A Thank You Note to Chadwick Boseman
By Maria Staack
Graphic by Jas Calcitas
A few weeks ago, when I went to pick out my clothes in the morning, I noticed in my drawer a familiar black t-shirt with a bluish design. Reaching for it with delicate hands, I felt a twinge of sadness. The particular shirt I had noticed was my Black Panther t-shirt. My mom had ordered the whole family t-shirts in celebration of the movie when it first came out. Most days, I would have smiled upon seeing the shirt among my other clothes. I would have picked it out with a sense of pride at knowing the black excellence which had graced silver screens across the globe only two years earlier. However, this was not like most days. It was Sunday, August 29th, the day after we received the horrible news of Chadwick Boseman’s passing. In all honesty, until I saw my shirt, I had forgotten about the fever dream that was opening my instagram at 2am the night before to find his face plastered all over my feed—because like most of Gen Z, I get my news from Instagram. It seemed fake, like most of what has happened this year.
I didn’t know much about Chadwick Boseman, apart from his acting, but he entered my life in ways which cannot be understated. I still remember the energy surrounding the release of Black Panther. The celebrations started weeks in advance and lasted for months after; I’m not entirely sure they ever ended, honestly. The movie was such a cultural capstone that all of the magic that existed within the confines of the movie screen bled out into the real world, including Chadwick. Luckily, Lupita Nyong’o, Michael B. Jordan, Angela Bassett, and Letitia Wright, among others, helped him uphold the standard of black excellence, but his portrayal of the film’s titular character really meant something. I now see him in my t-shirt, in my friend’s Black Panther branded hand sanitizer, on backpacks at Target, and on my Netflix home page. His impact makes itself clear in my everyday life.
It’s always strange when a celebrity dies because I, like most people, never really knew them. Accompanied by paparazzi, stalkers, and gruellingly personal and time consuming press interviews, celebrity culture appears twisted and perverse. At the same time, however, it supplies the public with faces onto which we can project our deepest desires. When a black person becomes one of those faces, they represent desires which a white person could not. In recent years, I have heard the phrase ‘representation matters’ over and over again with regards to media from film to books. I would argue that Chadwick Boseman did more than just represent black people, he spoke for us, told our stories, and inspired us. For this reason, his passing marks a grave symbolism for many, including myself.
Every day, my fingers graze past the Black Panther t-shirt in my drawer, but I still haven’t worn it. The mourning period hasn’t ended, and I’m not sure if or when it will. Eventually, I’ll wear the shirt again. It will serve as a reminder of the great accomplishments of Chadwick Boseman and the people he allowed to dream. Thank you, King of Wakanda.