*Spoiler alert for Black Panther*
I was running late for the screening of Black Panther. In a fit of excited confusion, I got off at the wrong subway stop and had to run down to Yonge and Dundas. En route, I passed two gentlemen handing out those eponymous Black History Month pamphlets. They tried to flag me down, I nodded at them, smiled, but didn’t say anything as I rushed by. I thought to myself: “Don’t worry guys, I know the Truth. And I’m going to see Black Panther, I’m doing my bit.”
Kendrick Lamar (pictured) performing at the Pitch Fork Music Festival in 2012. (Photo by gozamos)
After a bit of reflection, I realised how distinctly troubling and problematic that sentiment was. It reminded me of a couple lines from Kendrick Lamar’s The Blacker the Berry:
“So don’t matter how much I say I like to preach with the Panthers
Or tell Georgia State ‘Marcus Garvey got all the answers’
Or try to celebrate February like it’s my B-Day
Or eat watermelon, chicken, and Kool-Aid on weekdays
Or jump high enough to get Michael Jordan endorsements
Or watch BET cause urban support is important
So why did I weep when Trayvon Martin was in the street when gang banging make me kill a (expletive) blacker than me?
Hypocrite!”
Distinctions in history
The idea of honouring Black history and culture, as distinct from White American history and culture, has its routes in the Harlem Renaissance in the 1920s. February was chosen as Abraham Lincoln and Frederick Douglass – two pillars of African American liberation – were born two days apart in that month. While initially just a week, by the late 1960s it was expanded to the entire month across college campuses, with the stated goal of honouring the African American tradition and raising awareness about both the history of oppression and systemic injustices. In an address celebrating the bicentennial in 1976, President Gerald Ford recognized Black History Month, officially codifying it into our North American cultural narrative.
I thought to myself: “Don’t worry guys, I know the Truth. And I’m going to see ‘Black Panther,’ I’m doing my bit.”
As Kendrick Lamar elucidated above with his tongue-in-cheek line about celebrating February like it’s his birthday, Black History Month – while a necessary and honorable tradition – is, in and of itself problematic. It reinforces the idea of otherness – that Black history is separate to White history. Chris Webber, a retired National Basketball Association (NBA) basketball player, stressed this in a recent Players Only television segment.
He was clear.
“It’s not Black history, it’s not White history – it’s American history,” Webber said, quoting Gregg Popovich, head coach of the San Antonio Spurs.
“To honour our struggle we have to honour all of those that helped in the struggle (and) contributed to the struggle,” Webber continued to say.
“Race is a social construct,” Isiah Thomas, another retired basketball player, chimed in. “There is only one race – the human one.”
A movie poster for Black Panther, now in theatres. (Photo by junaidrao)
In a year characterised by rising racial tensions, it did not feel like a coincidence that the release of Black Panther coincided with both the NBA All-Star Weekend and Black History Month. The Blank Page will have an in-depth review of Black Panther in the next few weeks, but for the purpose of this story, let’s just say Black Panther is a stunning and timely reminder of the power and importance of African cultural narrative. The film grapples with the tension between Black nationalism and Black radicalism. Without spoiling too much, there is an incredibly evocative scene towards the end involving two antagonists that underscore this tension:
Given 500 years of murder, theft and oppression from the White colonial powers, do we respond with love and magnanimity or with righteous anger?
More than a game
As I’ve discussed in previous articles, the links between sports, entertainment and culture are deep and entrenched. The NBA purposefully celebrates Blackness and African American culture, and All-Star Weekend is the culmination of this celebration. By proportion, the NBA is the Blackest sports league in North America. In 2015, a full 75 per cent of the athletes were Black, compared to 70 per cent in the National Football League, six per cent in Major League Baseball and seven per cent in the National Hockey League. This is all in a country where 12 per cent of the population are Black.
NBA players are more visible than football players. Viewers can see their faces and reactions and are able to humanize them. As a result, NBA players have been at the forefront of the African American struggle for legitimacy in the American cultural landscape for generations, starting with the great Bill Russell.
NBA player Bill Russell (pictured in 2011) waits to receive his 2010 Presidential Medal of Freedom. (Photo by White House)
Bill Russell is perhaps the most successful NBA player of all time. He won more championships in his career than any other professional athlete in the big four North American sports (basketball, baseball, football and hockey). He was drafted by the Boston Celtics in the late 1950s – a time when racial tensions in America were profound. He was racially abused by fans wherever he went – including his own fans in Boston. Whenever he travelled he was not allowed to stay at the same hotel as the rest of his (White) team. He was the first African American superstar in the NBA. He was also the first African American coach in North American professional sports. And the first African American coach to win a championship. He marched with Martin Luther King and supported Muhammad Ali and Jackie Robinson.
LeBron James has followed Russell’s legacy. He has been one of the most visible and ardent critics of President Trump, the continuing legacy of slavery and the entrenched racism that permeates every institution of American society. On the eve of the NBA All Star Weekend – which is, without doubt, one of the highlights of the African American cultural calendar – LeBron criticised President Trump, saying that “(Trump) doesn’t give a (expletive) about the people.” In response, a so-called journalist from Fox News, Laura Ingraham, launched herself into a stunning rebuke, flaying LeBron for having the audacity to have a political opinion, as well as criticising his use of grammar and diction.
Laura Ingraham speaking at the Values Voter Summit in Washington, DC.(Photo by Gage Skidmore)
It reminded me of a couple lines from a song by Edo G:
“I wish the world didn’t give us funny looks
Think we all just dummies and crooks
Athletes and entertainers singin’ hooks”
– Edo G, Wishing
White culture has certain expectations of Black people. When someone like Ingraham spouts off racist beliefs to her (largely) White audience, the temptation is to revert to anger. However, LeBron set an example for us all with his response:
“It lets me know that everything I’ve been saying is correct for her to have that type of reaction, but we will definitely not shut up and dribble. I will definitely not do that. I mean too much to society, I mean too much to the youth, I mean too much to so many kids that feel like they don’t have a way out and they need someone to help lead them out of the situation they’re in.”
The invective language used by Ingraham reverted to age-old stereotypes of African Americans “sticking to sports,” and struck a real chord given the timing of her attack. It served as a reminder of the entrenched beliefs that undergird many parts of North American society. LeBron James responded to her with magnanimity and love. He shunned anger when he had every right to be enraged. To use an old cliche, he took the high road.
By the end of the movie, Black Panther reaches this conclusion. Yes, there are plenty of reasons to be angry – and justifiably so. Let’s just say that Black Panther is certainly aligned with mainstream African American thought right now, which does feel both unique and expected. Unique in that African American voices have been silenced for much of film history, but expected in that over the last decade – from Shonda Rhimes to Get Out – this narrative is in flux. Times are changing, and Black Panther is certainly on the right side of history.
By Rashid Mohiddin
Please note that opinions expressed are the author’s own. They do not necessarily reflect the views and values of The Blank Page.
