Whoever
produced the 2016 BET Awards program needs a big, fat bonus. Somehow, the network, which has been marred with frivolity for years, stepped up its game
and delivered a show that defined and reinforced today's movement for human and
civil rights.
The program began with Beyonce (joined by Kendrick LeMar) for a live performance of "Freedom." Ebony-hued women, adorned in
African-inspired body suits, marched in formation toward a water-soaked
platform with dramatic bursts of fire. Heads up, shoulders steadied, eyes focused on
the stage, the dancers strutted to the beat of palpitating drums synced to the words of the late Dr. Martin Luther King:
“We refuse to
believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt…so we’ve come to cash this check, a
check that will give us, among demand, the riches of freedom and the security
of justice.”
BET
used its unique platform to take us back, and perhaps, move us forward.
Producers seemed to have taken survey of our great musical losses, tragic tribulations
and articulated a time-proven, collective pathway forward.
For
me, the opening act was a reminder that African drums were once the slave’s unspoken
language of sorrow, hope, escape and revolution. MLK’s voice incorporated with the drumbeat accentuated how far we have regressed in our quest to reach the mountaintop
of equality.
Of course, the powerful tributes to Prince and
Muhammad Ali set the tone for serious reflection. Those youngsters who believe
they have achieved on their own had to reckon with the spirits of legends in the room who sacrificed
for their musical, social and political freedoms.
In the terrifying times of Trump, the network
detoured from its far too frolicsome homage to sex, misogyny, drugs and the pubescent
glorification of money. With repeated calls to “get out and vote,” the
program acknowledged hip-hop while reinforcing the legacy
of musical, social and
political activism.
Jennifer
Hudson’s gospel-tinged rendition of Prince’s Purple Rain: “Honey, I know, I know
times are changing…” brought new relevance in an
America gone askew.
The exoneration of real and widely suspected police in the killings of Tamir Rice, Michael Brown, Eric Garner, Sandra Bland and so, so many more has re-lit the fire of righteous
indignation in the hearts of many, especially young people. The legacy of musical
protest in the songs of Billie Holiday, Nina Simone, Sam Cooke, Bob Dylan, Bob
Marley and Curtis Mayfield have been rekindled by artists like Beyonce, Kendrick
LaMar, D’Angelo, Killer Mike and Janelle Monae.
But
sorrow without solutions; frustration without articulation can be dances in futility.
Mainstream media, Donald Trump and far right loons have used the music of singers
and rappers and images of protest groups like Black Lives Matter to convince whites
that police are the true “victims” and a violent revolution is afoot that will
somehow rob them of their “freedoms.”
At
a time when civil rights actions and young angst are summarily manipulated, stereotyped
and undermined, context is desperately needed. When speaking to the urban
uprisings of the 1960s, Dr. King provided valuable perspective when he defined riots
as
BET
gave us a 21st
Century advocate of context in "Grey's Anatomy" star, Jesse Williams, who was
awarded its Humanitarian Award:
“This is for the real organizers all over the
country, the activists, the civil rights attorneys, the struggling parents, the
families, the teachers, the students that are realizing that a system
built to divide and impoverish and destroy us cannot stand if we do,” Williams said in his exceptional acceptance
speech.
The
actor spoke a rarely heard truth that gave balance to a show primarily dedicated
to music. In less than 700 words he honored black women for nurturing “everyone before themselves”; spoke to
the foolish pursuit of “getting money just to
give it right back, for someone’s brand…”; chastised police
who manage to “deescalate, disarm and not
kill white people…” while checking critics of “our resistance”
with no record of "critiquing our oppression.”
The audience had been primed, the historical backdrop had been provided;
the environment for modern-day activism had already been set up before Williams
laid down the preeminent ultimatum:
“We’re done
watching and waiting while this invention called 'whiteness' uses and abuses us,
burying black people out of sight and out of mind while extracting our culture,
our dollars, our entertainment, like oil, black gold. Ghettoizing and demeaning
our creations, then stealing them, gentrifying our genius, and then trying us
on like costumes, before discarding our bodies like rinds of strange fruit.”
The struggle for human and civil rights in America is full with drastically divergent strategies. It was a culmination of different approaches from
Nat Turner to Frederick Douglas, DuBois to Garvey, Malcolm to Martin, the Black
Panthers to the NAACP and presidential candidates, Jesse Jackson to Barack Obama.
It's possible I saw something others didn't. But as far as I'm concerned, BET communicated a modern-day template based on our
unique past and present potential. Producers reminded us that the struggle is a continuum and the forces
of real change must be as committed, diverse, multi-generational and absolutely creative
as it has been since the dawn of slavery.
And for this, I say “Thank You.”
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