Spike Lee’s Oscar… A Different Perspective

Spike Lee and Lessons From Drake…

Spike Lee finally won an Oscar at the 91st Academy Awards. Long time coming and well deserved. His film, BlacKkKlannsman, landed three nominations and Best Adapted Screenplay proved to be the winner. I must admit, I was somewhat shocked to see his jubilant reaction to winning his first Oscar. Maybe Barbra Streisand’s introduction, and Samuel L. Jackson, who appeared in some of Lee’s first movies, presenting the actual award contributed to the adulation and overflowing of emotions that overcame him when he realized he had won. But after watching him celebrate, dance, and jump-hug Sam Jackson, I couldn’t help but think about Drake’s acceptance speech at the Grammy’s just weeks previous when he won for Best Rap Song…

“If there’s people who have regular jobs who are coming out in the rain, in the snow, spending their hard earned money to buy tickets to come to your shows, you don’t need this right here, I promise you that. You already won.” – Drake 

“You don’t need this right here… you already won.”

Of course, he was referring to his Grammy award. Whether he won or lost, it’s safe to say Drake was going to be ok. His message to up and coming artists was that you essentially don’t need this award, or any award for that matter, to validate your success or greatness… you’ve already won. When you factor in valid critiques of racism regarding Hollywood’s unwillingness to recognize African-American artists on stage and talent in front of and behind the camera, Drake’s comments truly hit home. Ironically, his mic was cut shortly thereafter and we couldn’t hear the rest of this speech.

So while I’m happy for Spike, deep down I wish he would’ve given a similar speech as Drake and kept his composure. As someone who’s been very outspoken about social justice, institutional racism and equity in Hollywood, his reaction screamed finally accepted… recognition that I belong. Such a response gives too much power to the Academy and institution which has failed over and over to recognize his talent and the talent of others who look like him. Why not take a Drake approach… because before people were coming out in the rain and spending their hard earned money to see Drake, they were doing it for Spike. 

Do the Right Thing, Jungle Fever, Malcolm X, He Got Game, Inside Man, Love and Basketball… the list is long.

Spike has been winning for a long time… whether he knows it or not. We’re not here to judge Spike, but future Spike Lee’s of all ages, races, and cultures, watched his acceptance speech. We just hope they realize their greatness and power long before receiving an award that might not come for 30 years… 30 years after their fans have already recognized their talent and deemed them great. 

Clothes Don’t Fit

I previously wrote an article about the blackface incidents circulating the news. Gucci, the luxury fashion brand; however, deserves additional dialogue for their attempt to sell a blackface sweater.

Let’s be clear, all acts of blackface are egregious and the usual cockamamie excuses for them are equaling as insulting, but the Gucci incident is more costly than the overpriced sweater they tried to sell. 

Simply put, Gucci and most luxury brands, whether it be alcohol, cars, watches, or apparel, have largely become household names due to one group of people… hip hop artists. 

You and I both will never check the time on our Rolex watch flooded with diamonds while jumping into a Maybach in Prada flip flops… spoiler alert… neither will most rappers. Those braggadocious lyrics may not mean much; however, their effect has left an imprint on an entire culture. 

That culture being people fixated on luxurious brands… brands that have put forth little to no effort or appreciation for some of the people buying their products. By people, I mean Black people. 

From Prada to Gucci you rarely find Black models in their ads. They host virtually no community engagements or services at all. Their company is composed primarily of well to do White people and their stores rarely have Black employees. 

I get why the lopsided relationship exists between luxury brands and Black people.

Spoiler alert, they don’t want us buying and promoting their brands!

Remember when Tommy Hilfiger said, “I wish the rappers didn’t wear my stuff?” He received major backlash and immediately Black people stopped wearing Tommy Hilfiger. Tommy Hilfiger was actually saying what most designers were thinking. 

So why do Black folks in particular still buy brands that make every effort to show they have no interest in them or even their dollars???

Well… 

The American economy is a consumer based economy, and the supporting culture is materialism. Black people in this nation have been ostracized from housing loans to draconian drug laws. And if there’s one aspect of American culture where Black people feel like they can briefly escape these oppressions, it’s through fashion, buying the most expensive items… flossing as they say, or at least it seems. 

Whether it’s a new Benz, a very expensive handbag, or the latest designer shoes, such products immediately grant American consumers the attention and praise they crave, for whatever reason… regardless of their race.

