The Stonewall Uprising in Manhattan has been dubbed the catalyst for creating change for the LGBTQ+ community. Over 50 years ago, the queer community at Stonewall Inn decided they had enough of police harassment and they decided to fight back like never before. With bottles, coins, and stones, they literally fought for their civil and human rights — enough was enough. It wasn’t the first time this occurred but there was something different about this riot on June 28, 1969. From then on, the last Sunday in June was celebrated as “Gay Pride Day” and it became a month-long galvanization that we now know as Pride Month.
Pride Month is more than rainbow flags, discounts, and corporate sponsorships. It’s about honoring a community that deserves celebration because love is love. The Library of Congress says, “The purpose of the commemorative month is to recognize the impact that lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender individuals have had on history locally, nationally, and internationally.” And for queer, Black folx it means truly acknowledging intersectionality. To honor some of those beautiful beings, we asked Black queer womxn what Pride means to them, how they show up as their full selves, and what we can do to better celebrate this community during June.
Pronouns: She, Her
Bridgette Young and her wife Veronica Paige
Courtesy of Bridgette Young
What Pride Month means to her:
Pride Month means the celebration of everyone who is like me who embraces a different sexual orientation separate from traditional standards. It’s a time for me to reflect on the community that has fought for the opportunities we currently have--such as marriage and protection from discrimination, although we still have work to do. Consequently, Pride month is a time to cultivate processes and pathways to enable and maintain longevity and continuous progress in the Black queer community.
Finally, visibility and the opportunity to shine at our full potential in personal and professional settings are key elements to success; because when we are loved, accepted, and respected— then we can truly be our authentic selves and rise to excellence.
What she loves most about being Black and queer:
Being Black and queer is truly a beautiful thing. Even though I was born and raised in Jamaica in a multicultural home, I was driven by the strength I saw in my mother and sisters. This motivated me to be a very strong and independent individual who thrives for success in all my endeavors and to be proud of who I am even with my differences.
I feel a sense of power and boldness embodied in immense creativity within our community. The Miami Black Pride Community is close-knit and supportive of the community’s accomplishments. This is something to be delighted and grateful for because support sometimes can be staggering.
How she celebrates Pride Month and makes it her own:
I make Pride Month my own by being more impactful with my visibility. I do this by participating in Pride Month activities at work, attending Pride Month events with my wife Veronica Paige, and living my truth by being my unapologetic authentic self. Last month, on May 24, 2022, Veronica and I got married. We have numerous publications covering our journey to marriage both locally in the U.S. and internationally.
As a multi-racial lesbian woman in America with Jamaican heritage, the intent is to create a platform through exposure and advocate for those who may be considering a similar journey as well as educate the audience who might lack understanding.
What she would like to see change about the celebration of Pride:
Even though we have celebrated many victories in the U.S., there is still lots of work to be done. There are still countless people within our community that face discrimination daily. Threats to queer life don’t have to be deadly, even though many times they are. They also include denied access to employment and healthcare, and forbidden acknowledgment and support to youth in schools. Minority groups are most affected, and frequently they are shunned by their families and end up homeless. The rejection within our community often leads to mental issues causing drug use and depression which is a cause of concern that need to be assessed and addressed.
Also, corporate America should do a better job at standing with the LGBTQ+ community-- not only during Pride Month but all 12 months of the year as active allies. Corporate companies are visible during Pride Month with market-focused ad campaigns and merchandising for profit. However, impactful support is needed in advocating for the queer community to protect our rights against politicians and states who are implementing laws to silence our community in schools and at work i.e. “Don’t Say Gay." Despite the current political climate, I have never seen a more enlightened and nurturing queer community. We are finally lifting as we carry, and I am honored to be a part of this community and to continue the work.
"Threats to queer life don’t have to be deadly, even though many times they are. Minority groups are most affected, and frequently they are shunned by their families and end up homeless. The rejection within our community often leads to mental issues causing drug use and depression which is a cause of concern that need to be assessed and addressed."
Poet, Singer, Songwriter
Pronouns: All
Courtesy of Kerrie Joy
What Pride Month means to them:
It means a month of reflection, remembrance, and mourning. It means rainbows, colorful store aisles, and bold expression. It means facing fears, counting blessings, and kicking down doors. It means coming outs, second chances, and firmer boundaries. I mean, these things happen daily but I do believe we become more hyper-aware and hyper-focused on them during this month. More than anything, this month, I do challenge myself a bit more to walk with my head higher, to be less apologetic, and to truly exist in Pride.
