Dissect - S13E14 - The Moral Ambiguity of "Auntie Diaries" by Kendrick Lamar

Episode Date: June 17, 2025

Our season-long analysis of Mr Morale & The Big Steppers continues with "Auntie Diaries" - a controversial song in which Kendrick shares his evolution in understanding of his transgender relatives. Follow @dissectpodcast on⁠ Instagram⁠,⁠ TikTok⁠, &⁠ Twitter⁠. Host/Writer/EP: Cole Cuchna Audio/Video Editing: Kevin Pooler Theme Music: Birocratic Additional Production: Justin Sayles Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

From the Ringer podcast network, this is Dysect, long-form musical analysis broken into short digestible episodes. This is episode 14 of our season-long analysis of Kendrick Lamar's Mr. Morrell and The Big Stepers. I'm your host, Cole Kushner. Last time by Dysect, we examined Mr. Morow's 13th track, Savior, where Kendrick defiantly proclaimed he is not our savior, then called out various expressions of moral acting, be it disingenuous social media activists, judgmental anti-vaxed Christians, or greedy capitalist posing as humanitarians.

These modern-day archetypes portray themselves to be savior types, morally righteous individuals, selflessly concerned with the welfare of others, when really they're motivated by self-interest just like everyone else, condemning and judging others, conveniently exalting themselves as superior in the process. In the age of self-appointed experts, corporate-sponsored politicians, brand deal influencers, and perfect life social media curation, the refrain, I am not your savior, is a blunt, admission of defect. It's an admission that Kendrick Lamar is an imperfect human like the rest of us,

unfit to save the world single-handedly, unfit to be the poster child for your personal political agenda. And as if to prove just how unfit he is to be our savior, the song is intentionally followed by Mr. Morales' most controversial track, the subject of our episode today, Auntie Diaries. figure out. This is how we conceptualize human beings. Ondi Diaries begins with Kendrick repeating the phrase, heart plays in ways the mind can't figure out. This disconnection between the head and the heart, what we think versus what we feel,

is the central theme of the song. On one hand, given the tracks transgender subject matter, the phrase could describe gender dysphoria. The mental distress caused when one's internal sense of gender does not align with the sex they were assigned at birth. While they have been socially conditioned in one gender, the heart is feeling something different. At the same time, the phrase also applies to Kendrick's own evolution. As he'll document in this song, Kendrick was socially indoctrinated with homophobic

ideology as a child, both by his friends and family, as well as his local church. However, Kendrick's heart always felt something different. As we'll hear, he liked and accepted his transgender relatives despite the fact most people around him ridiculed and judged them. And so while Kendrick's socially conditioned mind was telling him one thing about his trans uncle and cousin, his heart was feeling another. Kendrick's refrain is followed by a brief clip of Eckhart Tolley, the spiritual teacher playing the role of the album's therapist. He says, this is how we conceptualize human beings. It points to one of the central tenets of Tolle's teachings, the way the human ego simplifies other human beings into a single concept based on one aspect of their form identity. For example, if a person

is gay, we make that quality their entire identity, or taking into consideration the previous song's savior, if a person chooses not to get vaccinated, that person is labeled anti-vax. Reducing the complexity of a human being into a single concept allows the ego to judge and dismiss the entirety of that person, exalting itself as superior in the process. As we discussed last episode, in Tolly's view, this is the root cause of most conflict between humans, leading to widespread discrimination, ideological warfare, and violence. To make other human beings wrong, to make wrong who they are. I'm not talking about what they do, but to make wrong who they are.

There is a difference. You can criticize what a person says or does, but if you then use whatever this person says or does and see, that is his or her identity. Then you've created an enemy in your mind, and that is a dangerous thing to do, because it strengthens the unconsciousness in the collective energy field and produces a corresponding reactive effect in the other,

and then there's a mutual strengthening of that, of that and that leads to huge conflict. And you get more and more trapped in your ego and in being right. Now, before we begin dissecting the story told across Auntie Diaries, I want to first acknowledge my approach to today's episode. As most of you probably know, this song was met with some controversy at the time of its release, specifically due to Kendrick's use of the F-sler, as well as deadnaming and misgendering his trans-uncle and trans-uncle.

cousin at certain points of the song. I read a lot of the feedback from the queer community, and the reception generally falls into one of three buckets. Some rejected or condemned the song entirely due to the F-slers misgendering and deadnaming. Some recognized and praised Kendrick's good intentions, but found the song's missteps ultimately spoiled an otherwise positive song. Finally, there were some that praised Auntie Diaries adamantly and interpreted its controversial aspects not as gaffes, but intentional and effective artistic tools used to convey Kendrick evolution and understanding trans people. Now, I'm not going to attempt to sway anyone's opinion of the song one way or the other. Like my approach to Kodak Black's controversial presence on the

album, my approach to Auntie Diaries is going to be the same as every song I analyze on Dissect. I'll do my best to understand and illuminate why creative decisions were made, what they might mean, and how they contribute to the overall themes of the song and album. And just like with Kodak Black, I feel it's my job to attempt to understand those decisions in good faith, how you personally end up feeling about them, well, obviously, that's entirely up to you. his transgender uncle by calling him auntie. Misgendering is referring to someone using words or pronouns that do not align with their affirmed gender identity. For example, calling a trans woman he or him, or in Kendrick's case, referring to his trans uncle as auntie. Though it may seem minor to some, misgendering can cause

