Reflections on "You did it my nigga"

No he didn’t!

Larry Wilmore ended his comedy routine with “Barry, you did it my nigga.”

My first reaction may surprise you. I cheered on the inside. You know, I couldn’t be to loud with my shout because I knew the nigga police might be listening.  

They wouldn’t understand my inner praise.

I knew white people would condemn the moment because it’s something they can’t say.  They are fully aware of what happens when they say what black folks nurtured in the culture that affirms “you my nigga” say freely.  They know not to cross that boundary, no matter how much they know about life on the black side.

Dread locs, a T-shit with Malcolm X on the front, and a swag that screams hip-hop, fails to secure permission. Nigga please. Don’t go there and don’t even think about it!

But, disdain for that dreadful word isn’t limited to white people. Those old enough to remember being called that word are quick to remind people what hearing it conjures. Those memories are too deep to use the forbidden word. Nope. Not even when it avows a bond between two brothers who understand each other just because they understand each other.

It’s one of those things that many just can’t understand. It’s code for I got your back my nigga. It’s used to assert a love that’s deeper than everything that stands in the way.

It’s a language built from the context of the black experience. Yes, it comes with a troubling past, but it says something that no other word conveys. It defies logic. We shouldn’t use it. It’s disgusting due to how it is used by white people. It’s a reminder of over yonder in Dixie land when black folks dangled from trees like strange fruit.

There’s so many reason not to say it.

But, my nigga says something deep among those who have endured close to eight years of contempt of our nigga the President. That’s right, he’s legitimate black. Through and through like gold that has traveled through the fire. That word suggests enduring without compromise. Wilmore was saying we see you bruh. We know who you are, and we got you. You one of us, and, yeah, you did it my nigga.

You haven’t been tainted by your Ivy league education. No, we don’t agree with all your policy decisions. We have issues with your inability to impact change for black folks. We wish you would have done more, but we see you bruh. We know you may have wanted to do more, but we understand the pressures that comes with having to satisfy white people who can’t get past the fact that you are one of us.

“You did it my nigga,” wasn’t meant for the white folks in the room angry because of what they can’t say. It wasn’t meant for the people with ears plugged after failing to bury the word for the past 20 years. It wasn’t used to disrespect the office. I heard it as a statement regarding a level of respect that comes with witnessing Obama endure all of it.

Yes, all of it.

Yes, every bit of the attacks that come due to not being able to do enough. You did it my nigga even with a Congress and Senate committed to obstruct your agenda. You did it within a culture were hate is intensifying because of racism. Yes, my nigga, you did it even with vicious attacks from black people who want you to lead a charge promoting a pro-black agenda.

You are not perfect. Many are angry that you placed Sister Assata Shakur on the “Most Wanted List”. We deplore your use of drones to murder men and women around the world. I’m disgusted at how you have censured the press in ways that are the worse we have ever seen in America.  We wanted more to reduce black incarceration.

Oh, we want you to pardon our brother – Mumia Abul-Jamal. Get on that one before you leave office. Come on, keep it real Brother Obama.

Many despise how you attack young people in that paternalistic fashion that millennials can’t stand. These emerging leaders hate it when old folks tell them how to think and act. Your arms too short to box with God. Chill bruh.

You did it my nigga is a collective sigh. This thing is about to come to an end. It’s time to affirm what it all has meant for those who didn’t believe they would live to see a black President. We watched them post memes of you as a monkey. We listened to people compare you to Hitler. We listen as people call you the worse President in the history of the United States.

And, we’ve watched hate fuel the nomination of the man who started the birther movement. Are you kidding?

There’s more.

We read stories with comments attacking your daughters. All of this has happened, and we are sick of it. Brother Barack, we see you. We feel you. More than all of that, we are proud of you for enduring all of it with class.

You a bad man. You and Michelle have made us proud. No one has done it better.

How does one convey how it feels to have witnessed you serve our country? You’ve endured the deaths of Trayvon, Mike, Sandra, Freddie and, and there are too many to name. You had to take all of the corruption in police departments and the anger of white people trapped in the evil world of cognitive dissonance.

We see all of it.

So, how do we say it? How do we say it in a way that goes deeper – deeper than many can understand.

Let me think.

Yeah, you did it my nigga.