What they love most about being Black and queer:
The love, joy, and comfort that comes with being myself, unapologetically.
How they celebrate and make it their own:
I think it’s vital to celebrate all of the time. I stay in my pockets of dope, Black queer womxn where we see each other and validate each other because the world around us tends to find ways to erase us. So I surround myself with dope Black womxn and we celebrate every moment we can.
What they would like to see change about the celebration of Pride:
In general, I’d love to see the stories of Black, brown, and Indigenous people being centered in national Pride events, conversations, legislation, etc. The reality of intersectionality and compounded marginalization requires that we focus on those who have been closest to oppression. We don’t tend to practice that on a national level with Pride. We don’t really see it locally either. However, I do see certain people trying. I was happy to see when Pride in Denver moved its weekend because of Juneteenth.
But then again, that should already be one of the most celebrated moments of liberation in this country. Either way, we definitely have work to do if our Black queer and trans women are still one of the most targeted populations with personal and systemic violence. Until their worlds are safe, it’s impossible that any of ours truly could be. You should go out of your way to give love, reparations, and/or honor to a Black girl today. It’ll bless you.
"The reality of intersectionality and compounded marginalization requires that we focus on those who have been closest to oppression. We don’t tend to practice that on a national level with Pride. Either way, we definitely have work to do if our Black queer and trans women are still one of the most targeted populations with personal and systemic violence. Until their worlds are safe, it’s impossible that any of ours truly could be."
Content Creator for the LGBTQ and Body Positivity communities
Pronouns: She, Her
Courtesy of Kyanna Alexandra
What Pride Month means to her:
When I think of what Pride Month means to me, I think of freedom and the power it brings to myself and everyone else who is celebrating this Pride season, whether they're out or not. Pride to me means that I can present myself in any way that I see fit that is true to me, as well as a reminder that we as LGBTQ people are still fighting for basic human rights. We're constantly in a battle and at war with people who don't understand how queer people live, nor do they wish to accept us. So Pride Month as a whole is a constant reminder that we still have work to do, no matter how much progress has been made. I also feel a sense of entitlement, and I'm not sure where that comes from, but I know when June first rolls around, I know it's all about me and the LGBTQ community, and how we as queer people make this world a happier place simply by being ourselves. Also, we party the best.
What she loves most about being Black and queer:
What I love most about being Black and queer is the uniqueness that it brings and the diversity that comes with it. While I know that both are celebrated and hated in some spaces, it doesn't stop me from feeling powerful and in charge of myself. There's something rich and undyingly beautiful about being Black and a woman. My Blackness is powerful, it commands rooms and it puts fear in people who see Black as a threat. In the same breath, my queerness is fun and exciting. It's the extra cherry on top when people see my Black ass walk into a room, and to announce that I'm queer is exhilarating because I know it's another layer for people to understand and educate themselves about me and how I represent myself within both identities.
How she celebrates Pride Month and makes it her own:
When I celebrate Pride, I celebrate the entire month of June so hard and so fiercely that come July 1, I'm tired but in a good way. Pride Month is a great time for me to connect with other LGBTQ content creators, a way to attend parties that cater to the LGBTQ community and of course, attend the multiple parades across the state. But aside from attending parties and parades, I also like to attend events where queer people are the focus, such as panels, mixers, and networking functions. Being involved in the community and taking advantage of the hundreds of get-togethers that one can attend or get invited to is a way where I make Pride my own.
What she would like to see change about the celebration of Pride:
There are a couple of things that I would like to see changed when it comes to the celebration of Pride. One of the biggest things that annoy me, and probably a lot of other people, is the rainbow capitalism that happens rapidly throughout the last week of May. Companies rush to push out their Pride merchandise, of course, in hopes that LGBTQ consumers purchase them, but I can't help to believe that if a company isn't genuine about celebrating LGBTQ people 365 days out of the year, then I find the acts performative and leech-worthy to make a quick buck from the community.