Lastly, many luxury fashion brands have no interest in the inclusion of Black people, which is evident by their repeated blunders and cultural mishaps. Yet, many Black people continue to spend their hard earned money on these brands. It’s like the clothes don’t fit, but we continue to try them on in hopes of breaking them in one day.  

Similar Read: Stop Giving Out Black Hall Passes

Stop Giving Out Black Hall Passes

Remember hall passes? I’m probably dating myself, but a hall pass was something needed in grade school to roam the halls during class time. I’m sure today there’s a hall pass tablet or something, but in the ancient days of the 1990s, we had handwritten hall passes which gave proof to any authoritative figure walking around to see we had a legitimate reason to be in the hallway.

A hall pass or a “pass” seems to always be given by Black people to those who have done blatant wrong against them or their people. On the latest episode of Oh That’s Racist, a few incidents have transpired, and as quickly as they became news people were defending the actions of the accused racists.

Stop! Please for the sake of decency and respect, stop defending wrong.

Liam Neeson

The English actor recently confessed that he wanted to seek revenge against ANY Black man after learning that a female friend of his was sexually assaulted. For the simpleton Hollywood crowd and fans of the “Taken” movie series stop defending him! 

His mentality lines up with the same psyche that escapes every other group of people in the world… except White men. And that psyche is to classify an entire group of people based on the acts of one. White men have done everything from running Ponzi schemes to the creation of domestic organizations that have burned homes, churches, and killed thousands of people including children… yet no one attributes that behavior as a cause to kill any White man. White men are judged as individuals, if at all. Never as an entire group of people. So no pass on this. 

Blackface

For the elected officials caught with pictures of themselves in blackface, there’s no such thing as “youthful” mistakes regarding your actions. A youthful mistake is signing up for an 8 AM class during your first semester at college. There’s nothing youthful about blackface. Nothing. There was never a time when blackface was an “innocuous” thing to have fun with. When these elected officials were younger they knew better and didn’t care. Why? See the previous paragraph. No pass again. 

Gucci Blackface

The blackface sweater Gucci attempted to promote and sell is a learning lesson for Black people who overvalue so-called “designer fashion.” First, the fact that an idea of a blackface sweater went from idea to drawing board to presentation to approval to production to promotion to the public, shows at no point in time did anyone with power within Gucci understand the historical context of blackface as highly problematic. That’s VERY telling. Secondly, yet another “designer fashion” brand has little to no respect for Black consumers, nor use for their cultural perspective, only their dollars. I hope this example encourages some Black people to stop placing such high values on material items and brands produced by companies and corporations that literally place no value on them as consumers. 

Class dismissed! 

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A REUNION IN LAGOS

You know that scene from Back to the Future? The one where Marty McFly, the main character, delivers a thrilling rendition of the song “Johnny B. Goode” on that red guitar?

It’s one of my favorites.

During that scene, Marty is on stage with a band called “Marvin Berry and the Starlighters.” As Marty continues to rip on the strings, Marvin can’t believe his ears. He runs to call his cousin, Chuck Berry, the famous musician who actually sang the original song in real life:

“Chuck, Chuck! It’s Marvin,” he said. “You know that new sound you were looking for? Well, listen to THIS!”

Listen to this….

In 2015, I received a similar phone call from my friend Ian who’s like family to me. At the time, he was working for an American multinational corporation while on rotation in Lagos, Nigeria.

Ian was so excited. He was telling me all about this new sound he’d encountered one night in Lagos. He described the sound as a combination of Jamaican Dancehall and American Pop music.

Now I knew I could trust Ian’s musical taste. Ever since I met the guy twenty-five years ago, we’ve spent countless nights dancing to Reggae music well into the early hours of the morning. While I tend to rumble around like a fool, Ian is actually a good dancer. He smoothly glides around the floor and he never seems to get tired. The guy can also pick up just about any dance move within seconds.

So when he sent me a few Afrobeat songs, I wasn’t surprised that I got hooked and couldn’t get enough of this new delightful rhythm.

Ian, who had been stationed in Nigeria for four months, quickly fell head over heels in love. I’ll never forget when he came back because he couldn’t stop talking about his life there. The people, the food, the accents, the clothing. He was gushing. So I promised him I would visit Lagos one day.

