I love “both/and” analyses because they help us get to the heart of complex contemporary ideologies. Lately, I’ve been thinking about the images of Black royalty, Black capitalism as it relates to media. In the past few years, different corporations have realized the power of the Black dollar, and have begun developing stories to tell and products to sell that help address gaps in positive representation created by structural racism and colorism in media.
Recently, the world suffered the tremendous loss of Chadwick Boseman (Rest in Power). It came to the world as a surprise that he’d been fighting for his life before our eyes while we admired him on our television screen. It raised a lot of questions, feelings and dialogue in the community about empathy, capitalism and legacy.
In thinking about his roles and his legacy, there have been an outpouring of support and well-deserved memorialization. His roles were iconic because he brought us a perspective we needed. In The Black Panther, he was a King and a hero. His royal designation was important because previous depictions of Black (or darker) bodies in cartoons were villainous, situated in extreme poverty/neglect or rendered non-human. This was different.
In an era where the public was crying for respectful representation, we got The Black Panther and it changed us forever. We had dark skin actresses who had natural hair, who had no hair, women scientists and healthy Black families with wealth, power and love.
For centuries, Black Americans, members of African diaspora suffered the epistemic and hermeneutical injustice of having Africa taught to them through the lens of whiteness and colonialism, as savagery. The Black Panther and his family lived luxuriously disrupting poverty-porn monoliths that Africa was barren, poor and lacking vibrant modern cultures. We don’t all live luxuriously like The Black Panther. As Black people, collectively we are punished by a system of racialized capitalism that disproportionality impoverishes Black bodies globally. However, The Black Panther pushed back against a narrative of poverty, forced displacement, enslavement and shame with a counter-narrative of ancestral legacy, cultural wealth and valuable resources. The metaphors were deeper than just entertainment, they were opportunities to dig into the truth behind the tale. For example, In Black Panther, audiences joined the cinematic journey for Vibranium. In real life, the western world loots the Democratic Republic of Congo for coltan – a resource found in most mobile phones.
The Black Panther movie gave displaced members of the African Diaspora the gift of exposure through the disruption of dominant narratives via art and imagination. It also created metaphors that helped people engage the continent of Africa to learn from different countries and ethnic groups.
We were tired of only seeing poverty porn & devastation in Africa. We were tired of Black stories that ended in death, suffering and humiliation. We were tired of the struggle for our humanity being showcased as entertainment for mostly white audiences; The Black Panther gave us much needed rest.
We didn’t all have to be Kings and Queens to identify with the counter-narratives to the dominant narratives that Black people don’t have legacy, wealth management skills or positive family values. Our Blackness is a source of pride. Our cultures are diverse and rich. Our natural hair grows towards the Sun as our crown.
The Black Panther sits in our hearts because of (and despite) the nods to Black royalty and Black capitalism
I ‘d like to juxtapose The Black Panther dialogues alongside the Black is King critiques because it allows an important dynamic to come to light.
Black is King by Beyonce (also produced by Disney who owns Marvel) was problematized for the same things that Black Panther was praised for. Beyoncé delivered a thought provoking performance that carried similar messages as Black Panther around Black royalty, wealth and ancestry. However, Beyoncé was heavily criticized by modern day philosophers who said “we don’t have to be kings and queens to be important” or that her lavish designs were a showcase of her wealth as a Black capitalist. I don’t think Beyonce was saying we need to be kings and queens to be important. Her title creates an important dichotomy and signaling. Kings and Queens represent great riches and power, but they also represent the few groups of people in our society who can trace their lineage for centuries. In looking through the lens of ancestry and placing her video on ancestral lands where Blacks have been subjugated and enslaved by western culture, I look at her titling choices as a chance to “flip the script,” and show the world the connections Black people have to Africa and the diaspora.
It’s also find it hard to criticize a Hip Hop/ R&B/ Pop artist for materialism when some of the most popular and pervasive motifs in the genre glorify wealth with mansions, luxury brands, luxury cars, jewelry and more.
Beyonce’s dedication to contract Black creators and showcase various African cultures and their aesthetics was an intentional choice to engage and illuminate the talents and artistry of Black people globally.
I think Beyonce choice to feature luxury products from Black creators, in a space where most artists still feature brands like Prada, Gucci and Prada who’ve recently come under fire for creating merchandise inspired by the minstrelsy era, represents a step in the right direction as the intersection of hip hop and capitalism comes under fire.
I don’t think Beyonce or Chadwick’s message was that we had to be queens and kings with wealth to be celebrated, but rather that African cultures are vibrant and diverse. Due to enslavement, we don’t always know where our people came from, but the erasure of our legacy doesn’t mean we’re unloved, unclaimed or not thought of – our Blackness is a source of power despite hegemonic messaging that it’s not. In my reflection, I’ve also been reminded that our resistance will not going to come from romanticizing power structures like nepotism but that doesn’t mean we need to exclude them from the canon of our entertainment. It means we think critically about the impact of this messaging on our own humanization.
I’m left wondering how thinkers can continue push conversations about representation to include more diverse representations, while also trying to shatter monoliths that poverty is not the defining characteristic of Black life or the continent of Africa. Before seeing these media, many people had been overwhelmed with a racist monolith that Africans on the continent needed western missionaries and organizations to come save the day. However, these images push back against that. They show us the resilience of the continent despite persistent western looting. They push us to expand our thinking about ways to represent Black stories of triumph, joy and love as it is experienced by Black individuals (who are not kings and queens but still worthy of being celebrated).
Artists make us think and that’s what both artists did for me, and many of the people in our community. So the question I have for readers is:
How will these conversations push us in a direction to begin to author or illuminate new heroes that can interrogate capitalism and class based complexity as it relates to American ideas of heroism, success and royalty?
Exploring where we’re at now will help us to think through how we can create a character or a series of representations that better showcase the values of our modern times such as: equity, justice, inclusion, anti-imperialism and above all, learning from our failures.