Black Panther, or When I Almost Cried in a Movie Theater Parking Lot

Unless you are living under a large vibranium rock, you probably heard something about Black Panther this past weekend. In our current environment there are only two types of movies for which Americans will purchase a ticket: Star Wars affiliates and the next installment from the bevy of superheros in the Marvel Universe. After years of hype that reached a fever pitch, out came Black Panther and it lived up to the hype and then some. Earning rave reviews and setting box office records around the world.

But, this film is more than that and I did not sit down here to write a movie review.

Black Panther is a reorienting experience. It flips the world in a way that has the power to positively impact an entire generation for years to come.

As my wife and I waited for the movie to start on President's Day (shout out to that 11:30 am showing!), two boys about 8 and 9 shuffled into our row. They were accompanied by their mother and they had skin about one shade darker than that of the five year old boy entrusted to our care. Looking at them I could already piece together a conversation that had taken place immediately beforehand. The first boy wore a Black Panther mask tilted up on the crown of his head. The younger brother had a pair of plastic claws affixed to his wrists and I knew the exchange had gone something like this:

"No, I get to wear the costume!"
"No, I do!"
"You wear the claws, I get the mask!"
"No way!"

At this point I assume their mother interceded and after rock-paper-scissors, the chief tool of pre-adolescent diplomacy, the outfits were decided.

Then, the feature began. And it was marvelous. I loved every moment of it.

But, I can guarantee you, my joy was not the greatest in that room. I know it wasn't even the greatest in our row. Because I can only imagine what those two young men next to me experienced over those two hours. For them whether they know it or not, this would be a day brimming with potential to rearrange their lives.

They walked into a theater and they saw a screen full of people who looked like them. And the people on that screen weren't being arrested, oppressed, victimized, or stereotyped. The people on that screen were in control of their own destiny and that of the world around them. They were powerful and were choosing to leverage that sovereign power for good. They were choosing compassion and righteousness.

Here it was, America's crowning media genre and at the center of it, people like them were being cast in an unquestionably good light. They were scientists with technology developed far beyond the world around them. They were empowered without any need for outsiders, but choosing to use their advanced medicine to heal an outsider because it was right. They were leaders who were unsullied and unburdened by any stain of history or prejudice.

I thought about those boys and all of this as we made our way back out to the car and then I thought of the five year old boy with black skin in our home and the promise and hope that this story would hold for him and his future.

Because representation matters. The way we see ourselves portrayed in media and by society at-large does not have a causal effect on our future, but it does have an imaginative impact. When I grow up in a society that portrays me as college-bound, powerful, wealthy, and important, it does not guarantee I will be any of those things, but it makes it a whole lot easier. If I grow up in a society that portrays me as defective, marginalized, and lesser, it doesn't make one any of those things, but it does re-write the narrative of the human heart. And the internalized voice within us is tough to shake (especially when the full weight of that society is pressing in on you day after day seeking to impress that wicked lie on you deeper).

So, when the Black Panther does a simple act like sit on his throne, when Shuri walks in bearing a new device that she has ingeniously engineered, or when Nakia stands up for justice in the face of opposition, what we see isn't merely another plot point, it's a world flipping on its axis. In those moments, I can see the hearts of children forming a new view of the world and a new view of themselves. I can see a picture of the future that shouts dignity, beauty, and even love.

And that's more than just another big budget diversion.