Then I met his friend, Chukwudubem (or “Dubem” for short). The instant you meet Dubem you just get a good vibe from him. He’s a salt of the earth kind of guy. A cool, laid-back, soft-spoken gentleman who quietly makes his presence known in whatever room he’s in. I met Dubem in 2016 when I was partying with Ian near his new rotation in Dubai. Dubem was born and raised in Nigeria and the more I talked to him, the more curious I got about Lagos.

Over the course of my stay in Dubai, we talked for what felt like for hours and when I returned home we continued to message one another on WhatsApp. I’d ask him questions like: What did he think of Black Lives Matter? Who’s better: Patoranking or Gyptian? What did he think of Black Panther?

Sometimes I wanted to get his perspective on a certain topic. And other times (I have to admit) I wanted him to validate a point that I had been debating with my American friends on the African diaspora.

With every exchange, my curiosity continued to grow. Then one day he mentioned he was getting married to a beautiful Nigerian woman whom he had met in Dubai. He shared that he may not be able to extend an official wedding invite but that I was welcome to tag along with Ian. If the stars aligned I may even be able to attend the after party.

“So you’re saying I can crash your wedding?!” I replied.

He said “yes”! Soon after that, I bought a ticket to Lagos. I’d take off in December.

A few months before we left, I had received an email from 23andMe informing me that they had been able to drill deeper to clarify my ancestry results. Previously, my results showed that I was generally 58% African, 33% European, and 6% Native American. I opened the app on my phone and was pleasantly surprised to learn that the highest percentage of my African ancestry is from—you guessed it—Nigeria!

I am typically never one to get excited about trips abroad until a few days before I leave. However, I had been excited about this trip for months. Between constantly listening to Afrobeat music, to meeting Dubem, and the recent discovery of my Nigerian ancestry, the anticipation for this trip had surpassed any feeling that I had ever had stepping onto an airplane.

But beneath the excitement there was a bit of unease. Here I was onboard a midnight ten-hour direct flight across the Atlantic Ocean to return to a continent that I had never physically been. My mind was racing with questions like:

What if the Nigerians weren’t friendly towards me?

I never go anywhere for eleven days … What if I get bored while I am there for so long?

What if being an American Afro-Latino kid from Brooklyn is not welcome by the people I encounter?

What the hell am I going to wear to this wedding?

Do I know enough dance moves to keep up with Ian?

What if my ancestors were never stolen off the continent to begin with?

When I arrived in Nigeria, I was quickly taken aback by all of the commotion. Apparently, Christmas time in Nigeria is the busiest season of the year. Many Nigerians return from abroad to visit family for the holidays so the streets are jammed with traffic. The humid air is filled with the melodic percussions of Afrobeat music pouring out of every car and bar. Sometimes even today I hear that symphony in my head — the ruckus of the cars, the horns and irresistible beat of “Able God” — and I can’t help but break out my finest Shaku Shaku dance.

All of the top Nigerian musicians are in town. Their concert billboards were plastered everywhere. For me, it’s like a Who’s Who of all the artists I had come to love over the years. I can only imagine that this is what Detroit must have been like during the Motown era in the 60s or the Bronx during the birth of hip-hop in the early 80s.

The club scene is electric. Filled wall to wall with joyous dancing Black bodies. It’s a beautiful sight to behold.

One night, I was doing my usual rumble on the dancefloor when Ian taps me on the shoulder to leave. But I was feeling the vibe and it was only 1 a.m. I wanted more.

“Why are we leaving?” I asked. “The music is so good here!”

A sly smile creeped across Ian’s face, “The music is good everywhere in Lagos!” he replied.

Ian wasn’t exaggerating. Every club we went to had amazing music. Every now and then the DJ would play two or three American songs but that’s it.

After a week of clubbing every night I had taken on the moniker, “Chike from BK.” A nod to my roots but still a label of my difference. We had debated if I might be of the Hausa or Igbo tribe. And ultimately settled on Igbo because of my stature and regal demeanor (kidding).

But alas we were nearing the end of our voyage. The day had arrived for the first of two wedding ceremonies. First, the traditional wedding which was a beautiful tribal ceremony that joined the two families as one and felt more “African.” Then two days later, the “White” wedding which was a more Western style ceremony with a lavish reception. I was ready to immerse myself into these rich cultural experiences.

