Seydou, Katherine, Dorothy, Mary and Monk
Recently, I watched three movies: *American Fiction*, *I Am Captain*, and *Hidden Figures*. Although I hesitated to write about them, one afternoon, scattered thoughts in my mind seemed to be threaded together by golden and silver strands, spiraling into coherent sentences.
Let’s start with *I Am Captain*:
They traverse the Sahara Desert to reach the Mediterranean, experiencing deceit over fake passports, seeing women collapse from exhaustion and abandonment under the scorching sun, and witnessing fellow travelers being left to die in the desert. The desolate Sahara desert shows nobody mercy, evaporating even the last drop of tears.
Years later, if these foreign-born Black individuals thrive in Europe and America, receiving quality education and joining top organizations, we enter the world of *Hidden Figures*:
Discrimination is not just “unequal treatment due to defects, flaws, abilities, or origin.” It’s when Katherine first enters the office and is mistaken for a cleaner, tasked with taking out the trash; when she faces stares for sharing an office with male colleagues; when she’s denied a bus seat; or when she spends twenty minutes walking to a “colored women’s restroom” in another building, and when no one uses the communal coffee pot after she does.
When Katherine’s boss criticizes her for taking long bathroom breaks, the first intense emotional scene unfolds in the office. She stands amidst the crowd, declaring, “There are no restrooms for colored people in this building or any nearby. I can’t ride a bicycle, my uniform must be below the knee, and I can only wear a single strand of pearls—no, I don’t own pearls, your pay doesn’t afford them. I work like a dog, staying awake with coffee you won’t touch.”
After being expelled from a library for trying to buy a book, Dorothy calmly tells her children on the bus that just because something exists doesn’t mean it’s right.
Mary, hindered by racial barriers from becoming an engineer, chooses to confront the judge in court.
Ultimately, through sincerity, effort, and outstanding talent, they earn recognition: Katherine’s boss removes the “colored women’s restroom” sign, a prejudiced male colleague brings her coffee, and a female colleague gifts her a pearl necklace. There’s no overwrought sorrow or accusations, just a powerful resolution through personal merit and value.
This film by a white director about Black life received five Oscar nominations, winning Best Adapted Screenplay. The protagonist Monk, a university professor and writer, leads a respectable life above the middle class. At the start, he candidly discusses Black literature in class, offending a white female student and resulting in his forced leave of absence.
Conversely, a well-educated Black woman’s book, depicting stereotypical Black hardships to cater to white audiences, receives widespread acclaim with sensational statements.
Monk knows what content grabs attention—tragic stories of Black youths killed by police, or single mothers raising five kids in the ghetto—but he refuses to compromise.
The story, elegantly yet sarcastically, dances between absurdity and family drama. Unlike the previous two films, which rely on strong plots and core values, this film offers a fresh, artistic touch in its empty shots, like sharp cynics revealing hidden romance.
Today, Black teachers can stand in classrooms and teach. During my recent studies abroad, I experienced diverse cultures on subways, buses, and in classrooms, with students of different skin colors and teachers with unique English accents. Real life seems open and diverse. However, *American Fiction* poignantly and intelligently highlights another kind of predicament beneath this apparent diversity, the harm stereotypes cause to art. The story is small yet beautiful, sharp and elegant.
Though consciousness evolves, some understand the purity. Skin color won’t change, but names need recognition in the spotlight.
He is not just the captain; he is Seydou.
They are not just hidden figures; they are Katherine, Dorothy, and Mary.
He is not just Leigh; he is Monk.