admitting Will Smith: harm he’s done to others.

When Will Smith stormed onto the Oscar stage to strike Chris Rock for making a joke about his wife’s short hair, he did a lot more damage than just to Rock’s face. With a single petulant blow, he advocated violence, diminished women, insulted the entertainment industry, and perpetuated stereotypes about the Black community. 

That’s a lot to unpack. Let’s start with the facts: Rock made a reference to Smith’s wife, Jada Pinkett Smith, as looking like Demi Moore in GI Jane, in which Moore had shaved her head. Jada Pinkett Smith suffers from alopecia, which causes hair loss. Ok, I can see where the Smiths might not have found that joke funny. But Hollywood awards shows are traditionally a venue where much worse things have been said about celebrities as a means of downplaying the fact that it’s basically a gathering of multimillionaires giving each other awards to boost business so they can make even more money.

The Smiths could have reacted by politely laughing along with the joke or by glowering angrily at Rock. Instead, Smith felt the need to get up in front of his industry peers and millions of people around the world, hit another man, then return to his seat to bellow: “Keep my wife's name out of your fucking mouth.” Twice.

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Some have romanticized Smith’s actions as that of a loving husband defending his wife. Comedian Tiffany Haddish, who starred in the movie Girls Trip with Pinkett Smith, praisedSmith’s actions: “[F]or me, it was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen because it made me believe that there are still men out there that love and care about their women, their wives.” 

Actually, it was the opposite. Smith’s slap was also a slap to women. If Rock had physically attacked Pinkett Smith, Smith’s intervention would have been welcome. Or if he’d remained in his seat and yelled his post-slap threat, that would have been unnecessary, but understandable. But by hitting Rock, he announced that his wife was incapable of defending herself—against words. From everything I’d seen of Pinkett Smith over the years, she’s a very capable, tough, smart woman who can single-handedly take on a lame joke at the Academy Awards show.

This patronizing, paternal attitude infantilizes women and reduces them to helpless damsels needing a Big Strong Man to defend their honor lest they swoon from the vapors. If he was really doing it for his wife, and not his own need to prove himself, he might have thought about the negative attention this brought on them, much harsher than the benign joke. Thatwould have been truly defending and respecting her. This “women need men to defend them” is the same justification currently being proclaimed by conservatives passing laws to restrict abortion and the LGBTQ+ community. 

Worse than the slap was Smith’s tearful, self-serving acceptance speech in which he rambled on about all the women in the movie King Richard that he’s protected. Those who protect don’t brag about it in front of 15 million people. They just do it and shut up. You don’t do it as a movie promotion claiming how you’re like the character you just won an award portraying. By using these women to virtue signal, he was in fact exploiting them to benefit himself. But, of course, the speech was about justifying his violence. Apparently, so many people need Smith’s protection that occasionally it gets too much and someone needs to be smacked.

What is the legacy of Smith’s violence? He’s brought back the Toxic Bro ideal of embracing Kobra Kai teachings of “might makes right” and “talk is for losers.” Let’s not forget that this macho John Wayne philosophy was expressed in two movies in which Wayne spanked grown women to teach them a lesson. Young boys—especially Black boys—watching their movie idol not just hit another man over a joke, but then justify it as him being a superhero-like protector, are now much more prone to follow in his childish footsteps. Perhaps the saddest confirmation of this is the tweet from Smith’s child Jaden: “And That’s How We Do It.”

That's How We Do It

The Black community also takes a direct hit from Smith. One of the main talking points from those supporting the systemic racism in America is characterizing Blacks as more prone to violence and less able to control their emotions. Smith just gave comfort to the enemy by providing them with the perfect optics they were dreaming of. Fox News host Jeanine Pirro wasted no time going full-metal jacket racist by declaring the Oscars are “not the hood.” What would she have said if Brad Pitt slapped Ricky Gervais? This isn’t Rodeo Drive? Many will be reinvigorated to continue their campaign to marginalize African Americans and others through voter suppression campaign.

As for the damage to show business, Smith’s violence is an implied threat to all comedians who now have to worry that an edgy or insulting joke might be met with violence. Good thing Don Rickles, Bill Burr, or Ricky Gervais weren’t there. As comedian Kathy Griffin tweeted: “Now we all have to worry about who wants to be the next Will Smith in comedy clubs and theaters.” 

The one bright note is that Chris Rock, clearly stunned, managed to handle the moment with grace and maturity. If only Smith’s acceptance speech had shown similar grace and maturity—and included, instead of self-aggrandizing excuses, a heartfelt apology to Rock.

Fresh Prince of Bel-Air October 5, 1994 

I met Will Smith when I appeared on Fresh Prince of Bel-Air 28 years ago. And I’ve been to his house. I like him. He’s charming, sincere, and funny. I’m also a big fan of his movies. He’s an accomplished and dedicated actor who deserves the professional accolades he’s received. But it will be difficult to watch the next movie without remembering this sad performance.

I don’t want to see him punished or ostracized because of this one, albeit a big one, mistake. I just want this to be a cautionary tale for others not to romanticize or glorify bad behavior. And I want Smith to be the man who really protects others—by admitting the harm he’s done to others.

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Update: Since this article was first published, Will Smith has issued an apology to Chris Rock, the Academy, and the audience. In part, he posted:

“Violence in all of its forms is poisonous and destructive. My behavior at last night’s Academy Awards was unacceptable and inexcusable. Jokes at my expense are part of the job, but a joke about Jada’s medical condition was too much for me to bear and I reacted emotionally,” Smith wrote. “I would like to publicly apologize to you, Chris. I was out of line and I was wrong. I am embarrassed and my actions were not indicative of the man I want to be. There is no place for violence in a world of love and kindness.”