The second thing that I feel needs to change is a bit more specific and comes within the content creation. Companies want to show their inclusivity by hiring us to promote their brand/business during Pride Month, but want to pay us in product and not for our time in creating the piece of content with a list of deliverables. Furthermore, companies undercut us as LGBTQ creators by not paying us our worth. It's things like these that create a gap between members of the LGBTQ community and those that are not. We are human, and we deserve to be paid as such and not any lesser due to the category we fall into.
We all get to celebrate Pride in whatever way we deem fit. No matter what happens, no matter what we go through in life, there is always a light at the end of the tunnel. I thought I would never get the chance to see the day when I go to Pride events and parties and meet people within the community because I didn't know where to start. I am the first and only person in my family to be a member of the LGBTQ community, and after what I have been through with my mother disowning me, it's days like these I thought I would never see, and I appreciate them the most.
"There's something rich and undyingly beautiful about being Black and a woman. My Blackness is powerful, it commands rooms and it puts fear in people who see Black as a threat. In the same breath, my queerness is fun and exciting. It's the extra cherry on top when people see my Black ass walk into a room, and to announce that I'm queer is exhilarating."
Pronouns: She, Her
Courtesy of JasandTee
What Pride Month means to JasandTee:
To us, Pride means so much more than a celebration, it's more than rainbows and parades. Pride is something we all have inside us. It's a way of life. It's our journeys, our past, and our future. Pride is who we are or who we ought to be. Most people aren't fully comfortable with who they are. If you spend 11 months not feeling comfortable or aligned within yourself, let the month of June be the one month you get out there and celebrate yourself, your boldness, your queerness, your rights, and your purpose. Pride is the voice for the ones who can't find their own.
What they love most about being Black and queer:
Being Black and queer is our identity and it makes us so proud to know how supple our ancestors were. What we love most about being Black and queer is the fact that we get to be a positive representation of what love looks like. Growing up, Black love wasn’t something you saw advertised. In fact, in most cases, most movies or shows reflected dysfunction within the Black community and Black households. Being able to love out loud is one of the best things that happened to us. Hiding our true selves is a form of dysfunction. Today, we are breaking that cycle by living in our truth. By being unapologetically Black and queer.
How they celebrate Pride Month and make it their own:
Jas and I celebrate Pride by going to some of our favorite stores like Target and Old Navy to shop their Pride collection. We also like to go to our local Pride events with some of our closest friends.
What they would like to see change about the celebration of Pride:
We would like to see more heterosexual people celebrate Pride. You don’t have to be a part of the LGBTQ+ community to celebrate queer individuals. We say this because most people can attest to knowing someone who is queer and no matter their place in your life they should be celebrated. Choosing to stay silent in fear of association isn’t much of a celebration.
Being content creators has allowed us to tap into advocacy. Having a platform has also allowed us to connect with more people than ever before. Hearing all the stories and watching the growth of our followers has inspired us to continue to be a voice in our LGBTQ+ community. Our goal is to be able to reach people all over the world. This entire journey has been eye-opening. We realized how much exclusion and discrimination the LGBTQ+ community face on a daily basis.
"What we love most about being Black and queer is the fact that we get to be a positive representation of what love looks like. Being able to love out loud is one of the best things that happened to us. Hiding our true selves is a form of dysfunction. Today, we are breaking that cycle by living in our truth. By being unapologetically Black and queer."
Community Builder, Radio Host, Social Media Guru, DJ
Pronouns: She, Her
Courtesy of Demi Harvey
What Pride Month means to her:
Pride Month is a celebration of life, love, community, and resistance. It’s an opportunity to live life to the fullest and share in that joy with others.
What she loves most about being Black and queer:
My uniqueness! My experience is one of a kind. It’s a blending of cultures. It is everything.
How she celebrates and makes Pride Month her own:
I love trying new things, visiting new spaces, and meeting new people so I make a point of that every Pride. Expanding my horizons and getting out of my comfort zone.
What she wants to see change about the celebration of Pride:
I want my people to feel safe and free to be themselves. There’s lots of ways in which that is challenged at national Pride celebrations, but I want queer people to know that there is community out there for you beyond national Pride celebrations.
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Featured image courtesy of Kyanna Alexander
Joce Blake is a womanist who loves fashion, Beyonce and Hot Cheetos. The sophistiratchet enthusiast is based in Brooklyn, NY but has southern belle roots as she was born and raised in Memphis, TN. Keep up with her on Instagram @joce_blake and on Twitter @SaraJessicaBee.
