I've been pretty fond of superhero movies for a long time. Long before they started manifesting via blockbuster feature films.
And yes, I too was excited about the coming of the Black Panther movie -- as much for the action and the fashions, as for the fact that it features a superhero whose skin color is the same as mine.
I saw the movie last weekend at a theater where there were a couple of Black Panther-theme celebrations going on, celebrations that involved local vendors and photo shoots and movie-related attire and African fitness-dancing demonstrations and such. As a fashion writer/observer, I looked forward to the fact that there would be plenty of moviegoers turning out in African clothing -- either fully or in the form of accessories -- and costumes. I wasn't disappointed.
More sights awaited on social media. All over the city, Black Panther viewers had made a special occasion of seeing the movie ... going as groups of family or friends (again, in straight-out Motherland garb or costumes), persuading nontheater-going spouses out of the comfort of their homes, seeing the movie multiple times and hashtagging "Wakanda forever!" -- the statement of loyalty to the fictional African country whose new king, T'Challa, is the Black Panther's alter-ego. Movie memes and profile-picture logos and online magazine features -- oh my! And I'm still slobbering over the outfits worn by actress Angela Bassett in her role as Queen Ramonda, T'Challa's mother.
The movie has gained specific praise for such benefits as its positive images of a wealthy, noncolonized African country and its strong female characters. Not surprisingly, the film also sparked a number of online discussions and debates: whether it took a movie to make black people feel better about themselves in a country that hasn't escaped the stigma of racism; whether the ability to come together and support Black Panther should motivate the black community to come together on more serious matters, or whether, as one social-media poster expressed, movie viewers could take time out to "just be"; and protests against comments that all this hoopla is reverse racism, with pointed reminders that "black panther" wasn't a made-up moniker, but an accepted name for a large black feline classified as a "big cat." Well, OK. The latter wasn't unexpected.
As one who likes to glean a transferable lesson from all notable experiences, my personal trip to Wakanda has left me not only dazzled by those fashions (stay tuned for more on them in another section of this newspaper) but conscious of this:
While we grown folk are watching heroes on the big screen, little eyes are watching us.
Yes, the children are dazzled by the superhero images, and there are certainly plenty who are dazzled by, and want to be like, the Black Panther. But after the credits roll and the comic books are put up, the young people are looking at us. Their parents. Their grandparents. Their aunts and uncles and older cousins. Their teachers. Their Scout leaders, church leaders, camp leaders. The random grown folk they see at the store, at the laundromat, at the post office, sitting nearby at special events, working in their yards down the street. The grown folk they see on the TV news and yep, in the newspaper.
Matter of fact, it's not always little eyes watching. We're watched by impressionable teens and young adults looking for someone to believe in. We're even watched by jaded peers who are looking to find fault, but who may just have their faith in mankind rekindled by seeing somebody who does the right and noble thing.
Not that any of us is perfect. But we all owe it to our communities to be the positive role models we can be. I'm reminded that as badly as I'm sometimes tempted to walk around with a chip on my shoulder, have an adult tantrum or do unto others as they do unto me, rather than as I would have them do unto me -- I can't. This world needs as many real-life heroes and superheroes, people worthy of looking up to, as it can get.
It was nice to see Black Panther, and I'm happy about its success. But the superheroes can't do all the work. Let's all don our capes and make our kids proud.
Email forever! Well, "Wakanda forever" sounds better ...
hwilliams@arkansasonline.com
Style on 02/25/2018