Black Panther Wasn’t Made For White People.

I sat in the back of the theater excited to visit Wakanda for the second time. A few of my friends had seen the movie more than 5 times and I felt like I was so behind the curve. As I sat in the back of the theater with my large popcorn and tasty beverage, I smiled at the anticipation of seeing Michael B. Jordan and Lupita n them kill it on screen.

On opening weekend, my husband and I saw Black Panther at AMC Camp Creek. We were surrounded by a variety of men and women of color who had all been anticipating this epic, life altering, moment in history. There were dashiki’s and head wraps. There were people in all black. Cars were parked a mile from the theater and drones of people were flooding into the building at 2:00 on a Thursday afternoon.

About 10 minutes into the movie, I could detect a stark contrast in the air. This ride into Wakanda felt different from the first. I scanned the room and realized I was sitting among middle class, white America. I was not in Wakanda, I was in Midtown.

It pained me every time a joke went unanswered in that midtown theater. There were no laughs when Okoye threw her wig in the casino during the epic fight scene. No laughs when Klaus said he made it rain (one of my favorite jokes simply because he made himself laugh). There were obviously no laughs when Suri said “yay, another broken…