“The soul that is within me no man can degrade”1

Frederick Douglass

Definition

“Soul” is more than a word in African American life; it is an inheritance–a register of survival, expression, and belonging shaped by centuries of struggle and creativity. While traditionally defined as the immaterial essence of a person or animal, within Black culture, “soul” transforms into something far more expansive and vital: a daily practice, a rhythm, and a refuge. Born out of histories of enslavement, segregation, and systemic exclusion, it emerged as both a language and lifeforce through which African Americans reclaimed humanity and asserted beauty in the face of denial. This essay will define and historicize “soul” within its Black American cultural context, setting aside other philosophical or medical meanings that fall outside the scope of this research. Ultimately, all definitions of “soul” are dynamic and key to the African American community. “Soul” traverses many spheres–music, food, art, language–embodying Black resilience and creative power. It functions as both a living archive of Black cultural memory and a transformative force of self-definition.

Background

The word “soul” has acquired many interpretations, but here we will refer to a set of traditions rooted in the African American experience, shaped by histories of enslavement, resistance, and ongoing creativity. Its emergence as a cultural keyword can be traced first to W. E. B. Du Bois, a Black sociologist, historian, and activist, whose 1903 text, The Souls of Black Folk, brought questions of Black interior life, double consciousness, and cultural expression into national discourse in the early Jim Crow era. Writing amid the backlash to Reconstruction and the consolidation of segregation, Du Bois used “soul” to name both the psychic burden and the creative empowerment of Black life under racial capitalism.2 In the mid-twentieth century, the term was used by Southern Black communities used the term as slang to distinguish their culture and sensibilities from white mainstream America. As the Civil Rights and Black Power movements 3 gained momentum in the 50s and 60s, “soul” expanded into an umbrella term that thrived in gospel, rhythm and blues, culinary traditions, and Black visual art, marking out collective expressions of cultural life that were both publicly visible and, at times, internally legible in more complex ways.4

The Souls of Black Folk stands as a cornerstone for understanding the origin and meaning of soul in Black America because Du Bois treats spirituals–what he calls the “sorrow songs”– as both historical testimony and ongoing lifeforce for African American communities. 

These spirituals were “the articulate message of the slave to the world. They tell us in these eager days that life was joyous to the black slave, careless and happy. I can easily believe this of some, of many. But not all the past South, though it rose from the dead, can gainsay the heart–touching witness of these songs. They are the music of an unhappy people, of the children of disappointment; they tell of death and suffering and unvoiced longing toward a truer world, of misty wanderings and hidden ways.”5

W. E. B. Du Bois6 widely known as a literary and cultural theorist who played a pivotal role in shaping “soul” music.

When he describes them as pointing toward a “truer world” and “misty wanderings and hidden ways,” he suggests not only hope beyond suffering, but also a kind of fugitivity or opacity. These songs carry meanings, codes, and longings that cannot be fully accessed or mastered by white listeners. In this sense, “soul” is not just a feeling but a practice of guarded expressiveness, where Black communities come together in ways that resist complete translation or surveillance. 

Black leaders, artists, and entire communities used “soul” as a rallying cry of identity, pride, and unapologetic self-expression, from James Brown’s anthems like “Say it Loud–I’m Black and I’m Proud” that sonically linked gospel intensity to Black Power politics, to Aretha Franklin’s gospel-infused soul performances that demanded both personal collective “respect.” In everyday life, “soul” marked intimate forms of belonging, from church call‑and‑response preaching “sorrow songs” to phrases like “soul brother” or “soul sister” that named kinship beyond blood. It also became visible in afros, dashikis, and other Black-centered styles, in soul food restaurants that turned scarcity into warmth and communal memory, and in visual art, where Black women and queer artists reclaimed the Black body from oppressive expectations through experimental, liberatory aesthetics.  

James Brown – “Say It Loud, I’m Black and I’m Proud” – Live on Soul Train, 1973 7

Soul Music

Soul music remains an energetic and emotionally driven mode of Black expression in which community and identity are valued for their authenticity, reflected in qualities such as spontaneity, emotional honesty, and imperfection. This genre translates various aspects and complexities of Black life through music, rendering grief, joy, protest, and everyday struggle as performances that encourage listeners to share those experiences alongside the artists. The ongoing tensions at the heart of soul music reflect the delicate balance between cultural expectations (to sound properly “Black,” traditional, and politically legible) and artistic freedom (to experiment, cross over, or redefine Blackness), with its meaning continually shaped between Black creative innovation and racialized outsider perceptions that try to fix what “real soul” should be.​

