Teaching ‘Black Panther’

It’s been over a year since the release of ‘Black Panther’ but some of the kids at South East Junior High haven’t seen it. 

They tell me this after my eyes have practically doubled in size at the sight of the bright yellow school bus contrasted with a big tree shedding fall leaves near the entrance and I’ve taken a moment to lean moodily on the quintessential steel lockers in the hall.

America can be a bit of a movie sometimes and occasionally I play along.

A Namibian writer stands in front of a selection of the school’s brightest black and brown students. The school counsellor has introduced her as a successful international writer and fall resident at the University of Iowa. The teens are a mixture of bored, curious and avoiding eye contact but they all perk up when the writer mentions a Marvel movie.

“So… has everybody seen Black Panther?”

The ones who have straighten up a bit and nod. The ones who haven’t squirm a little and focus but they all know what I mean about representation. 

How everyone keeps talking about it and everyone keeps celebrating the wins but the students still feel as though they don’t see themselves much reflected in books, in media or at the cinema. Not unless most black and brown people are secretly criminals, maids, villains, sidekicks, tokens or being saved. 

I’m a good 20 years older than them but they feel pretty much the same way I did when I was a kid. 

Sneakily on the sidelines somehow because every representational inch gained is met with such promising fuss then things take too long and then there’s too little to truly and regularly feel reflected. 

The truth is while the students loved ‘Black Panther’ – T’Challa, the women of Wakanda, the tech, the fight scenes and the cast – they want more. They want characters who look like us to reflect every age, reality, situation and profession, every conundrum, adventure and unbridled flight of fancy.

I think of these kids when Chadwick Boseman passes away. 

I remember how their eyes lit up when they realised they would be having a lesson on narrative nonfiction and the personal essay (boring!) but they would be learning about those things via a discussion about the movie and unpacking why black people were so excited about it (that’s more like it!). 

Thinking of them almost precisely a year later, I dread the moment when they hear the news. 

It’s a sad thing to lose your heroes. It’s sadder still when you realise they were a hero on and off the screen. Fighting bad guys in movies and colon cancer between takes. 

On screen, Boseman was Black Panther, Jackie Robinson, Thurgood Marshall and James Brown, but he was also human. 

And it is Chadwick Boseman the human who battled disease for four years while giving cinematic life to the legend black kids will look to whenever representation is slim or too far between. 

We didn’t get to have our hero long, so I hope black kids get to hear of his passing gently. 

I hope they are allowed to cry, feel bad or slip out of a classroom to take a breath. 

Gently.

Especially the student I don’t quite catch sight of in a sea of precious teen faces but who hears me ask if they’ve seen ‘Black Panther’ and says cheekily, now profoundly…

“Wakanda forever.”

In an age of information overload, Sunrise is The Namibian’s morning briefing, delivered at 6h00 from Monday to Friday. It offers a curated rundown of the most important stories from the past 24 hours – occasionally with a light, witty touch. It’s an essential way to stay informed. Subscribe and join our newsletter community.