The Mecca Of Fashion: The Top Street Style Moments At Howard Homecoming
Outfits were planned, bags were packed, and cameras were ready to capture Howard University's collegiate spirit during its centennial Homecoming celebration. Not only does it hold the number one ranking as the most elite Historically Black College and University or its top performing academics, diversity of students and alumni, but the HBCU also leaves a legacy of style and grace.
The essence of effortless poise and refinement shines bright through the iconic university colors of indigo blue, red, and white. Every October, Howard University students, alumni, staff, and friends gather on the prestigious campus in Washington, D.C. to take part in time-honored traditions and events, which is Homecoming. This year's theme, “The Meccaverse,” was a week-long celebration of Howard University’s heritage, including the Homecoming football game and Bison Pep Rally, the Fashion Show, Greek Life Step Show, Homecoming Day of Service, Lavender Reception, and the iconic Yard Fest Concert.
As 2024 marked the 100th anniversary of the Howard Bison trek back to The Mecca and after two years of virtual events due to the COVID-19 pandemic, this was to be a celebration of a lifetime. We enlisted HU alumnus Sharmaine Harris, a luxury retail buyer, as she revisited her alma mater as eyes on the yard for fashion-forward outfits mixed with personal style and campus pride for the weeklong celebration.
Before we get to the looks, discover how attending Howard University impacted her career in fashion and her day-to-day style:
Credit: Sharmaine and Friends
xoNecole: Describe your personal style. Did attending Howard have any impact on developing it?
Sharmaine: Howard taught me that there’s no such thing as being TOO dressed. There’s always a reason to “put it on” and look presentable, even if it’s just for a day of classes. Standing out was celebrated and encouraged with my peers embracing the opportunity, giving me the confidence to try new styles and trends.
xoNecole: How did Howard shape your career as a luxury buyer?
Sharmaine: I studied Fashion Merchandising, through which I was fortunate to have professors who were very connected to the industry and able to give first-hand accounts of opportunities and what to expect post-college. I was also able to build a network through my peers and other Howard Alum, which has opened doors to endless possibilities both within fashion as well as daily life.
The same confidence instilled in me through my style has also been rooted deeply within me as I step into any role or project I’m faced with throughout my career.
xoNecole: This year marked Howard’s 100th-anniversary Homecoming celebration. Can you describe what the weekend looked and felt like?
Sharmaine: I’ve gone to many Howard Homecomings since graduating, but this year’s 100th anniversary felt like a huge family reunion filled with nothing but love. It was beautiful to see so many Bison return home looking great and radiating joy. It was beautiful!
xoNecole: What makes Howard fashion different from other HBCUs?
Sharmaine: Being that Howard is The Mecca, we have such a diverse population with each individual having their own spin on fashion. Getting dressed is second nature for us, but the layered confidence is our secret ingredient to make any look come together. Through that comfortability to push barriers, we have a legacy of setting trends, as indicated by the many alumni we have in the fashion and entertainment industry.
Keep scrolling for the top street style moments from The Mecca's Homecoming weekend:
Credit: Lacey Gallagher
Credit: Alan Henderson
Credit: JaLynn Davis
Credit: Dylan Davis
Credit: Caleb Smith
Credit: Kendall W.
Credit: Jordyn Finney
Credit: Vanessa Nneoma
Credit: Dr. Mariah Sankey-Thomas
Credit: Caleb MacBruce
Credit: Tiffany Battle
Credit: Teniola
Credit: Ilahi Creary
Credit: Nicolas Ryan Grant
Credit: Dylan Davis
Join us in celebrating HBCU excellence! Check out our Best In Class hub for inspiring stories, empowering resources, and everything you need to embrace the HBCU experience.
Featured image courtesy of Sharmaine Harris
Message From A Mad Black Woman: Y’all Keep The Blue Bracelets, We’ll Take Our Rest.
Mere hours after the 2024 presidential election results made it clear that the United States would need to gird its loins for a second Trump presidency, a gaggle of women ran over to social media to announce that blue bracelets would serve as a new sign of solidarity. A safe space, if you will.
