No — it shouldn’t. Or maybe it should.
And yes — I’m idiotically petty and wrong for ignoring the “genius” in the music video — This Is America — in favor of a worn-out narrative about how Black men who try to convince us of the “prob-Black” stance — end up exposing something salaciously interesting.
It does matter that Donald Glover’s wife is a White woman because now that he’s being hailed as the “anti-Kanye” and the “rapper we need in a post-Kanye world” — the pressure is on for the Atlanta star and creator to rise to the occasion in an epic way.
This means getting back what you lost with Kanye — the moment he signed on to a long-term agreement with Kris Jenner — which always includes the scenes where he “loses his shit” in a ways — that make his victims tirelessly committed to the task of figuring out how to rescue the once inhumanly flawless Black man.
Glover’s impeccable coup that was staged with artistic fervor — is still giving stunned witnesses the required incentive to curate testimonies matching the vibrancy that heralded Beyonce’s Lemonade — and while I did participate in that parade — I have to wonder if I did it because I wanted to or because I had to.
I can’t lie that the exposure my piece granted me was definitely a career boost — thanks to appearances on radio shows — from Chicago to South Africa.
Actually — now that I think about it — my intentions were pure and not all buried in the secret desires of leaving the competition in the dust of the imminent fame — that grips the ceremony of viral baptism.
Lemonade resonated deeply in the layers of relational complexity when it comes to friendships with Black women from past and present — who I felt the need to celebrate in a massive way.
I wasn’t clinging to the “perfection” of Beyonce or dousing her with residue of my personal challenges — that sometimes takes on the form of adulation being weirdly draped on notables who can’t possibly live up to what we can’t even bear ourselves.
I just loved what she did and how she delivered the goods with the assurance of adherence to excellence — packaged in the love she’s never been too selfish to bestow.
I like This Is America for the same reasons you do — but I wasn’t inspired to “break it down” with captivating precision — and I didn’t need to watch it over and over again — in order to guarantee that I’m just as perceptive as the social media scholars who are still at it.
Maybe — I’m just not always poised to receive the gems of enlightenment — on cue — or perhaps I’m striving to be blind in instances when I feel the urge to be stubbornly resistant to the resistance.
Either way — I can’t deny that Glover definitely hit a home run with his latest surprise and the response is nothing short of revolutionary — as my timeline refuses to cool down from the heat of the moment.
It’s all warranted and rightfully earned — and while the ceremony remains active — there’s also the “diggers” who can’t wait to dive in and bust up the fiesta — with information that’s supposed to instantly sour the mood and make this newly minted hero a proposed enemy of the movement.
Should it matter that the one major thing that Donald Glover shares with Kanye West is that they’ve both created thriving families with White women?
Personally — I don’t find that fact offensive — but I do think it’s interesting enough to point out. My motivation isn’t at al aligned with the editors and readers of Baller Alert or YBF — but rather inspired by the realization that we’ve come full circle.
Back in the sixties — when the racial climate was just as stifling and prophetically dire — the likes of Harry Belafonte— Sidney Poitier — Quincy Jones and other successful Black actors of that era — were visibly fighting the never-ending battle against racial injustice — while balancing the delicate high wire that navigated their precious careers.
Some months ago — Jones opened up about all the shit he went through and divulged a lot more along the way — and it was juicy stuff. But — I wasn’t that blown away about the secretive sexual exploits of dead celebrities — because I was too busy reconciling the fact that the iconic music producer was proudly sharing his record-long lust for White women.
It was the one thing he relied on as validity of his manhood as well as proof that his White counterparts weren’t all that superior after all — not when he’s able to procreate with their prized possession — multiple times over.
The gross blurb about Ivanka aside — you have to admit that it’s kind of fascinating that Jones and the other fine Black gentlemen in his league were emphatically crusading against White supremacy — and yet pledged their allegiance to the women they deemed “worthy” as partners who could measure up to their gold-plated status as Hollywood royalty.
The irony is breathtakingly astounding and one can’t help but wonder if these Black men comprehended how they played into the very narrative they swore to defeat with their half-assed “wokeness.”
Don’t get me wrong — I’m an equal opportunity dater — who gladly ventures out as much as I explore everything within. I guess the difference is that when I date White men — it has nothing to do with my desperate need to prove my prowess as the “Black chick who has what it takes to attract the attention of picky and privileged White men” or anything else associated with that disposition.
I just date the guys who respectfully allow me to be myself — without cautious observation.
Right before Glover’s ascension — there was another breaking news bulletin that was associated with the phenom — Black Panther — involving one of its stars — Winston Duke and his Asian girlfriend. Again — it shouldn’t matter that an honorary citizen of Wakanda would stray outside the built-in storyline — courtesy of roaring fans.
It seems the slight uproar began after Duke publicly praised Black women for helping him overcome his insecurities. This revelation is evidently hard for some to equate with the smiling photo of a mixed couple — clearly in love.
Geez — I’ve forgotten what point I’m trying to make…
Oh! Okay — so basically it both doesn’t matter and kinda does when it comes to the partners of Black men who are immersed in cultural events — that propel an ongoing movement they utilize as opportunities — to artistically highlight the continued enslavement of Black people — by a biased system that regulates our mandated extinction.
On one hand — the immense commitment of Black men who are in relationships with non-Black women to the assignment of remaining faithful to the rulebook of “pro-Black” activism is commendable — but do they need to maintain that momentum and authenticity by going out of their way to extend that passion to women who look like their mothers?
Honestly — I don’t think that’s a necessary requirement — but that doesn’t remove the “elephant in the room” each time the pictures reveal tendencies — that force us to re-examine that level of commitment — to be sure it’s for real and not for show.
Either way — it’s worth the exploration and examination since we seem to be talking about everything else. The standout in all of this is how once again Black women seem to be the disposable martyrs — who don’t want to be strong all the time or hopeful when there’s no hope — and yet there’s seems to be the indication that we’re not enough for the men we rightfully admire.
Or maybe I’m doing too much here.
I’m certain my contribution isn’t nearly as profound as the scholarly “breakdowns” — but luckily for me — I never vowed that I was better than I really am.