Beyoncé Brought the Cowboy Back—The Autry Keeps the Legacy Alive
By Dr. Marie Y. Lemelle, MBA, PhD
It’s been weeks since Beyoncé’s Cowboy Carter Tour left Los Angeles, but the spirit she awakened in SoFi Stadium in Inglewood still lingers like a prairie wind that refuses to die down. For me, it wasn’t just a concert. It was a cultural reckoning—a celebration of legacy, resilience, and visibility. And I had the honor of witnessing it from the floor, just feet from the stage.
My first-class seat at SoFi came with luxury, but once the show began, none of us sat down. Not once. Beyoncé had us on our feet from the first beat. And not just because of the music—because of the power. Her voice soared, her visuals told stories we’ve been craving, and her movement redefined what it means to be free. She didn’t just give us entertainment—she gave us permission.
Beyoncé fused her Southern roots with a fierce sense of modern identity. As a woman with deep family roots in both Louisiana and Texas, I felt every ounce of her homage to the past and vision for the future. She didn’t just honor the cowboy myth—she reclaimed it. Her fashion, her lyrics, her fire—all lit a trail for a new kind of cowboy. One where women, Black voices, and culture lead the way.
There were no empty moments. From Blue Ivy’s poised performance to the family tribute with Tina Knowles, now a best-selling author, Beyoncé reminded us that legacy isn’t just inherited—it’s created, shared, and expanded. The mashup of “Texas Hold ’Em (Pony Up Remix)” and “Crazy In Love” brought a new energy to Western swagger. And the larger-than-life “Attack on the 400 Foot Cowboy” visuals? Pure genius.
But what struck me most was how Beyoncé turned cowboy culture into a safe space—a celebration of individuality. People came dressed in rhinestone-studded denim, feathered hats, leather boots, and fringe dripping with pride. And for once, cowboy didn’t mean one thing. It meant us all. Beyoncé didn’t just entertain—she gave us permission to be unapologetically ourselves.
If you missed the parade of cowboy energy outside the stadium or inside Beyoncé’s world, now, that same energy continues at the Autry Museum of the American West with Black Cowboys: An American Story. The exhibit is on view June 14, 2025, through January 4, 2026, in the Marilyn and Calvin Gross Gallery at 4700 Western Heritage Way, Griffith Park, Los Angeles, CA 90027. Free Parking for All Visitors.
The Autry Museum helps us trace that history back to the true roots of the Black cowboy. It is a moving, honest, and long overdue portrayal of the Black men and women who helped shape the Western frontier. Did you know that one in four cowboys was Black? That statistic alone challenges everything I learned growing up—and reinforces the power of telling our stories.
The exhibit is more than saddles and spurs. It tells the truth. From the ranches of Texas to the cities of California, it highlights how Black cowboys tamed and trained horses, managed herds, served as lawmen, and built their own ranches. They didn’t just survive the trail—they thrived on it.
One of the most powerful parts of the Autry’s presentation is the inclusion of trailblazers like World Champion Bull Rider Charlie Sampson, the fearless Sharon Braxton, one of the first Black female barrel racers in the Women’s Professional Rodeo Association, and the historic presence of the Buffalo Soldiers. From rodeos to film, from Texas ranches to California arenas, their stories echo across generations.
This exhibit doesn’t just reflect the past. It shows how that past still lives in today’s music, fashion, art, and cultural expression—including in the boots, hats, and “fits” that now line retail shelves and fill our social media feeds, thanks in large part to the Cowboy Carter effect. Beyoncé has single-handedly made Western glam a global wave.
Whether in a concert arena or a museum gallery, the Black cowboy lives on—not just in dusty history books, but in rhythm, style, voice, and power. Beyoncé opened the gates, and now, we’re all riding through.
As I stood in that stadium with my hand over my heart during “The Star-Spangled Banner,” beautifully reimagined, I realized: this wasn’t about nostalgia. This was about reclaiming our place in the story.
Cowboy Carter didn’t end in L.A.—it just changed lanes.
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