This declaration came about in response to Black women openly voicing their disappointment in both the election results and exit poll data that showed that not just white people, but Latinos and women of “all other races” had played a surprising role in the now President-Elect, Donald Trump’s reelection.
These exit polls quickly became the object of Black women’s attention and ultimate disappointment. Because while Black women went out and reliably voted for Vice President Kamala Harris to the tune of 91%, white women handed Trump 53% of their collective vote, Latino women 36%, and women of “other races” 46%.
On the night of November 5, 2024, Black women were left in shock. This shock would morph into disappointment, and the disappointment was a consequence of what, some would begin to argue, felt like, well, betrayal.
Like Rome, though, this heart-wrenching disappointment wasn’t built in a day.
Screenshot from "2024 Exit Polls," NBC News, accessed Nov. 12, 2024.
The Set-Up
On Sunday, July 21, President Joe Biden announced that he would not be seeking reelection - a decision that followed the disastrous one-and-done debate against former president Donald Trump, the subsequent wavering of major donors, and growing calls for a new candidate to run on the Democrat’s ticket. Hours after Biden’s announcement, Vice President Kamala Harris would send Beyoncé's internet into a frenzy by announcing that she would seek the party’s nomination.
That July night, 44,000 Black women assembled via Zoom to stress test the limits of the meeting app, break historical fundraising records, and strategize - subsequently setting into motion a series of virtual meet-ups. As a result, more Zoom meetings cropped up, bringing together attendees connected through countless combinations of backgrounds, orientations, and genders.
One said meeting was held by and for 164,000 “White Women for Kamala” who’d come together to publicly declare that they’d regretted not doing more in 2016 and were ready to use their privilege for the sake of advocacy and allyship.
A woman wearing an anti-Trump button as she listens to Democratic presidential nominee VP Kamala Harris speak at a campaign event on Oct. 18, 2024.
Bill Pugliano/Getty Images
For months, white women made it a point to convince Black women that they were on board - ensuring us that they were ready to seize their second chance at pushing back on the pillars of the patriarchy. The same group who’d failed to answer the call of rejecting Trump’s racist, sexist, and xenophobic antics before swore, for months, that they’d seen the error of their ways and were looking for redemption. The alleged fix? Betting better. Doing more. Voting differently.
While there was an understanding undertone of apprehension from Black women, the rhetoric began to lend itself to hope — with some going so far as to lift the moratorium on cookout invites. There seemed to be a collective sigh. A brief moment of unity.
The Let-Down
Little did Black women know, they were about to be played like a fiddle by the same group who, like in 2016 and 2020, were more interested in their own self-preservation than in actual change. This short-lived hope was dashed on Nov. 5 as the true nature of performative allyship became evident.
Turns out, the Black women who’d served at the helm of the movement, bless their hearts, had been bamboozled. Hoodwinked. Swindled. Like a modern-day Boo Boo the Fool. Believing the hook, line, and sinker, it was almost cute, in a tragic sort of way. They saw the potential, the hope, and the promise, drinking the red Kool-Aid, so to speak, eagerly awaiting the revolution.
The excessive blue hearts and social media commentary pledging solidarity had turned out to be performative or had over-indexed the voices of the 44% who were actually in solidarity. Either way, the seemingly overwhelming allyship wasn’t there, reminding Black women that while they are constantly expected to stand on the front lines for so many, rarely is there any ally who will actually show up for them.
A History of Short-Lived, Self-Serving Allyship
The 2024 election wasn’t the first time we’d seen this type of performative allyship, though. While a noble concept in theory, the kinds of allyship that have been displayed in many movements across The States have far too often missed the actual point. In fact, throughout U.S. history, allyship has actually been used more as a tool to bolster a single group’s positioning in the social hierarchy rather than genuinely advocating for the progression of marginalized groups.
Think back to 2020. Just months after the COVID-19 pandemic forced much of the country into isolation, remote work, the acknowledgment of essential workers as, well, essential, and, for some reason, bread-making. For 9 minutes and 29 seconds, the world watched, helplessly, as a powerless George Floyd was slowly pulled away from the world, drained by Officer Derek Chauvin's knee to his nape. In a traumatic 8 minutes and 46 seconds, the world seemingly changed.