emotional pain and reinforce feelings of invalidation and erasure. Transgender individuals who experience frequent misgendering reported higher rates of anxiety, depression, and psychological distress. Kendrick's second line provides some context for his misgendering. Kendrick thinks he's old enough to understand his transgender uncle, but he's not entirely sure. This opening couplet sets up the entire arc of the story, where we'll witness Kendrick on a transition of understanding, following him through various stages of awareness as he matures and becomes more educated. This will include not only understanding his transgender relatives, but understanding why his language

was harmful, including the refrain, my auntie is a man now. It'll soon become clear this opening verse is written from Kendrick's perspective in second grade, his earliest memories of his trans uncle. Thus, the verse continues with more imperfect language, drinking Paul Mason with her hat turned backwards. Kendrick uses the pronoun her, another instance of misgendering. If we're giving Kendrick the benefit of the doubt, it seems likely this was meant to display the cognitive dissonance of his younger perspective. It's the innocent confusion of a young boy seeing a relative he's been told is his aunt, dressing like a stereotypical man, and drinking hard liquor. Little Kendrick has no frame of reference for this yet. It's the early 90s.

It's unlikely he's been taught about transgender people, and if he was, it's likely that education was crude and taught with prejudice. Kendrick's description continues, Motorola Pager, off-white guest jacket, blue air maxes, gold chains, and curl kits. Ninety-three Nissan wax job, the earliest, big social, big personality, vocal, played the underground verbatim and stayed local. Again, And from Kendrick's young perspective, being into cars, wearing gold chains and sneakers, rapping along to local underground hip-hop, these were things boys did. However, young Kendrick also observed how his trans uncle was totally comfortable in his own skin.

He was outgoing and appeared larger than life. And so despite any cognitive dissonance he might have been experiencing, little Kendrick still looked up to him, something that becomes more clear as the verse continues. Monty is a man now. I watch a man this girl hold their hands down. The avenues under streetlights made his, thinking I want me a bad bitch when I get big. They hug on a corner like California came cold, hand all up a skirt cars whistling down the road. See my auntie is a man now.

Slight bravado. Scratching the likes from Lido. Hoping that she pull up tomorrow so I can hang out in the front seat. Six by nine I's keeping the music up under me. Kendra continues the verse, I watch him and his girl hold their hands. Down the tip of Avenue under street lights made his, thinking I want me a bad bitch when I get big. His uncle seemingly had no reservations about his identity. He proudly held hands with his girlfriend in public,

and Kendrick looked up to him like he would any other uncle that pulled a bad bitch, drove a cool car, wore cool clothes, and listened to cool music. Interestingly, Kendrick uses the correct pronoun during this passage. It's possible that young Kendrick, seeing his uncle with a cis woman, made things easier to process, because it resembled heterosexual norms. And if young Kendrick learned that only men and women could be romantic, then his young mind would be forced to process one as the man and one as the woman. The couple's public displays of affection continue, they hug on the corner like California

King, cold hand all upper skirt, cars whistling down the road. There's some wordplay in California King. On one hand, it's a reference to the mattress size and seems to describe how comfortable this couple was showing affection in public. It's as if they were in their own bed. At the same time, Kendrick grew up in California, and King is specifically a male ruler. And so, So California King continues to describe young Kendrick's admiration for his trans uncle, pulling women like a king. The verse thing continues, See, my auntie is a man now, slight bravado, scratching the likes from Lotto, hoping that she can pull up tomorrow so I can hang out in the front seat.

Six by Nines kept the music up under me. Like any young kid, Kendrick wants to spend time with his cool older relative. He wants to ride in his cool car and listen to loud music blaring from the six by nine speakers. In this scenario, when young Kendrick sees his trans uncle without his cisgender girlfriend, he reverts back to using she. This toggling back and forth seems to symbolize young Kendrick's ongoing confusion and how to conceptualize this human being, to use Toli's words from the intro. However, Kendrick's curiosity did not come with prejudice.

Kendrick still looked up to his trans uncle. And when Kendrick asked his mom about him, he didn't ask why he's different. He asked why his cisgender uncles don't like him as much as he does. My auntie is a man now. Ask my mama why my uncles don't like him that much. And at the party's why they always want to fight him that much. She said, ain't no telling. Nickas always been jealous because he had more women.

More money and more attention made more envy. Calling them anything but broke was less offending. Kendrick once again toggles back to the male pronoun, describing the time he asked his mom why his transgender uncle is disliked by his other uncles and why they want to fight him all the time. Again, it's notable that young Kendrick did not ask about his trans uncle being different. He asks why he's not accepted. It captures the open mind of a child, perhaps suggesting that prejudice isn't something we're born with, it's something we're taught. Kendrick's observation

that his uncles always pick fights with his trans uncle is an example of what's been recently coined malgendering. Malgendering is when a trans person's gender identity is validated, but only when it can be used to hurt them. A common scenario of malgendering is a bigoted cis man picking a fight with a trans man, justifying his aggression by his aggression by, saying something like, since you're a man, that means I can hit you. Its abuse executed through a disingenuous validation of gender identity. Kendrick's uncle singling out and picking fights with his trans uncle was a way to invalidate and ridicule his masculinity, and all of it was confusing to young Kendrick. His mom answers Kendrick's questions by claiming his uncles were jealous

of his money, attention, and women. The same qualities young Kendrick admired were the same qualities that inspired envy in these older men, who were probably in disbelief that a transgender person can be more successful than them, as that would conflict with their judgment and dismissal of them. And while all this was probably true, what's not addressed by Kendrick's mom here is glaring. His uncles were transphobic. Through Tolle's lens, they made one characteristic his entire identity, flattened him to a single concept, and then judged, ridiculed, and condemned him for it. Perhaps Kendrick's mom didn't want to have that conversation because she felt Kendrick's was too young. Maybe she didn't want to corrupt him with the prejudice of adults. Maybe she didn't

know how to explain it properly. Maybe she herself was confused because she was undereducated about trans people. Whatever the reason, like in many families, the topic was avoided and little Kendrick resumed his childhood uneducated about queer people. Had Kendrick's mom had the tools to teach young Kendrick about homophobia and transphobia, perhaps he wouldn't have said what we hear next. My auntie is a man now I think I'm old enough to understand now drinking parmesan with her hat turned backwards Back when it was comedic relief to say faget