I’ve been a groomsmen in an inordinate amount of weddings back home. Just off the top of my head I can count about ten, so I understand the jitters of a wedding day. Regardless of my involvement, I always try my best to stay in the periphery and be as helpful as I can to keep the day flowing smoothly. Sometimes I throw in a joke or two to keep the mood light.

Dubem had reached out to get my clothing measurements before I arrived in Lagos so I wouldn’t feel left out. To my surprise, on the morning of the traditional wedding ceremony, I learned that I would be dressed exactly like the groomsmen. I felt a strong sense of belonging as I put on my brown hat, white top, and what can only be described as a pink wrap skirt.

I was ready to attend this meaningful cultural ceremony but still wanted to add a little Brooklyn flavor to my outfit so I slightly tilted my hat to the side.

Before the ceremony, the wedding party began to take pictures and I watched observantly on the sidelines. Then suddenly, Dubem invited me to join them as if I were a member of his family. Stunned, I initially declined as I felt out of place. Most of the members of the wedding party were lifelong friends of the bride and groom.

I don’t know about you, but my parents and I have gone through their wedding photos many times over years and I have asked about every single person represented in those photographs. I was honored that this Afro-Latino kid from Brooklyn by way of Grenada, Puerto Rico, and Cape Verde would forever be documented in Dubem and Ore’s wedding photos.

Maybe one day when their children point to me in their wedding photos they can tell my story.

Maybe they can tell their children about our collective story as we across the African diaspora continue to reconnect with our roots.

Maybe they can share with their children that love — the love of music, the love amongst friends, and the romantic love between partners — has always brought us together.

As I stood there with the sound of cameras flashing, I began to reflect on my ancestors. Their son was back home for the first time. They’d be happy to know this son of theirs was welcomed back by one of his best friends Ian, embraced by his new friend Chukwudubem, and moved to dance by Afrobeats into the wee morning hours. As I envision our ancestor’s benediction upon us, I see our reunion bringing a smile to their faces.

…That’s the new sound I was looking for. The sound of belonging. 

FUBU

Back in 1998, the most coveted and popular fashion brand was FUBU. FUBU, aka “For Us, By Us”, founded in 1992 by Daymond John, J. Alexander Martin, Keith Perrin and Carlton Brown, went from John (“Shark Tank” guy) mortgaging his home for $100,000, and using that as seed money to lead FUBU to peak revenues of $350 million in annual global sales.

FUBU hasn’t been a popular brand in years, and has only recently come up for air in that “Atlanta” episode; however, it’s still a profitable company. FUBU currently earns roughly $200 million a year – primarily from a global market, but still a shocker right?

If the common person knew those figures their response would probably be of laughter and stating something like, “that many people still buying FUBU.”

Why is that?

Regardless of its popularity, shouldn’t FUBU always be celebrated due to it truly being a major fashion company for us and by us? 

FUBU, led me to think about other Black organizations that are frequently questioned for various reasons. The two institutions that quickly came to mind were historically black colleges and universities aka HBCU’s and Black Greek Organizations. (I’ll expound on HBCU’s in another article.)

First, as a proud member of Kappa Alpha Psi, I want to wish all the January organizations a happy Founders Day. January is home to five of the nine predominantly Black Greek organizations.

January 5th – Kappa Alpha Psi

January 9th – Phi Beta Sigma

January 13th – Delta Sigma Theta

January 15th – Alpha Kappa Alpha

January 16th – Zeta Phi Beta

Alpha Phi Alpha, Omega Psi Phi, Iota Phi Theta, and Sigma Gamma Rho were founded throughout other months in the year.

FUBU was created to have a voice and influence in the fashion industry, an industry that historically did not want to include Black people during the planning and creation phase of fashion, only the (consumer) purchasing part was okay for Black people. Black Greek organizations were created under the same segregating circumstances.

With the focus on being a harbinger for young Black students during their undergraduate years, Black Greek organizations were founded due to being barred from entry by the White fraternities and sororities on their respective college campus.

Socially, they were also formed to keep intact the bond established during Black student collegiate years and post-graduation, thus the creation of alumni chapters.

Though institutional racism isn’t as obvious as it once was, social racism has yet to lose its touch. To date, there are still far too many people in very important positions that simply do not want the inclusion of Black people into their organizations.