James Brown, widely celebrated as the “Godfather of Soul,” poses in a pinstriped suit and oversized orange glasses, projecting confident Black style and star power in this promotional portrait. 1975 8

James Brown, widely hailed as the “Godfather of Soul,” exemplifies “soul” not only as a musical style but as a profound cultural and political force. James Brown’s music represented a blend of gospel, rhythm, and blues, creating a soulful soundscape with deep roots and associations in Black culture and empowerment during the Civil Rights Movement era. As a key artist associated with the origins of soul music as a genre, “Godfather of Soul” represents the key aspect of James Brown’s contributions as the originator of soul music as a living and vibrant phenomenon that represented both artistic freedom and community pressures in relation to soul music as a genre of music and culture. This poster describes the key transformative effect of James Brown on music and culture, as a genre of music and culture known as soul music. It portrays “soul music” as a key symbol of Black empowerment and transformation in associated social dynamics as well.

The strength of his music pulsed strongest in his 1968 anthem “Say It Loud—I’m Black and I’m Proud,” where he led audiences in a repeated call-and-response refrain to a strong funk bass line, transforming concert halls into a stormy declaration of black pride. Brown’s performance style, with its raw shouts, split-second dance moves, and audible breaths that varied significantly from the pop song polish around him, brought black resilience immediately, physically, and powerfully before the social stage of “soul.”

The spontaneity central to James Brown’s sound expresses an imperfect legacy outlined by scholar Vince Meserko, who argues that, by logic of popular histories, “soul is said to be instinctive, and to have soul suggests that one isn’t guided by the constraints of formal training or the sterile aspirations of a perfect musical sound.”9 In Brown’s case, this instinctiveness manifests through his unstrained yet electrifying vocal breaks and improvisations, rejecting Motown’s polished precision to prioritize visceral Black expression over technical perfection, thereby amplifying soul’s role as authentic cultural defiance. Meserko further notes that “authentic soul… privileges the loose contours of rhythm over the delicate precision of vocal technique,” where “authenticity is an ideal achieved through feeling, emotion, voice, and vibration—not something reflected on philosophically or verified empirically.”10 Authenticity here becomes not intellectual analysis or scientific proof, but frames “soul” as prioritizing physical sensation over cerebral craft.

These perspectives illustrate how soul music functions as a genre, but much more powerfully as a vibrant symbol of Black empowerment through creativity, cultural history, and political struggle. The staying power of soul comes from its communicating the dilemmas of Black life with emotionally compelling performances that commanded recognition of Black humanity. That complicated interaction works even now within social and political, not strictly musical dynamics, which secures “soul” as a key mode of expression within the larger narrative of African American culture and resistance.

Soul Food

Soul food is one of the most representative expressions of “soul,” transforming the tragic conditions of Black survival into a tradition of creativity and community. Emerging from the resourcefulness of enslaved Africans, who turned leftover cuts of meat and other limited ingredients into delicious, sustaining meals, soul food embodies what Christopher Carter calls the preservation of “all aspects of the African American/African diaspora from the colonial period to present-day United States.”11 Its flavors carry the memory of forced labor, but also the celebration and cultural continuity that flourished despite it. Through this lens, soul food is not merely a collection of dishes but serves as a historical archive of Black identity, shaped by both pain and joy.

Soul food originated in the Deep South, including Louisiana, Georgia, and Alabama, where enslaved people were forced to survive on limited, low-quality rations ranging from cornmeal to pig remains. Slaves drew from the African food traditions of frying and stewing and relied on accessible ingredients from Africa, including rice, okra, and peppers, garlic, and many others. By combining these techniques and ingredients with American practices such as smoking to create barbecue sauce and using vinegar to disinfect cuts and enhance flavor, slaves transformed scarce resources into full-fledged meals that reflected a blending of African heritage and American influence. For instance, some of the most notable soul food dishes are chitlins (or chitterlings), cornbread, and collard greens, which were made, respectively, from meticulously cleaned pig intestines, baked cornmeal, and slow-cooked greens and pork scraps, emphasizing how enslaved individuals transformed undesirable leftovers into savory meals.

A meal consisting of chitlins, cornbread, and collard greens, provided by Uncle Lou’s.12

The spread of soul food can be dated to the 1900s during the Great Migration, when approximately six million African Americans moved from the rural South to cities across the United States. As these Black families relocated, they carried their food traditions with them, allowing soul food to spread far beyond its Southern origins. Increased access to ingredients in urban centers enriched the cuisine while preserving its foundational practices. Soul food thus solidified itself as a cultural anchor by connecting generations, geographies, and histories through taste and memory.

