So about a few weeks ago, I made this long post about my thoughts on this notion of 28 days on black cosplay. Many people asked me why I spoke about it. Simple really… Noone else would. I knew that right after I opened my mouth and kicked over that wasp nest that there would be people who would respond, not in a good way. I am thankful that people of all races and creeds agreed with what I said. I also discovered that there were other black cosplayers out there who felt the same way as I did. But that isn’t why I’m writing this. Let me tell you what happened when I met and sat down with Harry… Or as I like to call him, Black Panther.
Thursday night at Katsucon, we sat down for about an hour and talked. And by talked, it me mostly listening to him. That wasn’t a bad thing. I have been told to respect my elders, and after all he is the generation before me. The long and short of the story is that he was right and I was wrong. Harry felt that the people who agreed with me that weren’t black didn’t count, and the people that were black were lying to themselves.
That’s kinda rough.
But also, this conversation would lead to an end to a “friendship” a few weeks later. That was also a blessing in disguise.
I did my absolute best to understand his point. But it was insulting that he could not understand mine. He felt that because I understood his views, that I should fully agree with him, which I didn’t. And I did write about understanding and agreeing doesn’t always go hand in hand here.
In the long run, we were civil to each other. Neither one of us came to an agreeable conclusion, so, c’est la vie.