Love Island USA Made Me Believe In Love Again

"‘Love Island USA’ gives viewers, specifically Black women, hope that love is in reach," writes Taylor Crumpton.

I love reality TV. On any given day, I can be found watching old episodes of the Housewives or Ladies of London on Peacock. The drama, the betrayal, the wealth—these characters and storylines fuel me. Nourish me.

But I hate reality dating shows.

Dating shows always gave me the impression that love is something to be used and bartered in exchange for fame. Take, for example, West Wilson of the hit Bravo TV series Summer House. His relationship with fellow cast member Ciara Miller won over the hearts of countless women in America, only for their love to be transmuted into anger when the audience felt he used his fellow cast member for a storyline. To paraphrase Cersei Lannister, when you date on reality TV, you win or you die. And oftentimes, Black women are the sacrificial lambs.

Read More: Reality TV Has Reshaped Our World, Whether We Like It or Not

Then came Serena Craig and Kordell Beckham Jr., and JaNa Craig and Kenny Rodriguez on Love Island USA. Just when we thought all hope was lost.

For the past six weeks, the Love Island spinoff has captured the hearts and minds of every single person in America. Not a day goes by that a fancam, a tweet, or a TikTok video has not been posted online about one of America’s fan favorites. (A day literally cannot go by, since the show is filmed every day.) It is the number one reality series in the nation across all streaming platforms, according to entertainment data company Luminate.

The reason for this is pretty simple: With limited amounts of representation of genuine dialogue and healthy relationships on television, Love Island USA gives viewers, specifically Black women, hope that love is in reach. Finally, Black love has taken center stage and, with it, the realities that many Black women face when dating.

Racism, colorism, and texturism: all of these impact the dating lives of Black women, and how potential suitors determine their attractiveness. In the outside world, where Black women are not privy to a group of producers wrangling up a roster of hot 20-somethings to date, the pickings are slim. Black women are 62% more likely to be unpartnered compared to our male counterparts, according to a 2021 study by Pew Research Center. Societal narratives and tropes about the “Strong Black Woman” have contributed to a belief that Black women are undesirable. What’s more, Black women are considered to be the least desired dating demographic, and also subjected to grotesque racial fetishization online. All to say: dating in the outside world for Black women is hell on earth.

In a recent article for The Cut, writer and cultural critic Jamilah Lemieux changed her race from Black to white on Hinge, and was surprised at the number of matches that were significantly better from her standard results. 

“Dating apps allow sexual racism to flourish because they rely on the white hetero normative standards of attraction, desirability, and gender aesthetics to perform the sorting and matching algorithms that we are so comfortable with these days,” said sociologist Apryl Williams in an interview with The Hazard Gazette. In her book, Not My Type: Automating Sexual Racism in Online Dating, she details the ways in which Black women are treated online when dating.

Read More: When Love and the Algorithm Don’t Mix

That’s why the latest season of Love Island USA is such a delight. In a show where attraction and desirability are the name of the game, Black women have come out on top. Not only are they in the running for the grand prize, but their partners are infatuated with them. 

From Kordell making Serena breakfast each morning to Kenny staring into JaNa’s eyes during every conversation, the boys were down bad for their women. Even when the Kordell and Kenny committed the original Love Island sin of being intimate with bombshells at Casa Amor, they returned with a deeper steadfast love for their partners.

A love that was not believed at first by Serena, who expressed how she felt humiliated by Kordell’s decision to couple with bombshell Daia McGhee. Her reaction, which was described as hyper emotional by fellow cast member Miguel Harichi and aggressive by another cast member Kendall Washington, nearly typecasted her as the aggressive Black woman stereotype.

Thankfully, the audience did not feel the same way. Instead of chastising Serena, they empathized with her pain. A rarity in reality TV, where fan bases typically attack and contribute to the mischaracterization of Black women on dating shows (see The Bachelor and Love Is Blind), the audience applauded Kordell for admitting his faults, taking responsibility, and centering Serena’s feelings when he apologized to her at the recoupling ceremony.

Since then, the two can be found having the sweetest moments together in the Villa. Serena doing Kordell’s hair. Serena and Kordell dancing together. And my personal favorite, Serena and Kordell sneaking in brief kisses during challenges. 

Online, fans often say that the two portray a 1990s type of love, a reference to a decade where Black love was seen in full force film and TV. Think Nina and Darius from Love Jones, Martin and Gina from Martin, Whitley and Dwayne from A Different World, or Synclaire and Overton from Living Single. In the decades since, especially on reality TV, Black women are often left behind by men in favor of a non-Black woman. Like when Love Island USA cast member Connor Newsum decided to pursue Leah Kateb after being previously coupled with JaNa.

This leads us to another cast member: Kenny. The 24-year-old fitness trainer had his eyes on JaNa from the moment he entered the villa. And he pursued her with the same intensity. There was never a moment, not even in Casa Amor, where she was not in the back of his mind. When she cried, he cried. If she was in pain, he was in pain. Their love, which has been characterized by many as soft and tender, is a relief for JaNa, who has been on the receiving end of harsh mistreatment by previous male suitors in the villa.

It is so refreshing to see Black women be loved on reality TV. And to see that love be amplified and promoted by fans online—Kordena Hive, KaNa Hive—is a treat. It reminds me that there is a reality where Black women can be loved solely for the fact that they are deserving of it. I will take any Love Island USA fancam over Black women standing in line, popping balloons, over a raggedy man. (For those unfamiliar, Pop The Balloon Or Find Love, a YouTube dating series, has gained prominence for the women’s reactions to the blatant disrespect they receive from male contestants.) The bar is in hell, or maybe it is in Winston-Salem with scorned cast member Coye Simmons.

Regardless of who wins on Sunday’s season finale, Black women will emerge the victor. Serena or JaNa’s journeys, and the  vulnerability and authenticity they exuded, will be etched into reality tv show history. They did not shrink or lessen themselves to appease anyone. They stood firm on their boundaries with the men they pursued. And they developed a deep sisterhood through the filming process. Black love abounds.

Now, do I expect every reality TV dating show to get it right for Black women after this? No. I will maintain a healthy amount of skepticism and critique because these shows reflect the existing power structures in our lives, which means there will always be anti-Black and anti-woman sentiment seeping in. But I can cheer and rally when I see women who receive their just due. And that, in itself, is a win.