While the FUBU brand isn’t a fashion choice of my liking, I will always support their clothing line for the purpose it seeks. Just as FUBU isn’t a brand choice for some, there’s legitimate indignation against Black Greek organizations due to the account of some of its members. Those individual members will never do enough to sully the history and purpose of Black Greek organizations, a history and purpose we all can wear proudly even without wearing the letters. 

Rich, White, and Male – The Perfect Recipe For Privilege

By now, it feels like most everyone has seen the viral video of Covington Catholic High School student, Nick Sandmann’s encounter with elder of the Omaha Nation, Nathan Phillips at the Indigenous People’s March that took place in Washington D.C. Phillips sings and beats his drum as Sandmann (wearing a Make America Great Again hat, a well-known symbol of hatred) stands in an uncomfortably close proximity to him, staring him down and smirking tauntingly. The video was shared on social media and instantly sparked national conversation.

According to an article from The Washington Post, Nathan stated that he “felt threatened” by Sandmann and the group of teenage boys, some who were also wearing MAGA hats. As public outrage continued to increase, defense of Nick and his peers began to pour in as well. Some Twitter users — including Donald Trump — felt that the backlash was unfair.

However, other Twitter users were aware of the double standard that these defenses represent.

Donald Trump’s defense of Sandmann and his classmates is especially hypocritical, considering that he took out full page advertisements in all four of New York City’s major newspapers, calling for The Central Park 5 (a group of Black and Latino boys accused of rape and assault) to be given the death penalty. Even after they were exonerated by DNA evidence, Trump has refused to apologize. The difference between the boys at Covington High and The Central Park 5?

The boys at Covington High are White.

Nick and his classmates that attended the Indigenous People’s March wearing MAGA hats and making racist gestures have been made out to be victims of persecution. Defenders say that the general public is being too hard on them because they are just children. However, when Black children are murdered by the police, they don’t receive this type of empathy. When 12-year-old Tamir Rice was shot and killed within seconds of police arrival at the park that he was sitting in, he was blamed for his death and repeatedly referred to as a man, a reminder that victimhood and youthful innocence are often denied to Black children. This is similar to the murder of 18-year-old Michael Brown, who at the time of his death was no more than a couple of years older than Sandmann, who is a junior in high school. After being shot and killed in Ferguson, Missouri, many did not perceive Brown to be a victim or anyone’s child. Michael Brown was blamed for his death for a variety of factors, including his height, weight, and an allegedly checkered past that led the New York Times to refer to him as “no angel.” Michael Brown, unlike Nick Sandmann, was not given the chance to make a television appearance and tell his side of the story. He, like Tamir Rice, was denied humanity even in death. Childhood is something that Black children are routinely stripped of, yet it is given to white children in abundance.

White male privilege allows Nick Sandmann to antagonize a Native American man and be given the chance to do a segment on the Today Show. His wealth — another form of privilege — is what allowed his family to hire a PR team to spin the story. White male privilege is what allows him and his peers to be defended due to their youth, meanwhile, Black children are told they deserve bullets, and Brown children much younger than them are separated from their parents, then locked in cages while being told they deserve to be there. The second chances, forgiveness, patience, and protection that White males like Sandmann, along with Brock Turner and Brett Kavanaugh are often given, are not provided to children of color. White children often have racist behavior written off as nothing more than a “youthful indiscretion”, while Black and Brown children are often jailed or killed for actual mistakes made during our youth. We as a society must continue pushing back, demanding accountability, and working to dismantle the system of white supremacy that allows such privilege to exist. As long as white privilege continues to be upheld in this country, White boys like Nick Sandmann will continue to escape facing consequences for their actions, and we will continue to suffer as a result.

I’m Tired of “Wokeness”

Wokeness. You’ve heard of this term. If you are a member of the Black community, you most likely have come across this term through everyday vernacular and if you are a student of color in college, this word has been thrown around in almost any conversation regarding equality rights and progress for underrepresented individuals in depreciated communities. Wokeness is a mental state coined by people of color declaring knowledge upon the current marginalization of Blacks, women, Latinx, LGBT+, poor, and working-class groups. What may have started out as genuinely powerful philosophy has transformed into a popular term. One that has enforced a mentality that progress is only through performative wokeness rather than different intellectual, conversational, and communal spheres.

