In the version of reality where one group of people’s lives are always on display, we, as observers, expect both excellence and scandal (often at the same time). When things occur — life things that inundate the lives of “lesser folk” — those placed on pedestals, who we believe to be “elite,” are scrutinized under the highest microscope.
This is an opportunity — of course — to see two black men in unkindness and anger. That’s the usual route for those who have never started the work to unpack a legacy of superiority found through the lens of race.
But underneath the surface of colored labels, there is still more.
There is the story of hair being used to designate femininity and masculinity and how so many of us are ready to discard this narrative as unimportant — because really, hair? — but that is instead the perfect time to listen to others and unpack how and why men cannot be men if they grow out their hair and how women cannot be women if they shave theirs. Even though humans can grow — or not grow — hair as a part of a biological function that is not designated by gender or sex.
It is the story about how we ridicule those lowest-hanging fruit. Those who seem to have no protection because historically they have not. The m-word: minorities. Those people we hold the least amount of empathy, understanding, consideration, and benefit of the doubt for, who we are less likely to see as our equals in humanity and suffering. In the realm of unequally represented voices and perspectives, this is so often women (so often of color) who we believe we can pay less, hear less, consider less, and that’s for the best because it’s what we’ve always done. Because a deep dark part of us perhaps believes that they are less…
…and what it looks like when someone instead chooses to protect and defend them when they tell us, “No. That joke wasn’t a joke for me”.
It’s the story of a standard of excellence we expect of black folks who have “made it” and how quickly — or not — we are willing to sweep them back under the rug when they prove that they are not a model for others, a mold, but human beings too.
There are many more stories too. Stories that I’ve not yet been able to articulate because they are not in my immediate frame of human understanding; they’re not as easily relatable to me, so they’re in my blind spot too.
There are many misunderstandings here because this isn’t my reality, not my understanding, not my life; I, too, am merely an observer in this display of humanity that is valid and true.
So as we all — outside of those three — make up our own stories and understandings as we throw stones from our own glass houses, perhaps we should instead explore what stories came up for us and what that means for our own personal story of reflection and understanding of the intersectionality of being human.
For further consideration:
Some context to the moment – NDTV
The moment, uncensored – The Guardian
Caia Rose 