Dreams of Wakanda

by with 2 Comments CultureFeatured

I’ve never been an avid comic book reader. I’ve never participated in cosplay. I’ve never felt a strong sense of Afrocentrism. Nevertheless, although feeling a little sheepish, I found myself in a dashiki joined by three close friends bubbling with excitement to see Black Panther on opening night during “Black History Month.” Similar to how I felt when I bused down to Washington D.C. to witness Barack Obama’s inauguration in 2009, I knew that I wanted to be a part of this monumental moment in cinematic history. Although this was more than just cinematic history, this was history.

I walked into the movie theatre in downtown Brooklyn and immediately saw a group of ladies wearing heels and African print dresses. The theatre was buzzing and it was at that moment where I realized that the excitement that I had read about on the internet was not only palpable but I was apart of the experience as well. I’ve probably seen hundreds of movies in the theatre but I had never experienced this level of excitement within the black community since Obama’s inauguration. Strangers were dapping each other, positively affirming each other’s clothing, staging photoshoots in front of the film’s poster, and for the first time ever there was an anti-bootlegging movement. In other theatres, they began the film by singing the Black National Anthem, Lift Every Voice and Sing.

Over the last ten years, our community has witnessed videos of fatal violence against black bodies in American streets. We’ve seen the bodies of Mike Brown, Eric Garner, Walter Scott, Tamir Rice, Alton Sterling, Philando Castile, and Terrence Crutcher – to name a few – all lifeless in American streets. Something that I must painfully and dangerously admit that our culture has become desensitized to. If you’re like me and you view cinema as an escape from reality, then you know that most Black actors have largely not been portrayed in positions of prestige. Hollywood seems to only cast and awards us for subjugated roles as slaves, gangsters, and maids which only seem to reiterate false narratives of my community. We have and will always be more than the images in which Hollywood portrays us.

Even though I had always been a huge fan of past superhero movies The Meteor Man, Blankman, and Blade as a kid, I knew the importance of seeing a big budget superhero film written, directed, and staring black artists. Seeing the images of people that look like you as superheroes is critically important for the subconscious of little boys and girls. After all, the first time I ever dressed up for Halloween at 24-years-old was as Green Lantern.

In 1975, a relatively unknown 27-year-old Director directed a movie that became a blockbuster hit. Jaws launched the now iconic and wildly lucrative career for famed Director, Steven Spielberg. My hope is that after also directing Fruitvale Station and Creed that this is the road that lies ahead for Black Panther Director Ryan Coogler’s career.

That said, I have always been skeptical of anything that has hype surrounding it. So I won’t lie, I was skeptical of actually how good the storyline of this film would be. Less than an hour into this film, I knew that this was on the way to being my favorite movie ever. Not kidding, Hitch has been my favorite movie for over a decade and I remember seeing that film in theatres too. For those that know me well, know that this is a big deal. A positive black film that portrays African and American black people displaying power, love, happiness, fatherhood, national pride, loyalty, intellect, innovators of technology, a dope dap and a tribal monarchy that is founded on physical strength delighted my soul and aligned with who I am. In a lot of ways, that narrative is what the Soulful Silverback blog is all about. So you could imagine that I almost leaped out of my seat when I saw M’Baku, leader of the Jabari Tribe, on screen!

After the excitement and love of the post-film photoshoot subsided, I left the film saddened that the streets of Brooklyn weren’t the streets of Wakanda. I was even more saddened that as a result of colonization, revisionist history, the genocide of the slave trade, and corruption – Wakanda was just a figment of Stan Lee’s imagination and not a real place. My mind began to soar with the idea that what if Wakanda could have been real? What if Erik Killmonger’s idea of black liberation came true and the continent of Africa united to become a military and economic world power? What if our African brothers and sisters had come to rescue us? What if those of us across the diaspora all across the Americas engaged in the healing process with our dear African brothers and sisters to restore the years that the locusts have eaten to make the dream of Wakanda a reality? What if…?.What if…? What if…? ..but until our liberation is a reality then Wakanda Forever!

This article was originally published on 1 March 2018. 

Similar Read(s): LCR Perspectives on Black Panther

Are We Surprised?

by with 7 Comments CultureFeaturedGen Z

It’s all over the news. Another black man was murdered. Two white men chased and shot Ahmaud Arbery in broad daylight and they sat peacefully in their home for months, without remorse or conviction for what they had done. Ahmaud Arbery’s shooting comes as no surprise to me but I, like many black and brown people across the nation, am grieving.

Amidst COVID-19, black and brown families are suffering – from physical health problems, hunger, distress, and many ailments brought by a long history of inequalities. However, Ahmaud’s shooting hit me hard. I often would try to stay fit by jogging outside my neighborhood. How do I know I won’t be shot like Ahmaud? My brother, a tall skinny runner who recently took up jogging outside, could have been a younger Ahmaud, a Trayvon Martin or Tamir Rice. The black community has no time to grieve. The black community must deal with the current pandemic AND the threat of white nationalism and violence. We are being hunted at the mercy of others, machismo wrapped in the enjoyment of killing prey and the prey happened to be an innocent man jogging. Words cannot describe the feelings surrounding his death. I am concerned but more so angry at those who turn their cheek to injustices. I am concerned that non-black communities are turning a blind eye to murder, with the same lack of remorse and convictions as the killers.

We live in a day and age where social justice is popular, acknowledging the strife of vulnerable communities is popular, and passively advocating for black and brown communities is popular as well. One post for non-black communities “should” be enough to show support. However, those who post are returning to their everyday lives and environments where black lives do not matter. They don’t have to matter and if they do, they are inconvenient and burdensome. The question is how are non-black and brown communities changing the discourse about black men and women in their own communities? What are they doing to curb negative views of black and brown people? How do they truly see us on a day to day basis? As we can see, perceptions are stronger than reality and black folk are perceived as dangerous.

The lives of individuals in power take precedent over ours. Even more so, is the view that racism only happens in the South and the South is to blame for these incidents. Don’t get me wrong. The South has had a long and complicated history with racism. However, I do not believe that racist acts and murders only happen in the South. If anything, Ahmaud’s murderers possess a white identity that is reflective of white people across the nation. That blacks do not belong, are dangerous, and they are beneath that of white folks. No matter their athletic ability and likeability, we are still animals, and nothing will change that. 

Similar Read: Justice for Ahmaud?

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

by with No Comment CultureFeaturedGen Z

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.