How White Supremacy Killed Actor Michael K Williams
How White Supremacy Killed Actor Michael K. Williams by Edward M. Garnes, Jr. is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.
Based on a work at www.edwardgarnes.com.
By Ed Garnes, M.A., Founder, Sweet Tea Ethics & From Afros To Shelltoes
“People don’t have any mercy. They tear you limb from limb, in the name of love. Then, when you’re dead, when they’ve killed you by what they made you go through, they say you didn’t have any character. They weep big, bitter tears – not for you. For themselves, because they’ve lost their toy.“–James Baldwin
Michael K. Williams is family. Period! I don’t care about checking our bloodlines or ancestry websites for specific quantification of family lineage. His work spoke to and for the African diaspora. A black and sometimes blue people who are traversing this beguiling America, killing us for sport. He was not merely an actor. He was a spiritual trickster who received ancestral head nods and blessings from purple bag playas hugging blocks before summoning each character. We felt brother Michael K on a bone-deep level. His charm. His hard-bottom shoe sophistication could have him move from a straight-up gangsta to an emotionally available man for all times. It makes sense now that he got his break as a dancer because the way he made us swoon with every performance was Alvin Ailey- esque.
So how did we get here? Him dead. Maybe an overdose or other means. As we spent this day off from work clutching our cultural pearls, another talented star had gone to the upper room. I know this for sure!!!! On hearing the news of his passing, White supremacy sipped an aged scotch with glee that it had indeed won another round. Brother Michael K didn’t just die of alleged drug use; he was slowly killed each minute of his existence by the demons of White supremacy. The supremacy inhibiting his chances of success caused him to internalize his pain with deafening silence and insisted he wear masks that grinned and lied. As he frets and struts on Hollywood stages that never saw him, a Black on purpose kind of brother, as fully human. Respected scholar Rev. Dr. Gregory Ellison captures the psyche dilemmas of Black men in an apt metaphor he calls being “cut dead but still alive.” For Rev. Dr. Ellison, each trauma Black men experience, like being gun downed by privileged cops at a playground, denied a home loan with excellent credit, accused of being a threat at a coffee shop, forced to show ID with every step on the White campus you are attending on full scholarship, becomes a “cut” or psychological wound that goes unhealed while still navigating the stressors of everyday living as a Black man. W.E.B Dubois summarized this classic psyche dilemma of being in but not of America as “double consciousness.” Sometimes we refer to it as code-switching. But whatever the term, Black men face unique psyche challenges when confronting American demons that wreak havoc on their lived experience.
So how was Brother Michael K “cut dead” but still alive? Every time this beautiful brother with a brilliant smile and African kissed skin was called ugly. Every time casting directors said he was too “Black” for a role. Every time the social capital of being a “star” granted him no extra privileges or justice when wronged. Every time he spoke of his past trauma and surviving being molested, and no one gave a damn. The world glossed over this fact as no one seemed to have any fucks to give regarding the psychological torment and emotional impact of being a survivor. Every time Black folks did not root for this shining prince who gave us a little of his soul to keep with each role.
So what do we do now? We hold space for the brothers in our lives to be their authentic selves without apology or judgment. We cast off White folks’ inept theories and toxic visions of manhood and yield to our African-centered psychic selves summoning the resilience, improvisation, and spiritual center innate in our being. We sit at the feet of elder Black men and barbershop all-stars whose oral histories provide wisdom for the journey. We stop seeing Black men through White-eyes and embrace all brothers…. all brothers regardless of gender expression, class, religion, socioeconomic status, region, etc. We trust that love…pure unmitigated Black love…has always been the answer to any equation.
How White Supremacy Killed Actor Michael K. Williams by Edward M. Garnes, Jr. is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.
Based on a work at www.edwardgarnes.com.
THANK YOU Mr.Garnes for this article. I always saw Mr. Wlliams’ pain in his brillant performancs. Not knowing his story, I gravitated to his work as a human being without any tags. Then again maybe I did feel a kinsmanship to this beautiful black skin man like my Dad, a black skin man in a yellow skin family. He too suffered for his skin color and was a loner, but a perfectionist to placate his pain. They say charity begans at home so let’s as African Americans who do not mind being called Black by identification as long as our skin is not black, stop being prejudice toward our black skin family members and our neighbors. Mr. William should have had all this adulation, editorials and love shown to him while he was living. I never through social media thought to congratulated him. No excuses! I should have given him his roses while he was living. Also, let’s celebrate the whole person. As Dr. King said “judged not by the color of their skin, but by the content of their character”.