Will Smith @ Oscars 2022

https://www.blackartinamerica.com/index.php/2022/03/28/we-need-to-ask-deeper-questions-on-will-smith-and-chris-rock-black-trauma-economics-and-healing/

Healing is Needed

There are several layers to what happened at the Oscars during “the slap that echoed across the world” (quoting the reference to Sidney Poitier’s character slapping a plantation owner in a 1967 episode of The Heat of the Night).

Violence took on many forms last night at the Oscars. 

There was verbal violence in the form of a joke by Chris Rock. Referring to Jada’s shaved head, he said, “Jada, I love you. G.I. Jane 2, can’t wait to see it, all right?” Then there was the physical violence in response by Will Smith when he walked onto the stage and slapped Rock before returning to his seat. There is the history of conditioning in this country that taught us as a people to be violent. And perhaps there was the violence within Will’s personal narrative that has him engaging in an inner war with himself, playing out for all to see.

Many will laugh at what happened, but laughing is a lazy approach to addressing the physical and verbal violence of the moment. Laughing allows us to not take it as seriously as it was. It removes personal, social, and culturally responsibility to look deeper and ask questions that equip us to heal ourselves and our people.

Some will talk about what they would have done if slapped. Again, that’s a cheap approach to solving a deeper problem as it relates to the stories that have shaped how we think we would have reacted. If you would have reciprocated physical violence, why is that? Who taught you to respond in that way? Who would benefit from your violence? Who loses something? Are there alternatives?

Here’s a list we need to unpack as a people:

1. The implications for deeper internal narratives of trauma, including Will’s personal story which he talks about in his most recent book, as well as the story of trauma experienced by Black people over hundreds of years in this country. How might these narratives factor into what happened?
2. The economics of the slap. Which companies benefited from the slap.
3. Ideas of what it means to protect Black women. Is violence the only option?
4. Various forms of violence. Are were viewing the situation through both the verbal violence of words used to harm and the physical violence?
5. The global narrative of how Black men are perceived to be violent and unable to control their emotions. But who gets to determine what control looks like for a person who has experienced systemic racial violence in its many forms?
6. Ideas of restraint and hiding inner pain to protect one’s ability to economically benefit from capitalism. Simply put, how often do we go through life wearing masks to be seen as a safe and acceptable Black person?

There are those who believe Will Smith did the right thing. 

Does that mean the only way to protect the Black woman is to inflict physical violence on verbal perpetrators of violence? Who taught us that protecting the Black woman from harm requires violence as the only option? Who taught you that the only way to garner respect is through inflicting pain?

In this country, the Black man has historically been kept from defending Black women. He has been, and continues to be, killed for doing so—especially if he is protecting her from White violence. This raises another question:

Would things have played out differently if a White man made the joke? 

Yes, they would have. Will may not have walked up there and slapped a White man. Why? Because that’s not permissible violence. But he can slap a Black man. That’s permissible violence and, for many, not even a crime. It’s expected behavior. How do we shift that narrative and demand equity in dignity humanity, and respect?

And what about the companies that benefit from the slap? 

Companies that make movies and sell advertising. Netflix, Apple, and Disney, for instance, but even the Oscars and movie studios. Companies that buy and sell advertising like The Trade Desk, Magnite, and PubMatic too. Studios and media outlets will capitalize on the moment for rating and economic gain. Will Smith made rich people more money last night. Investors are forward thinking. They understand the future economic gain of a given moment. So while the situation might not immediately convert to cash, it will definitely generate money next year. Media moments move markets. They will lean into unhealthy conversations to make it easy for us to overlook the deeper issues and engage in intellectually lazy conversations. Wealthy people could not care less about the cultural implications of Black trauma. They are looking at how the situation makes money.

We must ask bigger questions and have deeper conversations. 

This moment is an opportunity to shift the conversations so that they land somewhere productive for our people to help move us in a healthier direction. What did our culture lose, gain, and perpetuate that does not serve us well? What’s the inner work that each of us needs to do in order to heal and overcome ideas of identity that do not serve us well? What does our culture need to heal? Do we even have the right in this country to heal from our trauma? Do we give each other permission to heal from our inner pain? America has always monetized our bodies through violence, and in some cases, we have been rewarded for harming our own people to the economic gain of people who don’t look like us.

What about Jada in this situation?

What harm was done to her in addition to the verbal violence by Chris Rock? What did she expect from her husband? Is this even what she wanted from him, or did he assert his idea of what she needed that may have really just made him feel good about himself as a protector? What kind of protection, emotional protection included, did she need years before the Oscars? Do we even create space in our relationships to ask each other what we need to feel safe and protected? We don’t know. Some of us don’t even know what we need to feel protected and safe. Male or female. We often only know what we have been taught and conditioned to expect. We concede our agency and right for healthy relationships to inherited narratives from family and society that are not healthy and don’t serve anyone well.

Clearly from my litany of questions, I don’t have the answers. Perhaps the answers are that we think more deeply. Look inward and begin to find those things within ourselves that need healing in order to stop harming ourselves and others, and self-sabotaging our journey. So much harm has been done to us as a people, and there is a lot for us to heal. Healing begins with awareness. That’s step one. A genuine desire to heal is step two. Then there’s the willingness to do something about it, to create action to actually heal.

I’m not sure how to best close out this piece. Maybe it doesn’t need a conclusion because, just like what we witnessed at the Oscars, there is no clean and easy way to move on. It’s not that simple. The story isn’t over and there is a lot more work to be done—on ourselves, in our communities, within our culture, and the broader society.