Let’s be really clear folk, I was shaving my head before the Dora Milaje made it cool.  I may never grow it back now though. Seriously.

I was wondering what would prompt me to break my self imposed exile. It all came down to the fictional nation of Wakanda.

I saw Black Panther this week.

I was already hyped for the movie.  I am a nerd and a comic movie about a fictional nation in Africa where more money and power and technology exists than anyplace else on the 3rd Rock from the sun was a no brainier.  When it was clear that Wakanda was gonna be ground zero in Avengers Infnity War that only upped the ante.

I don’t often go to the theatre but seeing Black Panther on the screen was something that was gonna happen.  What surprised me though was my adjustment from waiting until a month out and picking a cheap matinee where I would be the only person in the theatre.  I bought my ticket a month in advance and chose to be front row center in the theater on opening night. I chose to be one of the people who contributed to a record settin $218 million dollar opening weekend for the biggest and Blackest movie in my lifetime.  Sure there are other ‘Black’ movies but nothing like Black Panther.

As the time wore on and the full court press began in the month long countdown to showtime I quietly got more excited. This was my movie, with people who looked like me.  It was getting more shine than a bald black scalp in the Wakanda sun.  I was impressed and I do not impress easily.  I knew that the movie would be good.  I trust in Marvel to deliver me excellence.  They have net disappointed me yet.

With Black Panther though…they delivered me something I did not know I needed.  This unapologetic celebration of Blackness and more specifically Black women fed my mind body  and soul and had me bumping Paramedic from the soundtrack on a level that could possibly damage the speakers on my borrowed Nissan Rogue.  I care not.

I expected a movie about how a man became a king.  I got a movie which fed messages about accepting my role as companion and warrior side by side with my Black man.  I got a movie which reminded me that 2 billion others on this planet look like me and even though shit is pretty fucked up here under the Stars and Stripes with 45 at the reigns, I am still fairly fortunate.  I got a celebration of melanin.  I got action and fight scenes which are usually reserved for the palest of faces.  I got a little Black girl who is a literal genius who is going to have Tony Stark questioning his manhood.  I got a general of an army which would make Thanos second guess his desire to fill the Infinity gaunlet and the balance of that army looked like me, beautiful bald BLACK women.  [editors note – they never miss cardio day or leg day or arm day and I miss all that shit]

I got reminded to not continue the sins of my father, and I have a father who sinned….a lot.

I got a glimpse of who my people can be outside the ever present boots of the oppressors.  I got my entire fucking life and yours too in 2.5 hours of Marvel excellence which is the movie Black Panther.

There are 2 things which I could complain about and I am not gonna do that because. Just because no other reason.  I am not gonna shit on this movie in any way shape or form  and if you wish to exit stage left or right.  Move or you will be moved.

I now have a new way to ignore yt people.

I now have a new secret handshake to greet those I fuck with.

I got permission to just be me, be Black and exist.

I love that across the globe, youthful Black girls and boys have a point of reference that we are not all historical figures whose best work is behind us, or slaves, or ballers.

They see that they can be kings or warriors or just your average free basic Black person and it’s….ok.

I got an idea that the Shea butter and coconut oil reserves came close to being depleted and raised the budget of this film a good 5 million.  All that flawless Black skin though, lighted properly and displayed without shame and Lupita’s thigh meat…..Jesus.

I got to watch a 31 year old Black man from the Bay Area make history.   I got to see my future ex husband Winston Duke be magnificent.

If there is anything deserving of breaking my self imposed silence it is me coming here and telling you to take your Black ass to go see this movie.  Even if you aren’t Black….take your Black ass to see this movie.

 

Now I am going to retreat back to suburban life.  Yes I am currently residing out in the suburbs.  I actually don’t hate it.  I don’t love it, I am a city girl  and shall remain such, but I don’t hate it.

When I consider the alternatives ……I am thankful.

I feel as if I should be making a series of plans but for right now I am just gonna wait.  That wait won’t be forever, that is not how I am built but I am gonna wait.  I’m gonna just ‘exist’ for a minute until after March 10 and make some decisions then.

I can see a future though, seriously where I leave Philadelphia for Pottstown and it’s not really the worst idea I can have.  Shit I’ve had many worse ideas.

I’m not sure if this means I am back constant reader, but I am here.  At times here is good enough.

 

#WakandaForever