I’m tired of “wokeness”. Because those who have used it have used it solely to advance their own purposes. We regurgitate the same information. We select individuals and praise them to push their agenda of “wokeness” that services individualistic people in the group. In the Black community specifically, social justice warriors tend to service straight BLack men the most. Their prerogatives seek to validate and confirm old information. Although this information is important and should be supported. Communities of color specifically Black communities have evolved into popularism and elitism online. Social Justice Warriors are influenced by who follows them as well as their audience. Black culture sells. And social movements are sometimes the sole proprietors of mass profit. If not “woke” individuals are benefitting from social enterprise, they benefit from popularism.

We thrive off popularism – especially within the college atmosphere. Where social media likes, retweets, and reblogs dictate and reinforce our success and popularity. As fluid and beneficial social media pages can be i.e. sparking movements like Black Lives Matter, pushing for clemency against wrongly indicted women, and exposing sexual offenders for the world to see, online popularity and social media effects are detracting from real-life conversations, progress and success that would be exhibited in college culture today, all masked in the ideology of wokeness.

However, wokeness has been tested time and time again in the real infringement and harm of certain populations. When media influencers that we love say something against the most popular rhetoric, when we disagree within a marginalized community there is an urge to cast out these people and continue a paradigm of “wokeness”. It’s a hierarchal approach that detracts and limits our conversations on how to fix certain aspects within Black communities. It makes popularism and what is most agreed upon the agenda of engagement instead of encouraging difficult conversations within educational institutions. I am not advocating for limiting knowledge on the difficulties that minority and certain populations go through. Instead, I am advocating for the humanization of these groups. That they are victims of systemic oppressions but also that they can be limiting to their approach of engaging different dialogue across lines. And until we eliminate performative wokeness, we cannot grow our community affairs, detracting from our philosophy of growth and progress.

Surviving R. Kelly… You Knew And Said Nothing?

Surviving R. Kelly aired last week. A 6-part documentary that shook the country and had everyone talking. The details shared in the documentary were tragic, infuriating, and triggering from many victims of sexual abuse… physical, sexual, and mental abuse, isolationism, starving, total control, and complete brainwashing. Whether the documentary was good is up for debate, but it did allow these victims and survivors to tell their story, and that is and should be the most important takeaway. 

Let’s assume everyone has heard of his predatory and sexual abuse allegations over the years. But when he surprisingly beat his case, and released instant classics like Ignition (Remix) and Step in the Name of Love, many of us let go of the allegations in favor of his music catalog, which inevitably continued to fund his sickness. That’s a hard truth, because while the outrage from seeing the documentary is genuine, it’s 10-20 years too late, and because of it dozens if not hundreds of more young girls were likely abused. 

Black children, Black young women, deserve better… from society, and specifically everyone who was in contact with Robert Kelly and witnessed his behavior… from his managers, assistants, producers, label-mates, other artists, Sparkle, close friends, many of these girls parents who thought their daughter was the next Whitney Houston and despite knowing Robert’s past believed he could help their daughter reach stardom, everyone of-age who witnessed such behavior at parties and decided not to speak up, and so on… over 30 years, that list is long.

Numerous people in the documentary mentioned seeing or knowing of him visiting Kenwood High School as a grown man. You were cool with that? You knew he had a bed in the middle of his studio and witnessed young girls constantly around him and at the studio, some as young as 12-years-old, and you were cool with that? Yes, clearly you were because you continued to let it happen. Shame on you and your lack of morals and courage. 

Robert Kelly directly and indirectly fed and supported a lot of people through his ingenious music ability, and unfortunately, that was more important to them than the safety and protection of these girls. Even Sparkle, who witnessed his activity over decades including the slave-like treatment of his ex-wife Andrea Kelly, thought it was a good idea to introduce her niece to him in hopes of her making it big. Epic fail; she ended up being one of the victims filmed on the infamous sex-tape, excuse me child pornography, that was leaked and seen by millions.

They all deserve to go to jail. 

In a society where criminal injustice and institutional racism is evident at every corner, we must ask ourselves… if these girls were White, would Robert still be abusing girls today? Would he be a free man and up to last year still booking shows and writing music for other mainstream artists? 

Robert Kelly is apparently not doing too well financially. And movements of protest to stop his shows and digital streams are finally beginning to gain traction. 