Faggett faggit we ain't know no better Elementary kids with no filter however My auntie became a man and I took pride in it She wasn't gay, she ate pussy and that was the difference That's what I told my friends in second grade She picking me up from school They stare at her in the face They couldn't comprehend what I grew accustomed

We pull off bump and quick like it was nothing Kendrick repeats the opening frame, then abruptly pivots to the jarring line back when it was comedic relief to say F-sler. In case we're second-guessing what we just heard, whether Kendrick actually said what we think he said, the beat stopped suddenly and he repeats it three times over silence. Clearly, Kendrick is drawing attention to the word and him saying it. Now, the history of the F-sler resembles most words that evolve into slurs, beginning as a normal word that was weaponized over time. It originally referred to a bundle of sticks. It was actually first used as an insult toward women to describe them as weak and expendable, part of a broader trend of using

dehumanizing language to control and marginalize women. By the early 20th century, this feminine insult transitioned into a slur for gay men. However, the intent was the same, weaponizing words to stigmatize and dehumanize. This abusive language was a reflection of the hostile attitude toward the queer community at the time. When homophobia and trans phobia was widespread and generally accepted even more than it is today. As gay men began to assert themselves more openly in the mid-20th century, homophobia intensified, and the F-sler was increasingly applied to gay men perceived as effeminate, flamboyant, or unmanly. The slur functioned as a tool to enforce traditional gender norms and ostracize anyone who defied them, particularly during a time

when any expression of non-heteronormative sexuality was viewed as a threat to social order and the so-called traditional family. Of course, eight-year-old Kendrick has no clue about this history. His use of the F-sler can only be a reflection of his environment in the early 90s, when saying the F-sler and using the word gay as an insult was incredibly common. As a 90s kid myself, I remember my friends and I using gay as an insult all the time. I didn't realize it then, but we had naively absorbed the broader attitude toward queer people at the time, who were facing violent hate crimes and widespread opposition to same-sex marriage, adoption rights, and openly serving in the military, among other issues. A 1994 study showed that just 46% of Americans believed homosexuality should be

accepted by society, and just 27% of Americans supported same-sex marriage. The normalization of the F-sler and gay as a run-of-the-mill insult can only occur in a society in which homophobia was widespread, as language is merely a reflection of the society who uses it. Now, we'll address current day Kendrick Lamar choosing to repeat the F-sler throughout Auntie Diaries later in the episode. But in terms of the eight-year-old raised in the 90s, little Kendrick was an oblivious product of his environment. Hence his line, We ain't no-no better, elementary kids with no filter. Importantly, he then pivots with a however to say, my auntie became a man and I took pride in it. She wasn't gay, she ate pussy, and that was the difference. That's what I told my friends in

second grade. We see how little Kendrick's mind is trying to justify why he does a discriminate against his trans uncle. Because gay and the Fsler were insults he heard and then adopted himself, he's experiencing cognitive dissonance again. How could the coolest person in the world be gay when gay is an insult he and his friends used to describe something uncool? So he justifies his trans uncle to his friends. She wasn't gay, she ate pussy, and that was the difference. Obviously the adolescent logic here is flawed, but because having sex with women was something cool older guys did, young Kendrick tries to use it to convince his friends how cool his uncle is, because he wants them to accept him like he did. This scene illustrates how Kendrick's intuition

throughout his childhood was to defend his uncle, but he clearly lacks the education and language to do so. Plus, he's just a kid, steeped in a homophobic culture, attempting to fit in. He's trying to avoid judgment and ridicule for liking his trans-uncle, thus his attempts to explain how his uncle isn't gay, isn't the word that they use as an insult. However, despite Kendrick's efforts, his friends still looked at his uncle's side-eyed, as he raps, she picking me up from school, they stare at her in the face. They couldn't comprehend what I grew accustomed. We pull off bumping quick like it was nothing. Like young Kendrick himself at a certain point, these kids seem to be experiencing cognitive dissonance when attempting to conceptualize this particular

human beings. Here's a cash and gave me some gang. Sherry Fresh and I on the dash, I never complained. She even cut my hair at the pad was loving my fate. The first person I sing, write a rap, that's where my life had changed. House full of demo, smoke stuck on the window, cameras on the microphone, all women and men know. My auntie was a man now. We cool with it.

