I am a Black feminist.

I am fighting white patriarchy and the negative impacts of sexism, racism, and class discrimination. Therefore, when I see a movie that centers a cishet, able-bodied white girl or white woman and her journey to feminism and activism, while being simultaneously naive to the struggles of her comrades of different races, ethnicities, and gender identities, I just have to shake my head…yet again.

There were several amazing characters and beautiful parts of Moxie on Netflix. But all I could think about the entire movie was how much better it would have been centering Afro-Latina character, Lucy, and her life outside of school. New, outspoken student Lucy was harassed almost immediately by the main, beloved white jock and identified him as “dangerous”. The main white girl Vivian, however, didn’t miss a beat invalidating Lucy by replying, “I don’t think he’s dangerous; he’s just annoying”.

Sounds about white.

Lucy then went to the principal, school leadership, for help and was completely dismissed and devalued in favor of whiteness and money given to the school. 

I am Lucy. Lucy is me. 

The movement of Moxie became Lucy’s safe space but the audience was somehow expected to connect with Vivian?

Also, race and privilege were only directly addressed twice in the film. The unexpected moment, in my opinion, came after the loyal, Asian best friend, Claudia, didn’t snitch and ended up getting expelled as the scapegoat for the creation of Moxie. She called Vivian out for being unaware of all she was dealing with because of her privilege to take risks but then hide like a coward while others took the fall. Truth.

In the final scene of the film, Vivian announces to the school that, “I do not fit the prototype of a leader in any way but here I am anyways”. Girl. You are exactly the prototype: stealing ideas from and taking for granted the labor of Black women all while dodging accountability but maintaining a leadership role. Should I spell this out in fireworks or…

Vivian had the privilege to sporadically wear her “rebellious feminism” the same way she slipped on that leather jacket she found in her mother’s closet. If only it was that easy for BIPoc women to slip in and out of our skins to better navigate the oppressions of everyday life.