While many are frustrated and searching for answers, some, on the other hand, are blaming the victims, giving excuses, and attempting to justify Robert Kelly’s nearly 30-year run of abusing minors. These girls weren’t fast nor were they chasing stardom and therefore deserved such abuse. They were taken advantage of by a predator and a lot of adults willingly let it happen. That simple. There are Robert Kelly’s all around us. If you know one, if you see one, or if you know a victim who might be in a similar situation, speak up and try to assist. There is no amount of money or friendship strong enough to allow the abuse of a minor.

The Struggle Is Black, The Word Is Black

Language is a social contract. We agree on the meaning of words and consequently we can communicate.

We agree that some words are offensive so that we can use them to offend. If “f*ck you!” was not offensive, then it would have no meaning when we said it to someone we were angry with. 

Offensive words are generally determined in the aggregate, via all of the mechanisms of culture: Media, Communities, Families, Government, Entertainers, and so on.

So who is allowed to say the N-Word?

Generally, it is impolite to comment on someone who is overweight as being “fat.” A person who has weight issues may self-ridicule, but to address that person’s issues for them is commonly considered offensive or cruel.

Likewise, it is rude to call someone ugly or hideous if they are disfigured or unfortunately featured (whatever that may mean, after all beauty is in the eye of the beholder). 

Weight and appearance struggles belong to the individuals that bare them.

So, I would say that the N-Word represents centuries of torture, murder, rape, ridicule, and exclusion endured by African-Americans, and therefore the word belongs to them.

The word was (and sadly still is) used as a weapon specifically against African-Americans. To defang the word, the Black Community over the last century has taken the N-Word from racists and claimed it as their own. This seems just.

The struggle is Black, the word is Black.

In short: America’s social contract regarding the N-Word is that African-Americans can use it however they see fit and it is simply off limits for other Americans.

Most all Americans agree to this contract, at least the ones who understand privilege and history. Even racists tend to fear the word because of how strong the national understanding has become, and how damaging the punishment for misuse.

Are there exceptions? There are always exceptions, but I’d say that even the exceptions are determined by the Black Community – which is also a nebulous concept, comprised of Families, Media, respected Celebrities, etc.

“But why do Black people get to say something and not me? That’s racist!,” says the ignorant person who is unable to understand historical nuance and the complexity of linguistics.

Using the N-Word assumes ownership of the word, and the majority of our modern society has decided that non-Black people simply don’t own it.

Even non-Black people who are extremely allied to the Black Community and given permission in their own Black social circles to use the word generally understand not to say it outside of those limited, friendly circumstances. One person may have a social contract with his or her friends, but this does not typically extend into the rest of society (until the issue has resolved once and for all everywhere in the country).

Will there come a day when anyone can use the word without offense? Will the N-Word ultimately share a status with other historically racist words that no longer offend anyone because the group of people the word insults is no longer disenfranchised? Perhaps.

But until that day, if I am asked: “Can non-Black people say the N-Word?” 

I would say, “No. At least not until the Black Community says yes.” 

“I Haven’t Found (The Humor In) It, Nor Do I Seek It”

“You’ve found the humor of it, I haven’t found it, nor do I seek it.” – Jerry Seinfeld

A video from 2011 recently resurfaced of comedians Chris Rock, Louis CK, Jerry Seinfeld, and Ricky Gervais, discussing the controversial use of the N-word. Chris Rock surprisingly gave Louis CK a pass to say the word and Jerry Seinfeld appeared to be the only one not willing to jump in and say the word…

Chris Rock: “He’s the Blackest White guy I fucking know.”

Louis CK: “You’re saying I’m a nigger?”

Chris Rock: “Yes… you are the nigger-est fucking White man I have ever (met).”

Moments later, Seinfeld added some much-needed clarity by admitting he doesn’t get it, nor has he ever tried to get it regarding his comedy. They all kept laughing, but if there was ever a time to push back regarding the use of a racial slur that is inevitably tied to horror and dark times in American History, it was then. While many people would’ve expected Chris, the only African-American in the room, to bring that clarity, it was Jerry instead.

Is this clip nearly 8 years old, sure. Why is it resurfacing now, who knows? But what we do know is that this word is beyond controversial, and it immediately caused people to react, and it wasn’t in support of Chris, Louis, or Rick… all of whom had a great time using the term and hysterically laughing about it.

Some of those reactions were caught on Twitter…

 

 

 

 

How do you feel about the word? And does Chris, as the only African-American on the set, deserve more blame than the other 3 comedians?