To Lose a King

To say that 2020 has been hard is an understatement. A microscopic virus has upended millions of lives worldwide, and our nation is experiencing an extension of the Civil Rights movement on the eve of the tensest presidential election to date. The things we have seen unfurl before us this year is unprecedented, and the losses have been tantamount: loss of jobs, of ways of life, and of life itself. 2020 has gut-punched many so far, and this weekend we deal with yet one more knockdown.

The loss of Chadwick Boseman.



Chadwick Boseman, 1976-2020

Yes, the loss of an actor is hitting many very hard. It comes at a time where we are already so tender from a constant blow of heavy situations. And inevitably, when a high-profile figure passes away and people collectively mourn on the internet, it won’t be long before we see the critique of doing so. There’s always that one individual who pops up to ask what they perceive is a logical question: “why is everyone so sad? It’s not like you knew them.”

It is a logical question, but it doesn’t make it less judgmental, let alone a bit mean-spirited.

Boseman’s passing is jarring for a number of reasons. He was young, he was talented, and every project he took a part garnered excitement for the next one. 

Boseman as Jackie Robinson in Legendary Pictures' "42" (2013).

He was also Black. A Black actor who, among his many coveted roles that also included a portrayal of Jackie Robinson (Boseman passed away on this year’s acknowledgement of Jackie Robinson Day), he portrayed a comic book hero in a movie franchise that reached millions worldwide. It wasn’t just any comic book hero, either. He played the Black Panther, King T’Challa of the African kingdom of Wakanda. 

Black audiences saw a major film studio produce a wide-reaching film that celebrated Black excellence. Black audiences saw themselves as royalty. Black nerds had even more reason to celebrate fantasy stories. And Black children saw faces that looked just like theirs be heroes, and be celebrated for their intelligence, their bravery, their strength, and their wisdom.

Chadwick Boseman carried the burden that came with leading the first major film production that utilized Black talent and culture in such a way. He knew that no matter who got the role of the Black Panther, the burden to ensure that Black audiences were given the representation they craved and deserved would be a heavy, yet important, one. It’s difficult to emphasize how truly hard it is to singularly represent one’s culture as a person of color, but take it from me, a woman of color: it’s hard. Boseman took up the burden, and without any one of us knowing, did so while fighting for his health. 

As King T'Challa in Marvel's Black Panther (2018).



In a world that demands we give 110%, he did just that at a time when he deserved to take all the time in the world for himself. Cancer is a monster, and having seen first-hand the toll that cancer takes on people, I am speechless to see all that Chadwick Boseman was able to give to us now knowing what pain he was fighting to keep at bay. 

And that’s what makes this loss a hard one. I did not know the man personally, but his work resonated with so many. At a time where the Black community is collectively mourning years of losses to police brutality, the unexpected loss of someone who championed for them in the realm of escapism hits extraordinarily hard. Boseman’s work, especially in Black Panther, created spaces to celebrate the power of Black lives. To have one less Black life in this world, especially a talented, bright, and powerful one like Boseman, is heartbreaking. 

A majority of the millions of people mourning the loss of Chadwick Boseman didn’t know him personally. But when an individual’s work touched people in a way that made them feel seen, made them feel like royalty, their fans have every right to mourn. To be sad. To attempt to question their sadness because they didn’t know someone individually is an insult to artists who pour their souls out into their work in the hopes that they can at least touch the soul of one other person.

Given the outpouring of shock and grief just mere hours after receiving the news of his deaths it’s clear Chadwick Boseman was able to do just that. For every Black child who “played” Black Panther, for every Black nerd that took their mom or dad to see this movie or waited in line at Disney’s California Adventure to take a picture with the Black Panther, and everyone else who simply loved the movie, Boseman’s work resonated deeply. It reminded us that not only is fantasy escapism important, but that it is also important that everyone be seen and represented in these escapisms. 

My heart grieves for his family, his friends, and for his biggest fans.

Rest now, Chadwick. Thank you so very much for sharing yourself with us all.