The history had trickled down and made us ignit. My favorite cousin said... Here toward the end of the second verse, Kendrick jumps forward in time a few years. Where his uncle once babysat him, he now views him more as an older friend. He gives young Kendrick haircuts, gives him money, gives him game, and perhaps most importantly, introduces Kendrick to rapping, not just rapping along to songs in the car, but actually writing original lyrics. He describes this as the moment his life changed, setting him on a path to become one

of the greatest rappers of all time and earning generational wealth. Without his uncle, there is no Kendrick Lamar, at least not the version we know today. And by this point in the song, we've really gotten a sense of just how indebted Kendrick is to his uncle, just how influential he was during Kendrick's most formative years. Then after describing neighborhood house parties his uncle through, Kendrick wraps, all women and men know, my uncle was a man now, we cool with it. The history had trickled down and made us ignorant. The we and we cool with it feels significant. Middle school Kendrick witnessing his uncle earning acceptance in his community, has him thinking he and his peers understand and accept trans people. He acknowledges how the

Bigoted history he inherited made him ignorant in his conceptualization of this particular human being. But he's older now. Now he understands. Or so he thinks. Because just as the story of his uncle ends, a new one begins. The history had trickled down and made us ignorant. My favorite cousin said he's returning to favor and following my auntie with the same behavior. Demetrius is Marianne now. He's more confident to live his plan now. But the family in disbelief this time convincing himself, seen living discreet, he's fine. They said they never seen it in him, but I seen it. The Barbie dogs played off reflection of Venus. He built a wall so tall you couldn't climb over. He didn't laugh as hard when the kids start joking. Kendrick begins a new story about another trans relative,

and this story is different for a few critical reasons. First is Kendrick's favorite cousin, who is much closer in age than Kendrick and his trans uncle. And unlike his uncle, Kendrick grew up alongside his cousin before she began living openly as a woman. So he experienced the transition was able to observe how it was perceived by his peers. Finally, Kendrick's cousin is a trans woman, and studies consistently show that trans women are less accepted than trans men, especially by cis men rigidly indoctrinated in traditional masculinity. This is why Kendrick says he's more confident to live his plan now, but the family in disbelief this time. It appears Marianne's transition came as a surprise, because as Kendrick explains next, they either didn't see

the signs or tried to ignore them. He wraps, convincing themselves, He ain't living discreet, he's fine. They said they never seen it in him, but I seen it. The Barbie dolls played off reflection of Venus. Because Kendrick was close with his cousin, he was able to observe Marianne's feminine traits his family didn't notice or ignored. Barbie dolls, of course, are traditionally considered girls' toys, and Venus has long been associated with women, as Venus is the Roman goddess often used to symbolize the feminine

ideal. Now, throughout this passage, you might have noticed that Kendrick has been consistently misgendering Marianne, referring to her as he and him. This could just be clumsy, misguided, insensitive, or oblivious writing on Kendrick's part. But if we're giving him the benefit of the doubt, assuming this was done purposefully, it's likely to convey the difficulty he and others had conceptualizing Marianne as a woman. While there might have been some signs, Kendrick said these signs were ignored, going so far as to write, convincing themselves, he ain't living discreet, he's fine. He and his peers were doing mental gymnastics in order to preserve the conception of

Marian as a man. Kendrick also deadnames Marianne by using her birth name at the beginning of the verse. Dead naming is when someone refers to a transgender person by the name they use before transitioning, often their birth name. Like misgendering, dead naming can be deeply hurtful because it disregards a person's affirmed identity and can feel like a denial of who they truly are. Clearly, Kendrick, his family, and his peers didn't understand Marianne, and their behavior around her seems to have made her uncomfortable. As he continues, he built a wall so, tall you couldn't climb over. It plays on the memory of building forts or stacking blocks as kids, but more importantly doubles as a metaphor for Marianne closing herself off from others. Many trans people

describe their life before transitioning as a constant internal struggle to conform to societal gender norms and suppress their true identity to fit in. For some, this can lead to feelings of isolation, depression, or insecurity. Of course, we don't know exactly how Marianne was feeling, but it's clear Kendrick interpreted the protective wall she built as being the result of discomfort around expressing herself authentically. Given what we know about trans acceptance and education then and now, it's likely little Marianne had no one to talk to about it. Understanding this, the next part of the verse is painful to hear. He built the wall so tall you couldn't climb over. He didn't laugh as hard when the kids start joking. Fagget, faggot, we ain't know no better. Middle school kids

for no filter. However, I had to be very mindful of my good cousin. I knew exactly who he was, but I still loved him. Demetrius is Marian now. I mean, he's really Marianne. Even took things further, changed his gender before Bruce Jenner was certain. Levering his truth, even if it meant to see a surgeon. Kendrick noticed how his cousin didn't laugh as hard when he and his middle school friends jokingly used the F-sler. Like he did with his uncle, Kendrick directly contrasts the slur with his personal acceptance of his cousin, saying, Middle school kids with no filter, however, I had to be mindful of my good cousin,

I knew exactly who he was, but I still loved him. The juxtaposition of hearing Kendrick say the F-sler just before saying he loves his trans cousin, continues the cognitive dissonance the song inspires in us listeners. How are we supposed to reconcile Kendrick repeating this slur and misgendering his cousin with the fact that he genuinely loved and accepted his trans relatives? Because if he did, why did he say it?

and especially now. Doesn't Kendrick know this is inappropriate? In terms of storytelling, this is almost certainly done deliberately to build tension as we approach the song's conclusion, a twist ending that philosophically challenges his own use of the slur on this very song. The language issues continue in the following sequence, when Kendrick reveals Marianne had gender-confirming surgery. He then cites trans-celebrity Caitlin Jenner and dead names her in the process. As someone who transitioned in the year 2015 at age 65, Jenner is being a woman. used as a timestamp of sorts. Kendrick is saying his cousin had surgery at a younger age and during a time in which trans people were not as visible as they are today. And it feels like Kendrick is making

this correlation to convey just how deeply affirmed and committed Marianne is in her womanhood, particularly for those who question or deny trans experiences. She'd rather deal with the discrimination and judgment than keep living a lie. I think this is one of the handful of reasons Auntie Diaries follows Savior on the album. Savior was in large part. aimed at moral actors, those who portray themselves as being virtuous, but are really just letting the fear of judgment dictate their actions. By contrast, Kendrick's trans uncle and cousin lived their truth in the face of judgment, overt prejudice, alienation, and even potential physical and verbal abuse. They are not willing to compromise who they are. They found that to

