Can we write "The Other"?

Another edition of Life Writing Live. Good to see you. Glad you're here. And like to remind you that if you enjoy these talks, please share. So that I have a good idea of which talks are most interesting to you, which ones you find most useful. This is a dialogue, not a monologue. So what is it that I wanted to address today? First of all, happy Afrofuturism Month. I say that Afrofuturism Month is a more interesting way to look at it than Black History Month because black history is just looking back in the past. And you know something? In terms of American history, there wasn't a really good time. There were times of people working hard. But I like the present and the future a lot more. So let's say happy Afrofuturism Month. And I wanted to add, address a core question that comes up a lot at science fiction conventions and other things that has to do with can we write each other? Can white people write black people? Can men write women and so forth? So, and my conclusion is not only can they, but they have and they must. And that is the way we knit the world together. It's as simple as that. That my, you know, that I just want to tell you guys a story and it's my personal so story concerning this so you understand why I'm so passionate about this. I was born in 1952. My parents were divorced by the time I was about, I don't know, six or seven, I'm not really sure. And I was raised in South Central Los Angeles by my mother and my sister who loved me dearly. But my mother never remarried. She never really dated much either. I hope she dated some. I hope there was something going on there. But I, you know, not, not very much. And so I was raised without a father in the, without brothers or uncles or any male role models. And it hurt because I was a small, unathletic, potbelly little four eyed nerd. I mean, I just, I loved poetry and puppies and flowers and I was just a really gentle kid. And life was kicking the living hell out of me and I had no frame of reference. I had no idea whether this was my problem alone or whether or not this was universal. I mean, it didn't even occur to me it was universal. You know, it was just my experience as far as I could see. Everybody else is having a great time in life, everybody else is popular and, you know, I had friends and girlfriends and other stuff and I felt just totally alone. And I think I was asking myself the question that young people always ask which is, what is it going to take for me to grow up, specifically in terms of becoming a man? You know, what did that even mean? I look back on it now, and I realize that what I felt being a man was going to be was to have the admiration of the men I admired and to be desired by the kinds of women I desired. If I could do those two things, I would have made it across the line into manhood. But I didn't have any role models. It's like, what do I do? I didn't have any knowledge. My mother couldn't help me, My sister couldn't help me. What do I do? So I decided that I would. I didn't really decide. I just started doing it. It was looking back on it that I realized what I decided to do. I would just read everything I could of the tough, savvy, you know, womanizing male figures in fiction. I'm talking Conan the Barbarian and Tarzan and James Bond and the Saint and Mike Hammer and all these guys, you know, just like, yeah, guys, I'm learning this guy stuff, you know, and it was just great because I'm learning how to be a guy. I'll walk like a guy. I'll learn to raise, you know, one eyebrow like Roger Moore did on the Saint. Steve Barnes. Steve Barnes. I was doing anything I could to, you know, okay, if that's what a man is, let me be that, you know? And there was only one problem. The problem was that all of them, and I mean all of them were white. And that wouldn't have been so large a problem if it weren't for the fact that when they did mention black people, we were servile, second class, stupid, had no agency, you know, just downright insulted. I mean, you know, in one of the Conan stories or one of the stories by Robert E. Howard, you know, Conan would go into a town and be. Or the character would go into a town and be repulsed by the stench of Negroes. You know, Edgar Rice Burroughs in Tarzan and his Son Jungle Tales of Tarzan, said straight out, white men have imagination. Black men have little, animals have none. You know, the core theory of Tarzan, the core I. The core creative idea behind Tarzan, was the bell curve writ large. That an English gentleman raised by apes is still more human than a black man. I mean, it's good God. But I couldn't reject it. You understand what I'm saying? That my need to figure out what it was to be a man, to be the type of human being that I was, was dependent. So it seemed, on trusting the perceptions of people who seemed to not think I was totally human. I couldn't walk away from it because I needed that, you know. And as I put it once I sacrificed my melanin on the altar of my testosterone. I needed to be a man more than I needed to be black. I'm not proud of that. It's just the truth. And it took. You know, I didn't even see that there was an alternative. Then in 1966, in an issue of the Fantastic Four comic book, a character named Black Panther appeared. And I watched as the Fantastic Four, who I loved. I mean, I bought every issue of Fantastic Four. That Reed Richards, the smartest man in the Marvel universe, was dazzled by the technology, this African kingdom. And they went there and Black Panther kicked all their butts. I mean, it was. I was like, what is this? What is this? And