In the modern day, soul food’s presence in cities such as Brooklyn demonstrates both its geographic spread and its vulnerability. A large number of soul food establishments in Brooklyn have served their communities for decades, offering affordable meals that made soul food accessible to working-class families. Most notably, Mitchell’s Restaurant was widely recognized as a staple soul food establishment for over 40 years before it was forced to close in 2025 due to economic constraints stemming from COVID-19 and the ongoing pressures of gentrification.13 These closures extend to other soul food restaurants throughout the nation, reflecting a broader pattern in which economic forces threaten not just businesses but also the cultural spaces that sustain Black communal life.

At the same time, soul food continues to evolve through its close relationship with Caribbean cuisine, reflecting the large extent of the African diaspora. Highlighted in the catering menu of The Soul Spot, a Brooklyn-based soul food and Caribbean fusion restaurant, many dishes commonly associated with soul food, such as oxtail, pig feet, cornmeal-based dishes, okra, and plantains, also appear throughout Caribbean culinary traditions.

The catering menu of The Soul Spot, denoting similarities between soul food and Caribbean cuisine14

This blending demonstrates how soul food encompasses African, African American, and Caribbean identities, rather than existing as a fixed or isolated tradition. As recipes adapt across regions and generations, soul food remains a dynamic expression of resilience and joy, shaped by migration, memory, and cultural continuity. Its ongoing evolution affirms soul food not only as a reflection of the past, but as a living practice that continues to nourish diasporic identity in the present.

Soul Art

In visual and performance art, soul art extends the emotional and political dimensions found in soul music into a broader terrain of embodiment, image-making, and self-definition. In Black artistic traditions, “soul” becomes a creative methodology rooted in improvisation, resilience, and the refusal to be fixed by dominant narratives. Soul art does not merely depict Black life, rather, it enacts the movement from trauma to transcendence, transforming histories of dispossession into forms of beauty, complexity, and power. Its aesthetic is grounded in African diasporic creativity, privileging hybridity, spontaneity, and the expressive force of the body. Art scholars often note that soul-based practices operate as strategies of survival: ways to affirm humanity in a visual culture that has long stereotyped or erased Black presence.15

Grace Jones offers one of the most radical embodiments of soul art in the late twentieth century. Her work collapses boundaries between performance, fashion, sculpture, and photography to reclaim her image from the limiting expectations placed on Black performers. While non-Black spectators often rely on racialized ideas of “authenticity” to police what Black art should look like, i.e. what E. Patrick Johnson16 critiques the appropriation and containment of Blackness, Jones refuses these constraints. Her “soul” lies in her fearlessness: an aesthetic of power that merges Blackness, femininity, queerness, and avant-garde experimentation without apology. By exaggerating, distorting, and reinventing her own image, she disrupts both the objectification of Black women and the myth that identity is singular or predetermined.

Jones’s art exemplifies soul as a transformative force: a means of asserting agency within representational systems designed to define Black people from the outside. Her work expands the meaning of “soul” beyond tradition, demonstrating how Black artists continually reimagine the boundaries of expression, liberation, and selfhood.

David Bowie’s “Life on Mars?” (1973)17

Building on this tension between liberation and constraint, “Life on Mars?” by David Bowie treats soul as an existential and aesthetic project rather than a musical lineage, using surreal imagery and androgynous performance to stage identity as something made, not discovered. Yet Bowie’s celebrated freedom also exposes an asymmetry that Appropriating Blackness helps clarify: non-Black artists often receive praise for experimentation with “soulful” affect while Black artists are scrutinized through narrow standards of authenticity. This contrast sharpens the stakes of Grace Jones’s work, which insists on self-definition within a visual economy that has historically constrained Black expression. Contemporary neo-soul artists such as Lauryn Hill, SZA, and Janelle Monáe extend this conversation by blending vulnerability, futurism, and genre hybridity to claim interiority on their own terms. Their music and imagery resist commodified notions of “real” soul by foregrounding emotional complexity, political consciousness, and multiplicity. Read together, Bowie’s visual theatrics and Black neo-soul practices reveal how authenticity is not an essence but a contested performance shaped by power. This framing allows soul art to emerge not as a static tradition, but as an ongoing struggle over who is permitted transformation, experimentation, and full humanity.