disingenuously costumed the gender they were assigned at birth to be a form of acting, and they took the mask off despite the audience judgment. Kendrick's trans uncle and cousin are models of one of the central messages of Mr. Morrell and the big steppers, to be authentically you, no matter the consequences. Kendrick then closes verse three, revealing how he and his cousin grew apart, rapping, We didn't talk for a while, he seemed more distant, wasn't comfortable around me, everything was offensive. But I recall we both had a sick sense of humor made raw, but time changes all. So I think it's important to compare the end of this verse with the end of verse one. When Kendrick asked his mom why his other

uncles were always picking fights with his trans uncle. After saying they were jealous of his money and women, Kendrick's mom said, calling him anything but broke, was less offending. It would appear that Kendrick's uncle wasn't too offended by insults about his sexuality and gender expression. As the first trans person he was exposed to, it's possible that little Kendrick mistakenly assumed that all trans people would be like his uncle. It's a common mistake when trying to understand a minority group, assuming that the thoughts and feelings of a single person represents that group entirely. But for his cousin, Kendrick's use of the F-sler, his misgendering, and dead-naming were offensive, as they are for many trans people. And their relationships suffered as a result. Kendrick,

the author writing this story, is showing how he now understands why they grew distant, but at the time younger Kendrick didn't. He assumed his cousin shared the same sense of humor he did, and obliviously continued using offensive language. more spiritual and enthumes we're living life straight, which I found ironic because the pastor didn't see him the same. He said my cousin was going through some things. He promised the world we living in was an act on abomination, and Demetrius was to blame.

I knew he was conflicted by the feelings of preaching man, wondering if God still call you a decent man. Still you found the courage to be subservient just to annoy it until he sing with you out to prove his point, saying. Scored by increasingly pronounced strings, Kendrick begins to tell a specific story about attending church with Marianne, on Easter Sunday. As we'll gather from details later in the verse, this story likely takes place after Kendrick and his cousin grew distant. He describes Marianne as a devout Christian, even though

their church persecuted the queer community. While this, of course, still occurs today, it was even more commonplace in the 90s, when many religious groups portrayed non-heteronormative sexualities and non-sistnormative genders as a moral, sinful, and a threat to society's moral fabric. They were vocal opponents of same-sex marriage and anti-discrimination protections, with some even attributing the AIDS crisis to divine punishment. This left many queer people of faith struggling to reconcile their sexual or gender identities with the condemnation of their religious affiliation, something that continues to this day. A recent 2024 study found that nearly two-thirds of queer people have left their religion over discrimination or non-inclusive teachings. Remarkably, Marianne not only kept her faith,

but in Kendrick's view was even more of a devout Christian than many of the members in their congregation. He notes how his preacher referred to the queer community as an abomination. It's likely Kendrick used this word specifically to allude to Leviticus 1822, a biblical passage often cited to justify homophobia. It reads, quote, Thou shall not lie with mankind as with womankind. It is abomination, unquote. Kendrick then praises his cousin for keeping her faith in the face of these attacks,

rapping, I know you is feeling conflicted by the feelings of preacher man, wondering if God still call you a decent man. Still, you found the courage to be subservient just to annoy. Unfortunately, the preacher's bigotry made Marianne's second-guessed if God condemned her transition. This is likely because some religious groups believe that ones assigned sex as part of God's design, and that individuals must accept their assigned gender as a spiritual obligation. In this view, a trans person's identity and desire to transition are framed as a spiritual test, something to be resisted or overcome through faith and prayer. Despite this kind of psychological manipulation, Marianne exhibited remarkable strength by tolerating her preacher because her devotion to God was ultimately her highest priority. The story then continues by describing

how the tension of this Easter day sermon escalated when the preacher decided to single out Marianne in front of the entire congregation. And the story, The first of a few twists in this final verse, the preacher uses the same exact language as young Kendrick. Until he sing with you out to prove his point, saying, Demetrius is Marianne now. Church, it's Auntie, it's a man now. It hurt you the most because your belief was close to his words forcing me to stand out. I said, Mr. Preacher, man, should we love thy neighbor?

The laws of the land of the heart was greater. I recognized the study she was taught since birth, but that I'm justified the feelings that my cousin preserved. The building was thinking out loud, bad angel, that's when you looked at me and smiled, said thank you. The dad chose humanity over religion. The family got closer. It was all forgiven. I said them F bombs right.

Kendrick quotes the preacher directly, rapping, until he singled you out to prove his point, saying, Demetrius is Marianne now. Church, his auntie, is a man now. Just like Kendrick, the preacher dead names and misgenders his uncle and cousin. However, it's not by accident or ignorance. Now, it's malicious. The words are weapon. intentionally used to hurt and condemn. In my reading of the story, Kendrick hearing his own words

repeated with venom is the moment everything clicks. It triggers him to stand up to the preacher in front of the congregation to defend his cousin for the first time in the story. He says, Mr. Preacherman, should we love thy neighbor? The laws of the land or the heart, what's greater? I recognize the study she was taught since birth, but that don't justify the feelings that my cousin preserved. Now, if we're taking the view that Kendrick's misgendering and dead naming was an intentional choice, this moment is the biggest piece of evidence. As you might have noticed, when the focus of the story pivoted to Marian, Kendrick consistently misgendered her. Unlike his alternating between he and her with Kendrick's uncle, he didn't call Marianne she even once.

