At last Sunday night’s BAFTA Awards, the N-word was shouted in the vicinity of two prominent black actors, Michael B. Jordan and Delroy Lindo, while presenting the award for best visual effects. Despite this unwelcome interruption, the two men were forced to maintain their composure and go on with their speech. And although I have tried to understand the various complexities of that situation, despite the fact that this occurrence did indeed happen two more times that night, it seems to me like BBC, the network on which the award show, was aired still managed to disrespect those two men, and all of the black creatives which they had “graciously” hosted, by not taking any deliberate action. Instead, it was only after that racial slur was uttered did they address the issue, which they did with a statement that, for them, essentially took less than a second. They didn’t have the decency to not include the slur in the broadcast before it aired, despite the two hour delay. Or better yet, issue an actual apology to the actors who were forced to maintain their professionalism. And while the BBC focused on cutting out other, more “controversial” issues, these actors, and the many black creatives that were present that night, were, once again, forced to simply suck it up. 

I could not begin to describe the disappointment that I had felt when the news had first broken out. And I couldn’t imagine what it felt like to be a black person in that room, in that moment, hearing that word, which carried generational histories of brutality, trauma, and oppression. It was some of those internet comments that had really gotten to me after it had aired. 

All I saw that night from the internet’s most dedicated keyboard warriors were the same phrases that I had to learn to loathe from anyone defending the indefensible: the common ‘why are you so sensitive’ and the all-too-frequent ‘he didn’t mean it’. It is maddening that so many would excuse what happened as a ‘silly little mistake’ rather than take any time to question the network’s procedure in the first place.

But I can’t be all too surprised, however, because then I remember all of the times that one of my classmates had made a subtle, or unsubtle remark, in which a layer of prejudice was mixed in with ignorance was hidden underneath, which they they immediately took back with the only “good intentions” of a harmless and inoffensive joke. That meant no harm, of course. But I also remember all of the times in which they did not apologize, instead, doubled-down, saying it was just a silly little joke that didn’t mean much and that I shouldn’t needlessly get offended. 

I was forced, like all of those accomplished Black actors, directors, and movie-makers, to hold my tongue. To suck it up. But the truth is, I’m just tired. African Americans are tired. We’re tired of being the proverbial punching bag for racial humor. We’re sick of the clean-cut image that we’re forced to present in fear of being called out for any little mistake that we make. We’re exhausted from the higher expectations that have been placed on us in comparison to everyone else, and that if we don’t manage to meet those expectations, we immediately fall into all-too-famliar pitfall of harmful stereotypes. And most of all, we’re done with not being allowed to be offended. Why is everyone else allowed to be human, but we’re deprived of that basic human need to be angry? 

But I already know the cold response to the question that every black person has asked at one point within their lives, as it has only been answered by disenfranchisement and marginalization. Our anger is inconvenient. It forces us to be socially conscious of the system that has continued to chain us down, and to challenge a status quo that hasn’t really been changed, but repackaged to us in a more palatable manner. 

It’s normal to be obnoxious sometimes. It’s okay to be loud. And it’s well within your right to be offended, and to be angry. Those are the basic luxuries that should be afforded to African Americans but seem to be lost in a wave of racial stigma. 

Lewis Hamiliton has tried used his platform as the only Black driver in Formula 1 history to highlight racial injustice, but has been repeatedly been criticized by fans and sporting officials to “stick to racing” and “keep out of politics”. Naomi Osaka, both a Black and Japanese tennis player, withdrew from the 2021 French Open, specifically citing the “interrogation” style of press conferences that often target marginalized players. Proclaimed African American writer Ta-Nehisi Coates’ books has been dismissed by critics as “too bleak” or “too hopeless” despite some of the more grim realities that it highlighted in the country. 

Ryan Coogler made history at the BAFTAS later that night by becoming the first Black screenwriter to win Best Original Screenplay for his movie, Sinners, which highlighted and celebrated the black experience. But his accomplishment was diminished by the lack of respect the BBC showed to Coogler and the rest of his black contemporaries regarding the events that had transpired earlier that night as it seemed like those black creatives had to appeal to their hosts instead.

So many African Americans are denied their anger in the face of undeniable injustice as we are instead forced to conform and accommodate for that uncomfortable truth that so many people are unwilling to confront. 

Well, I think it’s our time to be angry. For African Americans to freely call out things that we know that are wrong even if it makes someone uncomfortable. They should feel discomfort. That discomfort may lead to a confrontation of that truth. After all, Black America has been uncomfortable for far too long.