Impact, not intent

If you've been on social media for the past two days, you know what happened at the BAFTA awards on Sunday. As Michael B. Jordan and Delroy Lindo were onstage presenting an award, John Davidson, a man with Tourette's syndrome whose life story was the subject of a nominated film, screamed out the N-word. Not a one-off, he also uttered the slur twice more at other Black artists. During the show, host Alan Cumming thanked the audience for "understanding" Mr. Davidson's outburst. 

Both BAFTA and the BBC, the broadcaster for the evening in the UK, made dutiful, boilerplate apologies. Mr. Davidson issued a statement saying he was "mortified" that people would think his outburst was who he was.

In all this, all the attention and care were aimed at John Davidson. He was the one who had to be consoled. He was the one who had to be assured that he'd done nothing wrong. He couldn't help it. It was involuntary. Not once were Mr. Jordan or Mr. Lindo considered. No, of course not. They had to "rise above it", like latter-day Jackie Robinsons, for the greater good.

I observed the oncoming storm on social media. What I saw was mostly white commenters excusing Mr. Davidson, with increasing vitriol, to the point where they labeled anyone countering them as "ableist". I saw comments saying that Mr. Davidson did not need to apologize to anyone; to do so would be to apologize for being who he was. Again, all the care and concern from these commenters were aimed at Mr. Davidson. None was shown to Messrs Jordan and Lindo.

I don't know John Davidson from John Lennon. Until Sunday night I had no inkling of who he was. I do not live with him. I do not know how he was raised. Although to me it is highly suspect that part of his affliction is to burst out with the n-word when Black people are around, I am willing to concede—barely—that it was not his intent to offend or insult.

But his intent is not the issue for me. For me it is the impact his outburst had, not only on Messrs Jordan and Lindo, but on Black people in general. For me the issue is how certain segments rushed to defend Mr. Davidson, while absolutely downplaying the impact of his uttering that word. Michael B. Jordan and Delroy Lindo were ciphers in this drama, mere stage scenery to Mr. Davidson's bravery for not hiding away from the world and being at British film's golden night. They could have been any two Black men; anyone will do. Society treats Black pain as insignificant. Society will always favor another marginalized community over Black hurt. This is in full bloom in this incident.

This is the final week of Black History Month in the United States, and it is very illuminating that this event occurred during this month. Mr. Davidson's defenders stripped him of all agency, depicting him as a helpless disabled man who cannot possibly be held to account for his actions. Meanwhile they demanded that Messrs Jordan and Lindo take the high road and not react. As Mr. Lindo told Vanity Fair afterwards, he and Mr. Jordan "did what they had to do" to get through the segment. How many countless Black people have said the same thing? How many countless Black people have had to swallow and carry on so as to not jeopardize themselves? This is why Black people are not out on the streets; why should they trust that "allies" will be there to back them up, rather than using them as cannon fodder? We're seeing this in real time with Representative Jasmine Crockett's bid for the Senate seat in Texas: white liberals went from "Go Jasmine!!" to "She can't win, she's divisive, I'd vote for a Black woman just not her." Black people simply cannot count on any one group being an ally; allyship is always conditional, to be withdrawn just at the moment when it is most needed. 

If I were in a wheelchair and I accidentally ran over someone's foot, I'd be expected to apologize. No one would countenance my using my disability as an excuse for why I should not. This case is no difference. It's not the intent for which Mr. Davidson, BAFTA, and the BBC should apologize: it is the impact. And yes, the show was on a two-hour tape delay, and the slurs could have been bleeped out. But the slurs would have still been said. In a way it's good that they were not edited. The evidence was there for all to see and hear. But all Mr. Davidson's defenders, and Mr. Davidson himself, focus on is intent. There is no consideration for the impact he had. And that, quite simply, is not good enough.

And, I'm sure many of his supporters secretly long to be able to get away with saying what he said. They wish they had a socially-accepted avenue to sling out slurs at will, and fall back on disability. I say this from observation. 

I will leave the final word to Mr. Lindo from another of his fine acting roles.

We have to be better, or we will perish.