That is until right now, when he stands up for her and says, I recognize the study, she was taught since birth. Narratively, this is when Kendrick's understanding of Marianne evolves, and as we'll hear in a moment, he recognizes the language he once used was hurtful. From this point on, we'll find that Kendrick doesn't dead name or misgender again. So if we're looking back from this point, there's a case to be made that Kendrick used these faux pods as a narrative tool to create story and character arc. For his uncle, Kendrick's alternation between pronouns displayed his initial confusion conceptualizing his uncle without proper guidance or education.

But using he, him on occasion, signal that Kendrick found it easier to recognize his uncle as a man, likely because he saw him with girlfriends, and they related on common interests like cars, men's clothes, and rap music. Marianne was harder for Kendrick, representative of the broader difficulty cis men have accepting or understanding trans women. And Kendrick's language reflected that difficulty. His acceptance was never a question, but his language displayed his ignorance and fully understanding Marianne's and other trans people's feelings.

That ignorance led to him and Marianne growing apart, as she clearly wasn't entirely comfortable around Kendrick. Now here at the story's climax, Kendrick properly genders Marianne, exemplifying his growth in understanding. There's also character growth in the way in which Kendrick defends Marianne. Recall that little elementary school Kendrick tried defending his uncle to his friends by saying he wasn't gay because he ate pussy. While his heart was in the right place, this is obviously a flawed allyship. But now in church, Kendrick defends Marianne on the principle that trans people have a fundamental right to live freely, without judgment or persecution. even if that directly challenges what he was taught about God.

Indeed, Kendrick has his own interpretation of Jesus' teachings, as he asked the preacher, should we love thy neighbor? Interestingly, this is the same exact passage Kendrick referenced on the previous song, Savior. As we discussed last episode, the concept of loving thy neighbor was one of the two most central teachings of Jesus. When Jesus was asked to name the greatest commandment, he had numerous laws from the Old Testament to choose from. However, he replied with only two, to love God with all your heart, soul and mind, and to love your neighbor as yourself. When asked to clarify what neighbor means,

Jesus replied with the parable of the Good Samaritan, a story about a beaten man abandoned on the road who has passed by a priest and a religious teacher. It was a Samaritan who finally stopped, someone considered an outsider and enemy by Jews. The lesson of the parable is that true neighborly love means showing compassion to everyone regardless of social or cultural boundaries. Kendrick uses Jesus' teachings of radical inclusivity, his central commandment, as a direct challenge to his preacher's judgment and condemnation of Marianne. He then asks, The law of the land or the heart, what's greater? The phrase law of the land is a legal term that refers to all the laws enforced within a country or region. However, Kendrick seems to be

using the term loosely, referring to the religious laws being taught through the Bible. This extends into the next thing Kendrick says, I recognize the study she was taught since birth, but that don't justify the feelings that my cousin preserved. The lessons taught at church forced Marianne to hide her true identity. They forced her to wear a mask, to live inauthentically. And Kendrick, who is now fully siding with his heart, vocalizes this as wrong at a basic human level and implies that it directly opposes the teachings of Jesus. The congregation rejects Kendrick's claim, as he says, the building was thinking out loud, bad angel. In Christianity, bad angel refers to fallen angels or demons that have turned away from goodness and now serve evil. In his defense of Marianne, for vocalizing

how he truly feels, Kendrick was also judged, condemned, and ostracized by his church. However, Marianne appreciated his act of allyship. As Kendrick continues, that's when you looked at me and smiled, said thank you. The day I chose humanity over religion. The family got closer, it was all forgiven. Kendrick formally acknowledges this moment as a breakthrough and his choice to prioritize humanity over religion reflects a wider trend of people doing the same. A recent 2024 survey found that among the increasing number of people leaving their religion, nearly half of them cited discrimination and negative views about queer people as the reason. And while Kendrick specifically cites religion here, within the context of Mr. Morale as a whole, we get the sense

Kendrick also means he chooses humanity over any institution that requires its members to conform to a specific set of laws and morals. This was the central critique. of Savior. It's what leads to group think, to virtue signaling, to mask wearing to avoid judgment. Kendrick also acknowledges how this moment closed the distance between him and Marianne. If Kendrick's language alienated Marianne and made her feel like she couldn't trust him, this moment proved to her where Kendrick's heart was, and she forgave him for his mistakes. The proximity of Marianne's forgiveness to the preacher's judgment doesn't feel like a coincidence. A devout follower of Christ, Kendrick is showing us how Marianne is embodying the teacher,

of Jesus more than her local preacher, more than the church, claiming to be the moral authority on his commandments. The family got closer, it was all forgiven. I said them F-bombs, I ain't know any better. Mistakenly, I ain't think that you know any different. See, I was taught words, was nothing more than a sound, if ever they was pronounced without any intentions. That very second, you challenged the shit I was kicking, reminded me about a show I did out

the city. That time I broke a fan on stage to rap, but disapproved a word that she couldn't say with me. You said Kendrick ain't no room for contradiction to truly understand love switch position. Fagg, fagg, fagg, we can say it together. But only if you let a white girl say niggins. Kendrick directly addresses his own use of the F-sler, which was clearly one of the sources of tension in his relationship with Marianne. Revealing his younger perspective, he raps, I said them F-bombs, I ain't know any better.

Mistakenly, I ain't think you'd know any different. See, I was taught words was nothing more than a sound, if ever they was pronounced without any intentions. Kendrick admits his mistake of assuming his cousin wouldn't be offended by the F-sler because there was no malice behind it. He learned that it was the intent behind a word that gave it meaning. And because Kendrick assumed his cousin knew he accepted her, the F-sler would be okay to use in jest. Perhaps he didn't know the history of the word. Perhaps he was too young to recognize how its use as a casual insult is predicated on the assumption that gay men are inferior, a reflection of a largely homophobic society.

