SHIAVON’S JAWN: Tinder is hell for Black women


Robbie Pierce

Photo Illustration

Shiavon Chatman, Opinion editor

A jawn. Pronounced jôn. Noun. A person, place, thing, or event that doesn’t need a specific name. An indescribable, but memorable entity.

I’m Shiavon and this is Shiavon’s Jawn. (If these two words don’t rhyme, then you’re saying my name wrong.)

It’s amazing to think what Maxine Shaw from “Living Single” (the blacker, better, and original “Friends” for my ill-informed readers) would have done with Tinder. This woman taught me men come second to your happiness, your work and your friends. 

But she always preached sexual autonomy.  Tinder would have been her playground. 

Tinder is a penis-on-demand app. Some find love, while others find STI’s and awkward encounters with potential Tinder boos that shit on your career choices. That last one seems a bit specific, only because of course, it happened to me. 

I hate Tinder, not because I’m a slut-shaming prude, but because liking men is one of my few personality flaws.

I redownloaded the app like I promised, but was disgusted in seconds. I had several questions that probably won’t ever get answered. 

RELATED: SHIAVON’S JAWN: A hot girl summer turned hot mess

Why is every white boy on this app named Kyle or Cody? Why does every guy with a patchy, dry beard love to hunt? And why is having “The Office” in your Netflix queue supposed to impress me? (I mean, it does, but that’s not the point.) 

Male interaction drains me like a hot summer day, but I powered through. 

I had a pretty great conversation with this one guy. We go to the same school, he didn’t talk shit about my Prius and he too thought “Love and Basketball” was 99 percent toxic masculinity and 1 percent love and basketball. Do I hear wedding bells?

He asked what my major was. I said journalism and he unmatched with me. 

Was it something I said? 

Maybe he was afraid I’d write about him from my perspective for the world to see. Or maybe he didn’t have the comprehension skills to understand all the fake news I was going to write in the future. Guess we’ll never know.

This app is terrible. Not because of the increased risk of being murdered by meeting up with a complete stranger, but the incessant small talk and expectation of coyness makes my skin crawl. 

I would rather be stranded in the worst airport in the country (Newark, obviously) on a 10-hour layover in the winter with a dead phone and no charger, than work for a man’s attention. 

Be smart out here ladies. 

The men on Tinder will slide into your DM’s begging for sex, but if the roles are reversed, you are gifted the title “hoe.” 

Congratulations, hoe. 

My friend started messaging guys on Tinder first with a simple “DTF?” The responses were hilarious to say the least. 

They ranged from “that’s not very lady-like” to asking her how many sexually transmitted infections she had. My favorite? “Your dad probably hates you. Slut. Lmfao.” 

Good one, Cody.  

Sexual autonomy is the idea of a person taking complete control of when, where and with whom they have sex with. 

Women in hip-hop have been practicing sexual autonomy as early as the 1980s, from Queens rapper Roxanne Shante all way to Houston rapper Megan Thee Stallion. Jermaine Dupri said the current wave of female rappers are “like strippers rapping.” 

This was so shocking to me, because I honestly did not know Jermaine Dupri was still alive. Him giving us Bow Wow was uncalled for and reckless. I thought he went gently into that good night. So this was news to me. 

Anyway, I don’t like the idea of “female rappers.” If you’re a rapper, you’re rapper.

Nicki Minaj outraps every male she’s on a feature with, so we don’t need to be distinctive about her gender. Lastly, this generation of rappers like Megan Thee Stallion, Rico Nasty, Tierra Whack, Kash Doll and so many more, are bold and brave. 

But most importantly, they are self-proclaimed sexual beings. Women shouldn’t feel guilty for enjoying sex or not enjoying sex. 

Whether you’re on Tinder or grossed out like me, always put your happiness first. 

You can always be attracted to emotionally unavailable men who buy you cheap wine, like me. It is definitely an exciting roller coaster. 

This is my weekly column where I’ll keep you updated on my straight-to-DVD life, my hip-hop snob opinions, being uncomfortable in this political climate and being a black woman in predominantly white spaces.