The girls and have been watching Queer Eye on Netflix, a reboot of the Bravo channel show Queer Eye for the Straight Guy. It is *highly* entertaining — and surprisingly moving.
These five gay men meet the men they are making over exactly where they are, with no judgement, and with nothing but encouragement and love.
They are better people than I, without question.
We watched Episode 3 last night. Titled “Dega Don’t”, it sends the guys to an Atlanta cop’s house to get him cleaned up, dressed up, and out for a date night with his wife and daughters.
Karamo, who is the culture guy, is a black man. At one point in the show, he and Cory, the cop, are riding somewhere in the car, and they start having a conversation. A real conversation. About black men and cops, about stereotypes, about the deep divides in this country.
And here’s the thing: They really listen to each other. You can see it. Cory is turned toward Karamo, and he doesn’t jump into the conversation. He doesn’t look like he’s thinking, “When is it my turn to speak?” And Karamo opens up to Cory. He admits he started off the makeover totally closed off to Cory — gay black man, white cop? In his words: “Nah.”
But instead of becoming more entrenched in their positions, they have a dialogue. Cory says he hates when police use unnecessary and deadly force, too, that it is especially problematic when it’s a white cop and black person. He doesn’t defend himself or people in his profession; he doesn’t justify the murder of unarmed black men. And Karamo is moved. They talk about their upbringing, and find out they have a lot in common. And by the end of the conversation, Cory says something to the effect of: I know that it’s going to take a lot more than two guys in a car, but if more people would talk about this, if more people would listen about this, it would be a big move toward uniting this country.
It gave me a lot to think about. Because I completely understand that I am part of the problem. I don’t know that I can overcome it when it comes to the political divide. I don’t know if I could open up and truly listen to a Trump voter: where they are, where they come from. I have a huge problem with our current administration.
I don’t know how we get back to being open and truly listening to each other, instead of shouting one another down. (Social media is no good for listening in general. There are rare exceptions.)
Maybe we admit, like Karamo does, like Cory does, “This is wrong.” Maybe we admit we are vulnerable and scared, and after that, find a way forward together.
But I don’t know how to make it happen. There are people I don’t talk to because I don’t trust them with my vulnerability, and I don’t trust them to listen to and hear me. It’s like writing to my representatives, and either getting a long letter full of GOP talking points — or, worse, being scorned and dismissed. I don’t want to take the risk.
Maybe more people need to listen to the cultural messages that exist out there in our pop culture — I am thinking specifically of the first post-credit scene in Black Panther, as well as the message the Fab Five give us each episode — maybe those kind of things are what we need to hear. Maybe there is common ground — hope? — from which we can step toward a prosperous and successful future together, rather than divided.
1 Kings 19:11-13 King James Version (KJV)
11 And he said, Go forth, and stand upon the mount before the Lord. And, behold, the Lord passed by, and a great and strong wind rent the mountains, and brake in pieces the rocks before the Lord; but the Lord was not in the wind: and after the wind an earthquake; but the Lord was not in the earthquake:
12 And after the earthquake a fire; but the Lord was not in the fire: and after the fire a still small voice.
13 And it was so, when Elijah heard it, that he wrapped his face in his mantle, and went out, and stood in the entering in of the cave.
Maybe we all need to be a lot more quiet, so we can hear.