A Few Thoughts on the Oscars and Black Representation

I had written a short piece when news of the Oscar nominees first broke detailing my feelings, but had chosen not to post it. There were so many think pieces circulating that I kinda felt like, “Eh, what’s the point?” However, today I decided to post it anyway. I spent the time writing it, may as well share. Let me know your thoughts! 

I was just having a conversation over dinner about how little we’ve progressed in the name of black representation. What jarred it back to consciousness was the video everyone made viral as the news of David Bowie’s death spread. In it, the musician questions Mark Goodman about the lack of black artist representation on MTV.

What struck me is that this conversation took place in 1980, not too long before I was born. And it was easy for me not to feel effects of a lack of representation given the flush of black sitcoms as a kid and the prevalence of hip-hop influence.

Yet, we are still entangled in a struggle for representation that is progressing according to the palate of an old guard establishment that doesn’t see a need to represent something they do not know. Something they don’t think is worthy of displaying. Or profitable. Black lives, in their rich, fruitful variance, are not deemed as marketable. Ironic, isn’t it?

There is one exception to this rule. The “black struggle” film. Any film that views black life through the lens of oppression can earn award recognition. This point was hilariously illustrated by the Daily Show when news of the Oscars nominees broke.

Although I chuckled along and knew this to be true given the history of the Oscars, I didn’t understand why. Why would they want to be confronted with struggle, especially slavery? Why would they want to see the evidence of our history’s ugliness–one they seem intent to avoid in any other circumstance? Then it dawned on me: white people like black struggle films because it affirms their identity as non racists. If they can be moved or at least impressed, it affirms that they have empathy for black people and understand  their plight. Watching a slavery film especially confirms for them that they wouldn’t be one of “those” white people. They can imagine that they would have acted differently because they feel badly now.

On the flip side, watching a film like Creed, for example, shows black people’s humanity. Movies like this show them just how alike we actually are in our everyday lives–how human. And it’s unsettling. It’s unsettling because that means that all the time that they ignore our plights and ignore the injustices that they can no longer get away from, they truly are turning on a friend. Or a brother. Or a mother. The empathy is too familiar. It is not tinged with pity. There is no barrier of estrangement.

This begs the question raised some time ago by Mo’Nique and most recently by Jada Pinkett Smith: should we abandon the Oscars altogether and focus on celebrating our own selves? Would it behoove us to look at our films through our own eyes, knowing that we will fully understand and appreciate them? What will that require of us as a community?

I am completely supportive of making black owned and operated ceremonies more prevalent. I think that is incredibly powerful and important. We have long needed to invest in our own. However, I know what it’s like to grow up with the dream of an artist that one day you will have an Oscar. It is difficult to throw that dream away, even for a good cause. And I also believe that there would be merit in requiring the academy to be more conscientious versus allowing them to continue unchecked.

To my mind, instead of boycotting, it would make more sense to be present at the Oscars in a form of protest. Wear all black. Don’t get glammed up. Sit and make your presence seen and felt. Not attending may be a snub from Will, who has had a lot of mainstream success, but it won’t be as impactful. It will be acknowledged that they’re missing, which will be the regrettable passing feeling before all is forgotten. I say demand to be seen. Show up and make your presence and the reason for said presence known. Make it so people cannot forget that this awards ceremony is problematic.

Force your white peers to confront their participation in an unequal Hollywood instead of letting them off the hook. Challenge their notions of what it means to be a true ally. Send the message that this problem cannot and will not be ignored. Change is not borne out of comfort and complacency–so make it uncomfortable.