it's like a door opened in my heart, you understand? There was a couple of white Jewish guys that did this, Jack Kirby and Stan Lee, that they'd come out of World War II and they'd seen the dangers of exclusion. And Jack Kirby went to Stan one day and he said, why aren't there any black superheroes? And they created this. I don't even know if they knew any black people, but they created this from, from their hearts and their creativity. And this little 14 year old kid named Steve read this and his eyes opened and he saw himself and he saw the world differently. Fast forward to another year. You have to remember that I'd seen so many movies where black people were not just second class, but would die or just be like animals basically in the background. No real agency. Then I saw a movie called in the Heat of the Night. And in that movie, that might have been the first time I'd ever seen Sidney Poitier. Sidney Poitier is interviewing a white millionaire in this southern town and very politely, very politely admits that the man could be considered a person of interest in this murder case. And the white man slapped him. And to my shock, Sidney Poitier slapped him back. And Rod Steiger, the Southern sheriff, who was accompanying him to the millionaire's house, stood there with his mouth at the game and did not know what to do. And Sidney Poitier got away with it. You have to remember When I was 10 years old, my mother, who'd been raised in rural Georgia, who was as light skinned as Angelina Jolie, but black enough that she could not cross that line, who'd raised. Been raised in a time of Klan lynchings, told me, steve, if you let white people know how smart you are, they will kill you. So I was trapped. I was trapped. I knew that if I could not achieve, I would be grounded to dust. And I knew that if I tried to achieve, according to my mother, the person I was supposed to trust most in all the world, I'd be killed. I was trapped. And then in 1967, I saw Sidney Poitier strike a white man bat. The first black man I ever saw on the screen standing up and being a man. Maybe five years ago, I was in the Four Seasons Hotel in Beverly Hills, and I saw Sidney Poitier and Bernie Casey walking out of the bar, coming through the lobby. And I was able to walk up to him, who's still standing straight and tall, maybe it was seven years ago. And I shook his hand and I was able to say thank you. Thank you for giving me the first moment of hope. Thank you for being so strong for so long. He was so gracious. But the point here is that the director of that movie was white. John Ball, the original creator of the Virgil Tibbs character, was white. Sterling Sullivant, who I believe wrote the script, was white. And these men changed my life. These men reached into their own humanity and created heroes that touched me, that showed me that there was hope, that kept me going. Do you understand that? That that's all it takes to. Is the ability to extend your own humanity. That's part of what the arts are. When I celebrate Black History Month, Black Future History Month, I celebrate the men who helped me become a man. And there are black men there, there are Asians there, and there are so many wonderful white men there. My God, I don't know what I would have been without Stan Lee and Jack Kirby and Norman Jewison and Sterling Silliphant and John Ball. I don't know who I would have been. And now, in just a few days, I'm going to get to go see Black Panther, arguably the greatest work of Afrofuturism ever created. I mean, I don't know what's going to compare to it just based upon the visual images, whereas it definitely showcases black excellence, definitely. In terms of the writing and directing and the acting. It stems from a dream of common humanity. It stems from a wish to include, to open our hearts. That's what we really are when we're not afraid. That's what we are when we come from love. And if those men born in the 30s, 20s, I don't know, could open their hearts to create those images for a little kid like me, what could people do today? What could people do today? I say that they could simply create an image of a world that works for everyone. That's the challenge now. That's the challenge. To stand on the shoulders of these giants. These people took real risks. What you're about to see is going to be a financial juggernaut unlike anything that has ever existed that had black people attached to it. This is going to be different. And if you're wondering whether or not you can be a part of it, be you, white or black or Asian, male or female, the answer is yes. You can patronize it, you can teach it, you can support it, or you can create it yourselves. If you've got the heart to do that. Dear God, we want you. Please, please, please take a look at the basic Afrofuturism course we've created for fans and teachers and artists@www.afrofuturismwebinar.com. please, at least take a look at what we've got there and see whether or not it touches your art. You take no risk. Glad to refund your money if it doesn't work for you. All I'm saying is that people change the world for me. Now I'm trained to change the world for others. If race and gender are, I think, the nexus of what needs to the knot, the Gordian knot that needs to be unraveled at this point in our history, I am going to spend the rest of my life unraveling it. And by God, I'd love for you to join me. You take care. Www.afrofuturismwebinar.com Bless each and every one of you and thank you for listening. And know that it makes a difference. It matters. You matter, we matter. We're all alone in this together. Take.