Ira L. Black/Corbis via Getty Images
Protests quickly spread across the globe, and along with it, a wave of “allyship” swept across America. Large corporations, scrambling to answer the calls of Black employees, consumers, and investors demanding that they use their financial prowess to do more to prevent the next Floyd, almost instantly began releasing statements of solidarity, pledging donations to “racial justice” causes, and promising to promote more Black employees.
However, as quickly as these gestures showed up, most were forgotten, with almost all proving to have provided minimal impact on the groups they’d pledged to help. While some companies, like Target, increased their spending on Black-owned businesses, others faced scrutiny for their lack of substantive change.
A study by Color Of Change found that only 17% of companies that pledged donations after Floyd's death had fulfilled their commitments. Data compiled by theWashington Post found that two years after America’s 50 largest publicly traded companies pledged a collective $50 billion to racial justice causes, just 37 had disbursed a collective $1.7 billion. What’s worse?
Ninety percent of the pledged amount - or $45.2 billion - had been allocated in the form of mortgages, loans, and investments that the companies themselves would more than likely benefit from. These companies said one thing and did another and still found a way to benefit from the delta.
Performative Allyship: Civil Rights & Women’s Liberation Movements
This type of allyship is new, though. It didn’t take long for powerful groups to figure out that the simple appearance of allyship was, for the most part, good for business and the bottom line. For decades, powerful entities have publicly supported movements only to be later found to have engaged in discriminatory practices, highlighting the consistent disconnect.
During the Civil Rights Movement, companies issued statements of solidarity and even donated to civil rights organizations, but behind the scenes, they continued to segregate their workforces and refuse to hire Black employees for higher-level positions. During the Women's Liberation Movement, advertisers capitalized on the feminist moment by incorporating imagery and slogans associated with women's empowerment into their campaigns, while the underlying message of many advertisements reinforced traditional gender roles and stereotypes.
The difference between what is said and what is done has time after time exposed the shallowness of allyship, highlighting how it has mostly served as a tool for public relations rather than a genuine commitment to social justice and to the marginalized groups who are most at risk by the upholding of the status quo.
For two election cycles straight, white women posed as allies and still voted in a way that upheld the power structure that they benefit from - with many understanding that the survival of white supremacy is of more value to them than sexism and misogyny is a threat. In 2016 and 2020, 52% and 55% of white women, respectively, decided that they’d rather keep their position of second place in the social hierarchy than risk dismantling it and being forced to find a new place in society.
Latino women and women of “all of the races” followed the trend - blatantly ignoring the warnings of the same Black women who have not only been on the front lines of social justice but who are often called into the lead movements in communities that are not there own - increasing their support for Trump between 2016 and 2025 by 13% and 15% respectively.
Screenshot from "2020 Exit Polls," NBC News, accessed Nov. 12, 2024.
The Blue Bracelets are Going to Be A “No”
On the night of Nov. 5, 2024, Black women watched their country look at a qualified, experienced, capable, and willing Black woman and say, “Nah, we good.” It was on this night that a group that had been denied democratic rights for centuries, but had still attempted to rescue American democracy far too many times, only to be let down, put away the warnings, and began issuing a new declaration - they were opting out.
Black women have decided to lean into rest and recuperation - uninterested in any additional work that will, more than likely, end in disappointment and betrayal. For many Black women, the suggestion to wear blue bracelets as a symbol of solidarity is patronizing and dismissive of a greater and more complex issue. It’s a way to absolve the women who let Black women down for failing to keep promises made while simultaneously positioning the wearer as morally superior.
It fails to address the historically deep betrayal that Black women have experienced at the hands of their country and, more specifically, their own countrywomen. The request reduces the fight for equality to a simple, superficial gesture when allyship isn’t aesthetic and Black women deserve more than a symbol.
While the blue bracelets may be the new fashion choice for white women attempting to set themselves apart, to symbolize that they were on the right side of history, for many Black women, it’ll always be difficult to trust. In fact, it may serve as a symbol of a hollow and fleeting promise for the Black women who have done the tireless and thankless work for justice and equality.
For now, Black women are choosing themselves. Anywhere between a few days and the next four years should be enough time to reset and recoup. And who knows, they may even find the excess capacity means energy to train as pilots, restart forgotten yoga practices, expand the business, or earn that second Ph.D.
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Featured illustration by nadia_bormotova/Getty Images