“The Dopeness of a Perceived Supervillian”

Sharonica Nelson

Art of Creative Unity Award 2020 | Honorable Mention

The other day my daughter said “My daddy doesn’t get hurt or sick. He’s big and strong...like Superman. Yea, like Superman.” It warmed my heart. Then, suddenly, a rush of sadness jolted through my body. Sadness because just as she sees him as a superhero, dominant culture perceives him as nothing, and they attempt to diminish his dopeness because of their fears.

They view his life with eyes of disdain, disregard, and disgust.

They only see Big. Black. Male.

In all of the negative senses of the terms.

Unlovable, untrustworthy, and unworthy of life.

A nuisance and a menace to society…

A perceived supervillain.

But my husband is dope. And many things make him dope...He can fix anything, he’ll give his last, he’s hardworking, but most importantly, he has a good heart. He’s quick to be good to others and sometimes- it scares me. At times I want to stop him, but I pull back because I don’t want to dim his dopeness because of my fears.

You see, I fear for his life. 

I often fear that someone will take his dopeness for a threat. And as a black woman, I constantly tiptoe emotionally on this tightrope of duality- deep love overcast with immense fear.

Hear our plight…

Recently, he saw that someone had dropped their mask on the side of the car. He ran up to the car, picked it up, and tapped on the window to return it. My breath escaped my body. I suffocated a little, and I hoped he didn’t notice. I wanted to stop him. I wondered if they were white, how’d they perceive a big, black man running up to their car, bending down quickly, and tapping on the window with a seemingly foreign object in his hand. 

But this is what superheroes do; they help others in need, even when they don't realize they need it. And, besides, I shouldn’t dim his dopeness because of my fears.

My husband loves babies! If he sees a baby, he might ask to hold it. When babies smile and coo at him, even randomly at the store, he will play with them. He will make faces for as long as the baby is focused on him, even the White ones. He just can’t help it. Once at a restaurant, a white family was seated close to us. Their baby started it! It was all his fault. He started smiling and waving at my husband. And like usual he gave that precious baby his undivided attention, waiving, smiling, making funny faces and hand gestures. The baby loved it. The parents not so much. The mother hid her disgust, disdain, and disregard in plain sight behind a fake tooth gritting smile. The father never looked up. Luckily, it was the end of their meal. The family packed up to leave and dropped the baby’s bib. My husband got their attention and pointed down to the bib. They swiftly picked it up and turned to leave, without even a thank you. But I’d felt the tension and parental disapproval throughout the entire interaction, yet he was so intent on the baby. I swallowed big gulps of wanting to tell him to LEAVE THE FOLKS BABY ALONE. But the baby, in all of his innocence, was enjoying the moment. Besides this is what heroes do...They show attention to the least of us when others, even parents, don’t or won’t...And, I didn’t want to dim his dopeness because of my fears. 

Once on our way out on a date, we were dressed to the 9s. Looking good and smelling even better. While in route, we witnessed an older man be pushed down a hill into the thick brush by the winds created as cars swiftly passed him on the road. He fell at least 15 feet to what we thought was unconsciousness or even death. My husband immediately parked the car, jumped out the car, sprinted to the man, and began anxiously and forcefully pulling him out of the bushes, plants, and overgrowth. He wasn’t concerned about his nice attire, the fact that he was wearing his best cologne. He only cared about getting the elderly man to safety. I sat nervously in the car. I wondered how it would be perceived if police officers passed and saw him seemingly tussling with a helpless, elderly man down in a thick bush encampment. Would they think he was hurting him, robbing him, or even killing him? My mind wanted him to stop, but my heart knew he should continue. I wiped away the thought of telling of him to stop like hot sweat from my brow and put on a proud smile as he returned to the car, and as the man walked away disoriented, but unscathed. Besides this is what superheroes do. They drop everything and put other’s welfare above their own...And, I didn’t want to dim his dopeness because of my fears. 

I hate this emotional rollercoaster that I constantly clench my teeth and smile while riding because of both the love and fear housed in my heart for this real-life hero.

It’s unfair to us both.

I should just let him be.

But I worry that dominant culture views him, and others like him, as supervillains through eyes of disregard, disdain, distrust.

I fear that they see big and black in all of the negative senses.

Unlovable, untrustworthy, and unworthy of life.

A nuisance and a menace to society.

I fear that they perceive him as a supervillain when he’s actually a superhero, in every sense of the word.

...And they, society, dominate culture must stop negating, overlooking, and dimming his dopeness in spite of their reckless, unwarranted fears. Because as my daughter mentioned, he's our Superman and has represented that to so many others.