The Marvel movie “Black Panther” has paved the way for young black children in the United States and around the globe. It has made over $1 billion in less than a month and has created controversy between blacks and whites.
Peggy Mclntosh once said, “I think whites are carefully taught not to recognize white privilege, as males are taught not to recognize male privilege.”
As an individual with a refugee background who was relocated to Salt Lake City with my family, this movie hit home. At that time, we did not speak any English and had no connections here. I was thrown into fifth grade with no ability to read or write English. The transition was difficult because of no role models and no media representatives who looked like me. My hair, lips and skin color were different. I felt like an “other” trying to fit in with my classmates.
For some, this movie triggers what is called white fragility, racial stress that triggers defense mechanisms such as guilt, fear, anger, etc. Throughout history, society has maintained white fragility by segregation, racial belonging, socialization, entitlement, racial discomfort, racial arrogance, universalism and individualism.
Feb. 15 was a defining night for many black men and women in America, especially for people with backgrounds similar to mine. As I looked up at the screen, I saw powerful black women who looked like me, women who were smart, goal-driven and not dependent on a male figure to save them. The Marvel movie was no longer just a movie, it became my hero.
“Black Panther” gave hope to some for a future where the structure of racism is broken. The movie discussed the differences between what we brothers and sisters have been fighting over for years and gave black people some closure they needed to unite.
After watching the movie and having conversations with friends who are white regarding how the movie was “overrated,” “talked-up” and “too many black people in it,” I was livid. Listening to those words come out of my friends’, colleagues’ and co-workers’ mouths was difficult. Those words reminded me of the 2016 election of President Donald Trump. I felt sick to my stomach and wanted to throw up because the land of milk and honey is the country of United We Stand.
After weeks of self-reflection and sense of feeling down, the war against white fragility started. After all, education is the immunization you inject into white fragility before you can begin to cure the issues. I engaged in conversations with friends, colleagues and co-workers by explaining white privilege, by asking the question “What is white fragility?” and how the words play a role in the Marvel movie “Black Panther.”
“Wakanda Forever” is a salute that gives the black community solidarity. “Black Panther” is not just a Marvel movie, but to most black people the movie represents being strong, smart and the idealization of what our lives would have looked like if slavery never took place. For those of you questioning why the cast is all black, have you ever stepped back and questioned how many movies have all white casts? This is white privilege.
Torle Nenbee was born in Nigeria and with her family came to America on a refugee visa. She was relocated to Utah when she was 11 years old and became a citizen when she was 18. She received her bachelor’s of sociology at the University of Anchorage Alaska, served as a Peace Corps volunteer for three years in Lesotho, and is now studying for a master’s degree in social work at the University of Utah.
