PRINCE AZIZ HUNT
Special to The Leader
If you make a spectacle out of my rage, or any other Black person’s, I will personally lose all respect for you.
I am writing this statement in response to the media’s blatant disregard for Will Smith’s very well justified rage at whatever Chris Rock said about his wife, Jada Pinkett Smith. The media has made a spectacle out of his actions instead of actually understanding what might have led him to do what he did. It’s still got me very angry, so I’m going to continue to express that rage in writing this to whoever is willing to read it.
Of course this is not the first time this has happened in history, but it’s the most recent relevant example. I could easily refer to the enslavement of Africans through colonization and the slave trade, lynchings, segregation, racial discrimination, the civil rights movement, police brutality, medicinal malpractice, racial slurs and depictions, the theft of Black culture and its repurposing across society, disproportionate incarceration of Blacks — a.k.a. modern enslavement enabled by the 13th Amendment — as well as racism itself. But I’ll just settle upon something fresh in everyone’s minds. Each of the alternative references indicated are all things that trigger rage in a Black individual. Rage is different from anger, because it’s so powerful of an emotional experience that the feelings felt can’t be contained — which is why it commonly leads to violence. Some might not see it as such, but violence is a form of communication, albeit one that causes physical harm upon another.
Whenever a Black person is full of rage, a lot of the time it’s well warranted, but it’s almost always interpreted as poorly expressed. It’s seen as “that wasn’t called for,” “they overreacted,” “it wasn’t that serious,” “you could have done (fill in the blank),” “let it go” along with a plethora of other ways to invalidate someone’s emotions through gaslighting. There’s never an actual consideration, understanding and empathization of their experience, emotions and feelings — something I know all too well. That was immediately made clear by the media’s response to Smith’s actions in how he was treated as the aggressor instead of the victim — as if Rock hadn’t instigated the reaction out of him to begin with. Smith acted upon his rage in response to something that triggered it and white people started judging something they could never understand due to the privilege they experience in being white. A privilege that simply means white folks will never have negative experiences rooted in the color of their skin.
We (Black folks) express ourselves differently than others because we have to. Black people could never shoot up a whole school and then get coddled for that action afterwards. We’d be dead on the spot. In contrast, if we even did a fraction of that by means of yelling, cursing, punching or slapping, we’d receive more negative attention. Our expressions are something along the lines of an act that’s supposed to be more “socially acceptable” like exercising, breaking things, speeches, writing poetry (traditionally or through rap), painting and sculpting, cooking and baking, cleaning, reading books, playing video games. Doing things that are just like … relaxing and expressive. Regardless of the action, it’s a problem.
My point is anything we do is made into a spectacle. You’d think that would get people to understand what’s going on and like … not shoot us in the back 17 times; See “To Kill a Mockingbird” and like … all of the media from 2020 in which the public murder of Black people was rampant to the public eye. But no. We continue to be misrepresented by the media, because they’d rather blatantly disrespect us by making fun of us instead of taking the time to understand us.
When the world refuses to “see” you, “understand” you, actually “listen” to you and pay attention to how others actions have affected you and your experience, you’re bound to be angry.
Prince Aziz Hunt
That anger will fester until it literally explodes into the form of some grand expression of self — which unfortunately results in a lot of violence within Black homes.
That “grand” expression of violence within the home is a direct result of a lack of communication skills and coping mechanisms for anger. Their emotions and feelings are projected upon those around them in some form of abuse. That’s why so many Black people end up traumatized from living with their families, then carry it into their future with their own children.
Instead of getting help and healing — which is a privilege — they use what they know from their own experiences to govern their actions, a lot of the time subconsciously. This unfortunately makes the cycle continue.
I know from experience that if you don’t address your trauma and how it influences your actions and who you are, you’ll never truly grow into the best person that you can be. You have to take the time to learn who you are and why in order to culture your growth instead of inhibit it.
I’m so emotionally exhausted from witnessing so much pain being unhealed and unaddressed in the people I know. I’m a very powerful empath, so every time I see someone in pain it leaves its mark on my soul. Sometimes even to the point of a scar.
Therefore, whether it be through therapy, learning to communicate with someone close to you, channeling your emotions and passions into something you love (even if it’s not your profession), art (in whatever form), meditating (which can be done in many ways that aren’t “traditional”), expressing yourself through your love language (something good to learn), and whatever else helps you culture and maintain your happiness, please do it. Take some time each day whether it’s five minutes or an hour, because you don’t want to keep all of that expression contained. Let that shit go.
A perfect example of a Black man choosing peace over violence, although it was fantastical, is T’Challa, voiced by the late Chadwick Boseman in Marvel’s “What If?” In a stark contrast to Marvel’s original plot, T’Challa was abducted by the Ravagers instead of Peter Quill and literally stopped the worst things that ended up plaguing the Avengers later on. He befriended Thanos instead of waging war against him by coming to a mutual understanding. He stopped a Titan from commiting mass genocide across the universe by talking to him. Think about the power behind such an action — then think about the fact that it came from the heart of a Black man. That’s the kind of thing I’m talking about. Building connections with others and spreading love by being true to who you are to help the world become a better place. That’s what life is all about (other than making sure that you’re happy).
For extended context as to who T’Challa is and why his actions are relevant I’ll have to elaborate on his fantastical origin and how much his depiction within the modern world meant to the Black community. T’Challa (a.k.a. The Black Panther) was one of the first strongly prominent mainstream representations of the inherent nature of Blackness — something that the world does not get to see often. His character and story were created in the ‘60s to combat the lack of representation of Black superheroes in the United States, which was especially apparent with the racial tensions of the time period. Many people across the world didn’t actually know what Black people were like because their perceptions were shaped by the racist stereotypes and depictions that have still never truly left this country. That needed to change, so Stan Lee and Jack Kirby had the Black Panther debut in the Fantastic Four comic in 1966.
T’Challa comes from a country in Africa called “Wakanda” that isolated itself from the rest of the world into the 21st century without white or colonial influence. The country is incredibly beautiful, prosperous, technologically advanced, sophisticated, culturally diverse, rich and wealthy in resources, powerful and too much more to list that represents what Africa — the continent itself — could have been without colonization. Within this pocket of the Earth and its land, Black people had survived and thrived without the “help” of the white man. I shouldn’t have to say how powerful of an image that is, because it doesn’t exist in reality. It had to be illustrated in a fantastical sense to give a simple glimpse to what we could have been. Hence, having the “Black Panther” movie in 2018 showing Wakanda in its full glory was everything that Black people yearned for. And using the man who was the Black Panther, T’Challa, as a catalyst for peace across the universe in the animated series “What If?” was literally magical.
Now, back to the original objective of this piece. Yes, we (Black people) experience rage. Everyone does, but our actions typically exhibit “self-control” and the containment of our emotions because it’s not safe to openly express them in public without being stereotyped and judged. That’s part of what it means to be Black in the United States, because someone is always watching you and it feels like you have to constantly give a performance of your best self so people cannot witness your vulnerability. If they do, they’ll know how to have power over you and take advantage of your “weakness.”
Personally, I think instead of your vulnerability being a spectacle of shame it should be honored. It’s part of what makes you human and who you are as a person. It’s what helps you become closer and more connected to others. Plus when you claim and actively acknowledge the things that make you vulnerable, other people will have a very hard time using it against you because you’ll be claiming it as your truth and reality. Be true to who you are and learn to love yourself, because you deserve it and no one else is going to care for you but you. Remember that well.