Hamilton, History Lessons, & Allowing Space for Joy
Like a large part of those who have DisneyPlus, my family decided to watch the musical Hamilton over the weekend. Not really being exposed to the theatre, I knew OF Hamilton: The Broadway Musical. I knew it was expensive, hard to get tickets for pre-Covid, and was a re-imagining of the life of Alexander Hamilton.
That was it.
That was all I knew.
Sitting on the couch with my family as the first song played, I realized something else.
History lessons traumatized me.
From my middle school teacher attempting to explain to Black students that we should be “grateful” to slavery because we were doing so much better than the Africans still left on the continent
To the failure to fully explore how our “admiration” for certain parts of the Melanin Color Spectrum was the adding of value to rape-colored skin (term borrowed from a recent article I read)
To the tendency to minimize the accomplishments of my community and the systemic racism that has kept us oppressed
I could not watch Hamilton without thinking about how the real George Washington had the teeth pulled from slaves to make his teeth
Or to cringe when the throw-away line about Sally Hemmings rolled off of the tongue of a Prince Roger Nelsonesque version of her rapist Thomas Jefferson
Or the minimization of Hamilton’s investment in also viewing Black people as less-than-human — — -as he ironically argued about “freedom”
My mind would not let me fully enjoy the creativity of the rap battles
Or the references to hip hop lyrics
My experiences with the world romanticizing our enslavement
And minimizing the ongoing reality of racism and oppression
Are triggers for me
As I try desperately to navigate the non-musical world that Hamilton, Jefferson, Madison, and Washington created that did not include my humanity
When my children insisted on watching it for the third time, I could not hold my peace
I began talking about the true history of this country’s Founding Oppressors
My oldest stopped me and stated “I know they enslaved our ancestors. I know the real people upon who this were based were not good people. Yet, it does not keep me from enjoying the musical. I can find joy in the songs and still be mad about the history behind it.”
I envied her.
I admired her
I was in awe of her claiming her space of happiness while not forgetting the horrible truth on which the story was built
That was when I realized my struggle.
Something in me did not permit this separation
To find beauty in the music, the costumes, the seeing of a stage full of Black faces who were in prominent roles
Instead, I could only focus on the inhumanity of the people the play was humanizing.
I could not exist in that space that my daughter was inhabiting
That place of knowing the true history and suspended it for a moment so she could find her joy.
Will I watch it again? Probably not.
Will I work diligently to not permit history or even the current climate of racism and “Make America Great Again” oppression keep me from searching for and finding my joy?
Yes, because “I’m not gonna miss my shot”
#HamilFilm #Hamilton #BlackGirlJoy
Dr. Dent is a licensed psychologist. Her hardest job is being a Black Woman who centers the experiences of Black women and girls — -yet, in this work, she finds #BlackGirlJoy
