is quoted as saying, "If I could find a White man who had the Negro sound, I could make a million dollars." And, sure enough, he did. This statement highlights not just the appropriation of Black culture by White male artists, but also the broader patriarchal structure of the music industry—and society as a whole.

When Chuck Berry received his Hall of Fame induction, he openly acknowledged that his “whole career has been an impersonation of Sister Rosetta Tharpe.” This raises the question: when did Rosetta begin her own career?

Known as the 'Godmother of Rock 'n' Roll,' Sister Rosetta Tharpe arguably deserves the title of the Parent of Rock. While Ike Turner’s keys on the 1951 song “Rocket 88” are often credited with sparking the flames of what would become Rock, many of the genre's defining elements can be traced back to Rosetta’s songs from the late 1930s, such as “Rock Me” and the iconic “Didn't It Rain.”

What emerges from this is the understanding that Blackness itself faces multiple barriers, but these obstacles are even greater for Black femininity. While Black masculinity, though still marginalized, has a clearer path to recognition, Black women remain largely overlooked in the narrative of cultural innovation. This speaks to a deeper, systemic issue where the last spaces of acknowledgment and acclaim are reserved for Black feminine figures—if they’re acknowledged at all.