Rest in power Mr. Boseman

Chadwick Boseman passed recently. This was a…surprise, to say the least. I’m not really sure what to do with this energy. I’ve never been good with tragedy, near or far from me, to be honest. But I’m writing to get whatever I have in me out of me, because it’s probably healthier than ending tonight cuddling a $13 bottle of wine. I’m just going to chalk it up to this endless nightmare of a year.

And the cancer. Fucking cancer, really? God. And we, the public I mean, didn’t have even the slightest idea. That was a talented man. You just never truly know just how difficult a person’s life is behind closed doors.

I won’t use this to just linger on the sadness. That’s my go to, because admittedly it’s comfortable there, but also completely destructive. Instead, eulogizing is really this beautiful practice of remembering how a person enriched your life. So let’s give that a shot…

I didn’t know Boseman. I just knew a small part of his work that affected me. I’m not a superhero guy either to be honest. But Black Panther was a work of art that I can’t help but give the highest praise to.

I remember going to the Court Street movie theater in Brooklyn with one of my best friends and let me tell you; everything about the experience was beautiful. Even just waiting in the line that could rival the wait for a Six Flags ride just to see the movie was a moment to behold. People got dressed up. I mean REALLY dressed up. Their outfits screamed, “I’m going to celebrate my Blackness to the fullest extent of what is or isn’t cultural the norm.”

We got our tickets late (and when I say late, I mean a week in advance) so we ended up sitting in the actual front row, necks craned up and all. It was uncomfortable as all hell, but once that movie started, we saw the majesty of a universe with Wakanda in it. We were transported.

And so was the audience! That was the other beauty we witnessed, we had the blackity Blackest audience ooh-ing, aah-ing, laughing, gasping, yelling, and exclaiming with us. It felt like one big ass family reunion. I remember walking out of that movie theater and feeling so powerful and so connected.

At the center of it all was Mr. Boseman’s character King T’Challa. I mean if excellence had a face and spirit, it was his. I feel like that character along with the ensemble cast just helped us remember, ‘Oh yeah…we are pretty amazing. We are incredible. Greatness isn’t a pipe dream.’ I guess that’s why super heroes exist in our cultural language.

And you can’t forget about the joy. The absolute joy that the production and that man produced. Everyone and their mom (literally, my mom included) were doing the Wakandan salute for a solid year as if to say, “I see you and we are connected.” I bought and wore a Black Panther t-shirt around the city and the amount of random salutes I got was amazing. I’m sure just about every little black kid wanted to be a character from that movie.

I want to thank Mr. Boseman for helping to shepherd that joy into the world when we really, really needed it. Trying times doesn’t even begin to describe the setting of the stage we live on right now, but it’s lovely to be reminded just how powerful and inspiring art can be.

Thank you for your life Mr. Boseman.

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