Shifting the Tone to Hopefulness in 2021
Today was a historical day, not just for Americans but for modern democracy. Joe Biden and Kamala Harris were sworn in as the 46th President and 49th Vice President of the country, and for the first time in four years, many people — myself included—were finally able to breathe again. I won’t go too far down the controversial rabbit hole, because we all lived through the nightmarish reign of Donald Trump, but what I will say is this. Regardless of your political affiliations, it seems to me that we should all be able to agree on basic human decency. We should be able to come together where equality, progress, unity, hope, and love are concerned. It is my opinion that in this day and age, we—all of us, but specifically, the leader of our country—shouldn’t be fueling the fires of racial tension, celebrating white supremacy, and promoting division, inequality, and hate. I’m thankful that we’ve emerged from the darkness, having all seen what that kind of leadership looks like under President Trump.
There was a distinct shift in tone today, witnessing President Biden’s address to the nation this morning after being sworn into office. For the first time in four years, among other things, I can say with honesty that I feel like someone has my best interests, and the best interests of my country, at heart. I don’t feel the same fear and anxiety pulsating through my body that I did nearly every day of the Trump Administration. Gone are the days of waking up to crazier and crazier headlines about a leader unhinged and out of touch with reality. I’m comforted by the prospect of a rational, sane, and competent American leader and hopeful that progressive, science-based, empathetic, and intelligent decisions are on the horizon for this country now that we’ve left one of the darkest reigns in our history behind.
I’m not by any means suggesting that we’re out of the dark, or that this isn’t just the beginning of the work we have left to do. I’m saying that I’m hopeful and that I feel much safer with people like Joe Biden and Kamala Harris behind the wheel. And so, in sticking with my theme for January, this, the start of four years under a new administration, is the most obvious new beginning I could think of to comment on, and one I’ve been anxiously awaiting.
I’m an avid movie fan (RIP movie theaters. May they return to us one day) and at the end of every year, I look forward to when my favorite film podcasts and critics release their top 10 lists of the year. It’s always fun to compare notes with the people who review movies for a living and see where my top films rank. This was an especially strange year for film, in that most movies after late February weren’t able to have the traditional theater releases that they would have enjoyed in normal times. As theaters across the globe shut down, we relied on streaming platforms and subscription services to satisfy our cinematic cravings.
While we may have lost the movie-going experience, we didn’t miss out on great films. Indie films, documentaries, and foreign language films really seemed to thrive in 2020, and I felt richer for having access to many of these viewing experiences, as well as the fact that they weren’t drowned out in favor of higher-grossing blockbusters, which is often the case.
Of the films I watched in 2020, one of my favorites came at the very end of the year in Steve McQueen’s, Small Axe, which is actually a collection of five films. In trying to decide on something to recommend for this month’s theme, new beginnings, I felt that the first of McQueen’s five films, Mangrove, which follows a historic trial in 1970s England, and which I find just as relevant and powerful today, would be a striking companion to what I hope is the start of a new era in American politics and governing.
I was transfixed by the tenacity displayed throughout the film by each of the Mangrove Nine, a group of protestors that are arrested and charged with inciting a riot during what is essentially a peaceful demonstration protesting the harassment they’ve endured by the British police. What follows is a high-profile trial at London’s Old Bailey in 1971 in which each of the nine is tried. What struck me most about this case was that two of the nine chose to represent themselves, which was unheard of at the time, and at which they both did quite well against the prosecution considering the entire system was designed to see them fail.
The Mangrove restaurant in Notting Hill, for which the film is named, was owned by Frank Crichlow—one of the Mangrove Nine—and became known as a sort of meeting place for black activists and civil rights campaigners (including the British Black Panthers), but more generally, it was a place for the black community in the area to come together over food and exchange ideas.
Over time, the people who hung around the Mangrove were continuously harassed by the British police, and it became a battleground as well as a haven. The restaurant was raided on many occasions on suspicion of drugs, prostitution, and other nefarious activities, and eventually had its license as an all-night cafe taken away, meaning the restaurant, which previously operated from 6 pm-6 am, had to close at 11 pm and only operate during the day. The rampant discrimination and racism, as portrayed by the film, was palpable.
The passion for justice shown by the nine was unparalleled, and as I watched this film, I wasn’t surprised at how pompous, self-important, and completely unapologetic the officers of the prosecution appeared throughout, instead, I was saddened and incensed to have yet another example of this kind of behavior to reference. It also made me very aware that these feelings only further illustrate my own white privilege, and that even though I’m of mixed race, I’m able to pass as white (apart from my last name), and as such, will never know this particular brand of injustice. It made me uncomfortable in that way that all disturbing, cruel, and evil things in this world make me uncomfortable, but it made me hopeful too because the ending is… well, I’ll leave that for you to discover at your will.
I wanted to recommend and discuss this film as it relates to new beginnings for its obvious historical importance, as well as its relevance today. As we look to new beginnings in America, we have to look back in history and not only acknowledge our mistakes, failures, and injustices, but vow to reorganize and reform the systems in place that no longer serve us. Art has always been a powerful medium for cultural expression and recounting history, and McQueen’s film is no different. Though this story doesn’t take place in America, nor the present-day, its significance cannot be overlooked. It’s yet another story that urges us to see the error of our ways and shows us that the impossible can become possible if we do the work.
Racism and white supremacy have long been at the center of our collective history, and while it’s certainly not the only skeleton in our closet, it’s one of our oldest. To me, one of the obvious ways to achieve more understanding and empathy is to seek out media, art, literature, and the like that force us to learn. We need to become part of the conversation instead of spectators, we need to stop acting like racism and inequality, of any kind, doesn’t affect all of us, and finally, we need to act. This is not a new or original thought on my part, but it bears repeating.
The more that stories, like Mangrove, dominate our cultural zeitgeist, the more we are forced to reckon with them. We seem to finally be in a moment where more of these types of stories are being told accurately, candidly, and by the right people, and that makes all the difference. The idea of new beginnings can and will mean different things to different people, but this year, in 2021 America, I’m hopeful that it will mean defining and working toward a path to healing, change, and progress for marginalized people in our country.
You can watch Mangrove, along with all four other of McQueen’s anthology films, on Amazon Prime right now.