Conclusion

“Soul,” as we have shown, cannot be reduced to a fixed definition, aesthetic, or genre. Within African American life, it operates as a living practice, forged through histories of dispossession and sustained by creativity and collective memory. From the sorrow songs Du Bois identified as both testimony and prophecy, to the electrifying performances of soul music, to the everyday rituals of soul food and the radical visual interventions of soul art, “soul” has functioned as a means of survival and self-assertion in the face of structural denial. Across music, food, and visual culture, soul emerges as an archive that holds histories often excluded from dominant narratives, while remaining flexible enough to adapt across generations and geographies. Its power lies in this dynamism: soul resists containment, whether through commercial polish, racialized expectations of authenticity, or external surveillance. Instead, it privileges improvisation, embodiment, and affect as valid forms of knowledge and resistance. As seen in figures like James Brown and Grace Jones, “soul” is not about perfection or legibility, but about the courage to sound, look, and live otherwise.

Ultimately, soul endures because it affirms Black humanity on its own terms. It transforms pain into expression, scarcity into abundance, and constraint into experimentation. In doing so, it remains a vital force of cultural continuity and political possibility: one that insists on the right to complexity, transformation, and most importantly, joy.

Contributors

  • Emma Finnerty
  • Angelina Sagaow
  • Allahji Barry

Footnotes

  1. Frederick Douglass, quoted in Maurice S. Lee, ed., The Cambridge Companion to Frederick Douglass (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2009), 68–69. ↩︎
  2. W. E. B. Du Bois, The Souls of Black Folk (Chicago: A. C. McClurg & Co., 1903), 252. ↩︎
  3. Joshua Clark Davis, “1968: Soul Music and the Year of Black Power,” African American Intellectual History Society, August 28, 2018, https://www.aaihs.org/1968-soul-music-and-the-year-of-black-power/.  ↩︎
  4. Carnegie Hall, “Soul,” Timeline of African American Music, accessed December 17, 2025, https://timeline.carnegiehall.org/genres/soul. ↩︎
  5. W. E. B. Du Bois, The Souls of Black Folk (Chicago: A. C. McClurg & Co., 1903), 252. ↩︎
  6. Elliott Rudwick, “W.E.B. Du Bois,” Encyclopædia Britannica, November 14, 2025, https://www.britannica.com/biography/W-E-B-Du-Bois.  ↩︎
  7. James Brown – Say It Loud, I’m Black and I’m Proud – Live on Soul Train, 1973,” YouTube video, 7:17, posted by “Vin Von Voom,” February 11, 2025, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dx_FoUA729E. ↩︎
  8. National Museum of African American History and Culture, Poster of James Brown, object no. 2008.7.14, Smithsonian Institution, accessed December 17, 2025, https://www.si.edu/object/poster-james-brown:nmaahc_2008.7.14.  ↩︎
  9. Vince Meserko, “An Imperfect Legacy: Soul Music and the Expectations of Authenticity,” Journal of Popular Music Studies 33, no. 2 (2021): 15–22, https://doi.org/10.1525/jpms.2021.33.2.15.  ↩︎
  10. Vince Meserko, “An Imperfect Legacy: Soul Music and the Expectations of Authenticity,” Journal of Popular Music Studies 33, no. 2 (2021): 15–22, https://doi.org/10.1525/jpms.2021.33.2.15.  ↩︎
  11. Andre L. Taylor, “Review of The Spirit of Soul Food: Race, Faith, and Food Justice, by Christopher Carter,” Journal of American Folklore 138, no. 547 (2025): 124–125, https://muse.jhu.edu/article/953804. ↩︎
  12. Uncle Lou’s, “Traditional Chitlins Recipe,” Uncle Lou’s, accessed December 18, 2025, https://louis-foods.squarespace.com/traditional-chitlins-recipe. ↩︎
  13. Christopher Edwards, “Beloved Prospect Heights Eatery Fears Closure Due to Open Streets Program,” BK Reader, May 8, 2024, https://www.bkreader.com/news/beloved-prospect-heights-eatery-fears-closure-due-to-open-streets-program.
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  14. Soul Spot Restaurant, “Soul Food & Caribbean Cuisines,” Soul Spot Restaurant, n.d., accessed December 18, 2025, https://soulspotrestaurant.com/order-online/.
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  15. Royster, Francesca T. 2009. “‘Feeling like a Woman, Looking like a Man, Sounding like a No-No’: Grace Jones and the Performance of Strangé in the Post-Soul Moment.” Women & Performance: A Journal of Feminist Theory 19 (1): 77–94. doi:10.1080/07407700802655570. ↩︎
  16. Johnson, E. Patrick. Appropriating Blackness : Performance and the Politics of Authenticity. Duke University Press, 2003. ↩︎
  17. David Bowie, “Life on Mars?” YouTube video, 4:09, uploaded by David Bowie (Official Artist Channel), July 9, 2015, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AZKcl4-tcuo ↩︎