Selma

I was moved by the movie “Selma”. As I sat there in the theater watching the credits roll I took stock of my emotions and came to the conclusion that this was a great movie. This was an educational movie. This was a memorable movie. I remember thinking that every American should see this movie. I realized that this powerful piece of art had the power to educate the ignorant, motivate the reluctant, and serve as a catalyst for fundamental changes in how we relate to each other as a society. I could not imagine another movie being declared “Best Picture” of the year. 

In subsequent weeks, I became angry and disgusted with what seemed like the coordinated attacks on the movie, including the accuracy of how “Selma” depicted Dr. King’s relationship with President Johnson. I had assumed that “Selma” would dominate the Academy Awards. I had anticipated awards for “Best Picture”, “Best Director”, “Best Actor”, and “Best Original Song”. Slowly, I began to realize that wasn’t going to happen. Eventually, I began to ask myself why the “Oscars” were so important.

Why did I give a damn?

The first Academy Awards were presented in 1929. In 1971, I was a Marine stationed at the Marine Corps Base at 29 Palms, California. I watched the Academy Awards with my best friend, a white Marine from Ohio. Together, we watched Isaac Hayes perform the “Theme from Shaft”, and I will never forget it. America had never seen anything like it. Isaac Hayes became a household name that night, my friend became an Isaac Hayes fan for life, and I felt as proud as one human can possibly feel. The Oscar went to Ike that night, and from that moment on, the Academy Awards has been important to me.

But why should African-Americans place so much importance and emotional capital into something that we have so little control and influence over? The short answer is we shouldn’t.

But that doesn’t explain why we do.

The fact is, we have proportional control and influence over very few things in our lives, but the desire to receive approval and recognition from others is a powerful human characteristic. Whether we control it or not, it still feels good when those that do control something recognize that we are the best at doing it.

The moment of triumph in 1971 remains fresh in my mind not only for Isaac Hayes. I still retain high definition mental images of Denzel Washington in 2001 (Training Day), Jamie Foxx in 2004 (Ray), and Forest Whitaker in 2006 (The Last King of Scotland). They all won for “Best Actor”.

 Halle Berry in 2001 (Monster’s Ball), was the first and only Black woman to win for “Best Actress”

 Louis Gossett in 1982 (An Officer and a Gentleman), Denzel Washington in 1989 (Glory), Cuba Gooding, Jr. in 1996 (Jerry Maguire), Morgan Freeman in 2004 (Million Dollar Baby), all won the “Oscar” for “Best Supporting Actor”.

Whoopi Goldberg in 1990 (Ghost), Jennifer Hudson in 2006 (Dreamgirls), Mo’Nique in 2009 (Precious), Octavia Spencer in 2011 (The Help), and Lupita Nyong’o in 2013 (12 Years a Slave), took home the gold statue for “Best Supporting Actress".

 Prince in 1984 (Purple Rain), Herbie Hancock in 1986 (Round Midnight), Stevie Wonder in 1984 (The Woman in Red), Lionel Ritchie in 1985 (White Nights), and Juicy J, Frayser Boy, DJ Paul in 2005 (Hustle and Flow), won “Oscars” for “Best Original Song”.

 Steve McQueen in 2013 (12 Years a Slave) is the only Black to win a “Best Picture” Oscar.

I remember watching each of them stride to the stage as the world watched. I remember the dignity of Morgan Freeman, Halle Berry’s tears, Cuba Gooding Jr.’s enthusiasm, and Prince’s purple tuxedo. I remember all of them and their collective pride and humility. I was proud of them and their demonstrated excellence in their art. I knew that they were powerful role models for so many African American children that are so desperately in need of them.

As a child I spent a lot of time in Montgomery, Alabama. Half of my family lived there, cousins, aunts, and uncles. Montgomery is only 50 miles from Selma, less than an hour’s drive. In 1965 I was 12 years old. I was very much aware of the march from Selma to Montgomery. I was very familiar with Dexter Avenue and the State Capitol Building it led to. I was familiar with the department stores on Dexter Avenue that would not allow us to try on the shoes or clothes we might want to buy. I have vivid memories of Viola Liuzzo being killed by the Ku Klux Klan as she drove several Blacks to the Montgomery airport after the march was over. I thought about all of these things as I sat in the theater after seeing “Selma”, watching the credits roll.

By almost any measure, I am a well-educated man. I attended a very good high school, an outstanding university, and I hold a Master’s degree as well. But not once, (despite having a history major) not in a single class was I taught what happened in Selma and Montgomery in 1965. It is probably safe to say that few Americans were. The events there made the “Voting Rights Act” a reality. The Voting Rights Act made America what it is today.

I was flabbergasted when the director of this incredible movie did not receive a nomination for “Best Director”. However, that may have been pre-ordained. Since 1929, only three Black directors have been nominated for “Best Director”. None have won.  

The director of “Selma”, Ava DuVernay, and the movie’s producers did the world a solid with their powerful depiction of those historic events. They deserve to be recognized before the world for their achievement. I would love to see Ms. DuVernay stride to the stage and accept her industry’s most coveted award. I want to share her pride, admire her dignity, and bask in the glory of it all.

Maybe that’s why I give a damn.

“Selma” will not win the “Academy Award” for “Best Picture”.

“Selma” was the best movie I have ever seen.