Darcel Rockett
Has it really been two years since the world turned on its axis? Since being seen and feeling heard was a reality in Hollywood a la “Black Panther?”
Chills, goosebumps. That’s what I got when I saw “Black Panther” for the first time. And no matter how many times I saw the film, and trust me, it was in the double digits, those chills never left.
I remember leaning over to friends and family members who sat next to me watching it, not trying to be that person who talks through the film but finding it hard not to. Because everything in that film was awe-inspiring. The colors, the unity, the community, my people, our people, our majesty, it was like watching countless Black unicorns. You want to engage, but you are afraid any sudden moves will break the magic. “Black Panther” was a glimpse at not what could be, but what is in so many minds when you talk Black power, Black might and the phrase “young, gifted and Black.” It is you. It is me. It is my family. It should be your family. It is everyone’s family, and that’s what makes all the current social injustice so hard to bear. Because if “Black Panther” proved anything, it’s that we are stronger together than we are apart. Family gives us strength, but purpose and responsibility honor that family and give legacy to that name.
For some, Chadwick Boseman’s legacy was made with “Black Panther.” But in the days since his passing, it’s evident that his legacy was already made off-screen with his deeds, his nature, his work ethic and even his struggle with cancer. The dude had swagger, but the quiet kind. You know the type: those who walk with assuredness, not because they are boastful, but because they are themselves at all times. No airs or artifice to maintain, they are who they are, and that is beautiful and enough. I know I’m not the only person to write about Boseman’s greatness. But as a person who got to experience the fan-driven phenomenon that is Wakandacon (the weekend-long Afrofuturistic celebration that brings together comic nerds, gamers, pop culture buffs, techies, sci-fi fans and the ilk) two years in a row (COVID-19 put a stop to the 2020 con), Boseman and the Wakanda universe were a leader and a world that we knew could exist (and maybe in a parallel universe does). With Wakandacon, we got to walk through re-creations of it.
I grieve with the rest of the world for this year that is 2020. Pandemic, Breonna Taylor, Jacob Blake, Ahmaud Arbery, Oluwatoyin “Toyin” Salau, you name it. It feels as if we’ve gone through it, and the year is still not over. Boseman’s passing is another sad bookmark to this trying year. So much grief in so little time. How many times can a heart break before it can’t be put back together again? How many brethren must we lose or see taken down to through no fault of their own before we become the change we need, read and see? Where happy endings are commonplace and those ne’er-do-wells get their proper comeuppance? Where benevolence and gratitude are the norm instead of the exception?
I’ll miss Chadwick Boseman because he embodied that. He was exceptional because he was graciously human — something that is needed these days more than others. I’ll miss Boseman’s swagger. The way he walked into a room on-screen, be he Thurgood Marshall, Jackie Robinson, James Brown or T’Challa. He walked with a sense of knowing. Knowing what he was here to do, what he had to do, what should be done. It was a walk of someone with poise born from purpose. He brought the world together in this.
Walk with purpose, find your swagger, make the world a better place just by letting the world see your grace. It’s a legacy that Boseman’s work reiterates to us. It’s a legacy we should carry on our shoulders especially during this most trying year.
To Boseman, I say: “Woo, brother. You will be missed.”