Perhaps he didn't consider how uncomfortable Marianne felt when he used it around other kids, who likely didn't accept her like Kendrick did. Perhaps Kendrick didn't see how the language we use is a reflection of our understanding, and that Marianne took Kendrick's F-slers as a sign he didn't really see her. To illustrate this point, Kendrick brings up a true story in which he invited a white girl on stage to perform with him at an Alabama music festival in 2018. There were to wrap his hit Mad City together, a song that contains 16 uses of the Endward. Kendrick assumed that the white girl would know to censor the word, and he assumed wrong.

Audible booze from the crowd began as soon as the white girl said it once, signaling that the majority of them understood the unspoken rule the white girl did not. Kendrick was willing to give her another chance, but only if she censored herself. You got to bleak one single word, though. Oh, I'm sorry. Did I do it? Yeah, you did it. I'm so sorry. Oh, my God. Sorry about that. The girl was so flustered that she ended up

butchering the song immediately. And so Kendrick stopped the performance after a few lines and asked her to leave the stage. Mary Ann uses this incident to educate Kendrick on its use of the Efsler. She says to him, Kendrick ain't no room for contradiction. To truly understand love, switch position. Fsler, Fsler, we can say it together, but only if you let a white girl say N-word. It's somewhat of a twist ending similar to songs like Commons I used to love her, or Kendrick's own, the Black or the Barry or Gloria. where the final line of the song makes you reconsider the song and story entirely. Marianne equates Kendrick's oblivious use of the F-sler to the white girl's oblivious use to the N-word.

Because if Kendrick really feels a word is only as potent as the intention behind it, why would he care if a white girl said the N-word while rapping along to a song? There's no malice behind her words, so why is it a problem? Well, because it reveals a lack of awareness about the historical context of the word, which is inseparable from the legacy of discrimination, marginalization, and abuse, faced by black Americans. Kendrick essentially said as much when asked directly about the incident in a 2018 interview with Vanity Fair. Quote, let me put it to you in its simplest form. I've been on this earth for 30 years. There's been so many things a Caucasian person said I couldn't do.

Get good credit. Buy a house in an urban city. So many things, you can't do that, whether it's from a far or close up. So if I say this is my word, let me have this one word. Please let me have that word." As Kendrick alludes to here, the N-word has been largely reclaimed by Black Americans, and the request that white people not say it under any circumstances is a way to acknowledge not just the harm of the slur, but the tortured history that gives it venom. Omitting the N-word is a gesture that affirms their lived experience, and the experience of their ancestors.

Today, white people saying the word under any circumstances signals ignorance, entitlement, and or racism. When author Tanahasi Coates was asked about white people saying the word while reciting rap songs, he echoed Kendrick's sentiments and emphasized the sense of unconscious entitlement it reveals. When you're white in this country, you're taught that everything belongs to you. You think you had a right to everything. You had to write to go with you.

I mean, in your condition this way, it's not, you know, because you, you know, your hair is a texture, your skin is light. It's the fact that the laws in the culture tell you this. You have to write to go where you want to go, do what you want to do, be however. And people just got to accommodate themselves to you. I think, you know, for white people, I think the experience of being a hip hop fan and not being able to use the word, niggas, actually very, very insightful. It will give you just a little peek into the world of what it means to be black.

Because to be black is to walk through the world and watch people doing things that you cannot do, that you can't join in and do, you know? And so I think there's actually a lot to be learned from refraining. If Kendrick's not okay with white people saying the N-word, even when there's no malice behind it, then why does he think it's okay to say the F slur? Well, that's of course Mary-Anne's point. She told Kendrick, switch positions, have empathy, try to see it from a queer person's perspective, just as he requests that white people see the N-word from black people's

perspective. The implication of the song's ending seems to be that Kendrick learned a new lesson. Where he was once taught that words was nothing more than a sound if they were ever pronounced without any intentions, Mary Ann evolved Kendrick's understanding by revealing his own hypocrisy. If he truly switched positions, he would now understand that the F-sler conjures similar feelings for queer people that the N-word does for black people. He would understand that straight, cisgender people saying the word even in just or without malice signals ignorance, entitlement, and or homophobia. It signals a denial of their lived experience and the history that gives the slur

its venom. What Marianne did was force empathy onto Kendrick by using his own experience with racism as a proxy for queer people's experience with homophobia and transphobia. Similar to the way Kendrick had to evolve past his father's lessons of stoic masculinity we heard in Father Time, Auntie Diaries shows us Kendrick unlearning what he was taught by society about queer people. His ongoing journey to understand them and their history has evolved, and he now knows why he shouldn't say the Fsler. Lesson learned, right? Well, it's not that simple, because Kendrick did say the word throughout Auntie Diaries. He did misgender. He did dead name. Were these mistakes that reflect some blind spots Kendrick still has around the language he uses?

Do they signal a lack of understanding and or entitlement? This is definitely a possibility, and as noted earlier, this was some people's biggest contention with the song. At the same time, we should also consider the possibility that they were intentional and what the implications of those decisions do for the song as a whole. While Kendrick hasn't spoken on Auntie Diaries to He was asked about how he writes his songs in that same Vanity Fair interview we cited earlier. He said, quote, execution is my favorite word. I spend 80% of my time thinking about how I'm going to execute, and that might be a whole year of constantly jotting down ideas,

figuring out how I'm going to convey these words to a person to connect it. What is this word that means this? How did it get here and why did it go there? And how can I bring it back there? Then the lyrics are easy, unquote. Assuming Kendrick's extensive brainstorming process and careful consideration of every word was applied to Auntie Diaries, a song Kendrick knows centers a hot button topic, then why would he voluntarily choose to use the very words he learns are harmful in the story? So one possibility is that Kendrick ultimately felt this would be the most effective way to convey the song's lesson at scale.

As we noted, Kendrick is playing younger versions of himself in the story. And when the F slur is said after he learns his lesson in church, Kendrick is quoting Mary Ann directly. He's rapping from her perspective at that moment. We might equate this with white actors saying the N-word in a movie while playing a racist character. But to make this analogy even closer to Auntie Diaries, what if that movie was written by a white screenwriter? Does a white screenwriter have the artistic license to write white characters saying the N-word if the intent of the movie is to expose the horrors of racism? Kendrick, a straight cisgender male, is both the screenwriter and actor playing multiple roles in Auntie Diaries. Does he have a license to write and perform his own story?

As someone who believes wholeheartedly in the power of art, I personally want to say yes. Kendrick, as an artist, does have that right. He wrote a challenging, self-critical story about his own mistakes, showed his evolution of understanding, and took artistic liberties in order to convey the story powerfully in a way we feel on a visceral level. As we track today, the problematic language can all be attributed to serving a narrative purpose. And if the song ultimately leads to more people using that language less, who are we to tell Kendrick Lamar, one of the greatest artists of our lifetime, how he can or can't deliver his message?

But then I think about Marianne's exercise of switching positions. Ask yourself, would you be okay with a white rapper saying the N-word from his younger perspective or the perspective of his black cousin in a song about discouraging the use of the N-word. I'd like to assume most of us would find that misguided at best, and there would no doubt be enormous pushback to that artist's tone-deaf approach. So is Auntie Diaries any different? When I think of it this way, I want to say no, it's not that different. To Mary Ann's point, what gives Kendrick the right to say the F-sler under any circumstances when most of us would disapprove of a white rapper saying the N-word, even when the intent is pure?

If there is a difference between Auntie Diaries and this white rapper analogy, I think it would have to do with the current state of trans acceptance in society. As you likely know, trans people are currently a hotly debated topic in political discourse and openly transphobic positions are widely vocalized by politicians, media pundits, and religious groups. As recently as January 2025, President Trump signed an executive order called Defending Women from Gender Ideology Extremism and Restoring Biological truth to the federal government. The order requires all federal agencies to recognize only two

fixed sexes, male and female. It also removes federal recognition of gender identity, bans gender neutral language and official documents, and reverses former protections for transgender people. President Trump also signed an executive order banning trans individuals from serving in the military, which was recently upheld by the Supreme Court in May of 2025. These policies are a reflection of a population in which transphobia is widespread. A 2024 poll found that 51% of Americans believe changing one's gender is morally wrong. That number rises significantly to 85% among conservatives and weekly churchgoers. As Kendrick displayed throughout Auntie Diaries, the general lack of education around misgendering, malgendering, and dead naming reflects our

nation's lack of understanding and acceptance of the queer community. The same is true for the F-sler, which most people understand is offensive, but is still commonly used and hasn't been subjected to the same level of societal policing as the N-word. However, it wasn't that long ago that the N-word resembled the F-sler today in terms of social acceptability. In the mid-20th century, it was widely understood the N-word was offensive, but white people still used it, not just as a slur, but also casually or in jest. So in terms of our analogy, perhaps a better comparison would be a white artist sang the N-word in a song discouraging the N-word during the fifth. 50s or 60s, when it was still being frequently used and education around its harm wasn't as widely

understood as it is today. Looking back at a song like that today, the errors of that approach seem obvious to most of us, but we could also recognize it as an artifact of its time, a snapshot of where society was as a whole. And for me, I think that's ultimately where I land with Auntie Diaries, whether by design or by ignorance, Auntie Diaries is a reflection of our time, a time in which the Fsler is understood to be offensive, but still caused. commonly used, a time in which the queer community and trans people specifically are widely misunderstood and openly invalidated, both by our government and a significant portion of the population. Those who are more evolved in their understanding of queer people can easily see the flaws

and auntie diaries and the right to call them out. That public dialogue is essential to advancing the general education of the masses. But the reality is, at this moment in time, there's still a significant portion of the population that mirrors the younger version of Kendrick in this song. And ultimately, I think that was Kendrick's target audience. The song doesn't seem intended for progressives. And Kendrick's overt repeated use of the Fsler ensures that the moral of the story is not lost in nuance. He made it impossible to ignore. And if Kendrick felt using the Fsler would ultimately lead to less people saying it and helped advance general understanding and acceptance

of queer people, everything about Mr. Morrell and the Big Stepers tells us Kendrick would be willing to accept any backlash that came his way. He'd be willing to bear the that cross. It's another reason why Auntie Diaries directly follows Savior, where Kendrick discourages worshipping artists like saints incapable of error, but also criticizes cancel culture that completely discards people when they prove themselves imperfect. Auntie Diaries exist perfectly in the middle of that duality. We can defend Kendrick's every artistic decision because we worship him like a savior, or we could judge, condemn, and cancel him over the song's mistakes. For a similar reason that Kodak Black is on the album, perhaps Auntie Diaries is ultimately meant to challenge us to reject our culture's incentives to polarize in favor of finding some moral middle ground.

Can we condemn the mistakes while recognizing there's more to the song than its shortcomings? Can we see that the song is both Mr. Moral and The Big Stepper? Indeed, as he said on Savior, if Kendrick is the artist that makes us think about it but is not our savior, then Auntie Diaries, a song that is both beautiful and probably. certainly gives us all a lot to think about.