The Cosby Reckoning

Big ticket issues that have be sorted about the Jell-O Pudding pitchman/serial rapist

Watching W. Kamau Bell’s devastating docuseries We Need To Talk About Cosby concluded last night on Showtime was an exercise in painful but necessary reflection.

It was a well-written, excellently conceived piece that serves as a stark reminder of three societal pain points:

·         How hard it is to see cultural heroes fall to ruin

·         The difficulty of Black society to admit that their heroes are flawed and faulty

·         The inability of men to believe women when they tell their stories of assault and abuse

In the span of 50 years, Bill Cosby went from being a struggling standup comedian to becoming one of the most beloved and respected performers in entertainment history and on to the place he occupies currently, a general pariah universally shunned because of sixty allegations of sexual assault over that same 50 year period.

By the time that these accusations caught fire and burned down his career, Cosby had also transitioned perceptually from a lovable, mischievous comedian/comic actor to a bitter, irascible arbiter of Black society. In the last few years of his public platform, he began launching endless screeds judging most Black people as lacking in morals, education, and common sense.

In what seemed like the blink of an eye, he has gone from being the fun-loving Jell-O spokesperson to the Negro equivalent of Oscar The Grouch, launching full-throated get-off-of-my lawn invective better suited from a Boondocks character than someone who used to be cultural supporter and defender.

Even though Cosby had lost much of his previous luster in the eyes of Black society, it was still a leap to view him as a sexual predator. The same defense mechanism that came to O.J. Simpson and Michael Jackson’s defense came through again on behalf of the vaunted entertainer. “Not Bill Cosby?!” we said. “He couldn’t have done those things?” we cried.

When the allegations reached the dozens, Cosby still had his defenders, but they became fewer and fewer, until the only voices vociferously speaking up for him were his family members.

Black heroes are hard won and harder still to topple. We have been allowed so few men and women to be admired in both Black and White society that we will fight with all our vigor when their reputations, gained at considerable cost, are at risk.

Our protection toward the perceived victim of slander and libel is trenchant, as our dislike and disdain for those who accuse them of wrongdoing. Even if the person seems removed from Black society (O.J.) or seems to no longer value being a part of the community (Cosby), Black people will defend our public figures with our last breath.

This is because not only is the White faith in a Black public figure hard won, but it is also hard to achieve in the Black community. Like anyone else, we have our favorites and non-favorite sports starts, actors, singers, and comedians. Like anyone else, our tastes vary.

It takes a unique individual to be as lauded and applauded as Cosby was to Black people, but he accomplished it by being first portraying characters who were funny and respectable, humorous but not caricature. His portrayal and subsequent Emmy Awards for playing Alexander Scott on I-Spy was unlike any Black character that had been on television up to that point.

Next, he furthered endeared himself to the Black community when he created and starred in the Fat Albert and The Cosby Kids cartoon series. For the first time, Black kids saw kids that looked and sounded like them. Moral lessons were drawn and ingested.

When Cosby created and starred in The Cosby Show, its success ushered in a new era of acceptance and visibility for Black entertainment. It now seemed acceptable for Black people to play doctors and professional people instead of the usual domestic workers and criminals.

Given his positive achievements, it has been difficult for Black people to believe the allegations against Cosby. We have had to go through the Kubler-Ross grief cycle, and we have finally made it to the acceptance stage.

The final indictment in this saga goes against men of all color, and that is the inability we demonstrate in not believing women when they make allegations against men.

It is true that in the Black community this is a thorny issue due to the centuries of lies told against Black men by White women that have led to the most abominable behavior by White men. The fact that many of Cosby’s early accusers were White women help to harden the disbelief of both Black men and women.

But it is just as true that men are often disbelieving of women when they report sexual assault, regardless of race or ethnicity. While there has been progress made on this front, the burden of proof carried by women in this regard is unreasonable and unfair.

Given the societal and personal stigma and shame wrongfully attached to sexual assault victims, it is unimaginably difficult in most cases for women to come forward and make an allegation.

The very least we can do is provide a safe, nonjudgmental space for them to be heard, and do everything we can as a society to make the legal process more compassionate and empathetic.

The last thing these women need is to be victim-shamed and harassed. We would not stand for it if it were our mothers, sisters, daughters, wives, and significant others in that situation.

How difficult is it to extend that compassion to all women?

When we indeed discuss Bill Cosby, his life is providing object lessons that must be taken to heart both inside and outside of the Black community.

Watching W. Kamau Bell’s devastating docuseries We Need To Talk About Cosby concluded last night on Showtime was an exercise in painful but necessary reflection.

It was a well-written, excellently conceived piece that serves as a stark reminder of three societal pain points:

·         How hard it is to see cultural heroes fall to ruin

·         The difficulty of Black society to admit that their heroes are flawed and faulty

·         The inability of men to believe women when they tell their stories of assault and abuse

In the span of 50 years, Bill Cosby went from being a struggling standup comedian to becoming one of the most beloved and respected performers in entertainment history and on to the place he occupies currently, a general pariah universally shunned because of sixty allegations of sexual assault over that same 50 year period.

By the time that these accusations caught fire and burned down his career, Cosby had also transitioned perceptually from a lovable, mischievous comedian/comic actor to a bitter, irascible arbiter of Black society. In the last few years of his public platform, he began launching endless screeds judging most Black people as lacking in morals, education, and common sense.

In what seemed like the blink of an eye, he has gone from being the fun-loving Jell-O spokesperson to the Negro equivalent of Oscar The Grouch, launching full-throated get-off-of-my lawn invective better suited from a Boondocks character than someone who used to be cultural supporter and defender.

Even though Cosby had lost much of his previous luster in the eyes of Black society, it was still a leap to view him as a sexual predator. The same defense mechanism that came to O.J. Simpson and Michael Jackson’s defense came through again on behalf of the vaunted entertainer. “Not Bill Cosby?!” we said. “He couldn’t have done those things?” we cried.

When the allegations reached the dozens, Cosby still had his defenders, but they became fewer and fewer, until the only voices vociferously speaking up for him were his family members.

Black heroes are hard won and harder still to topple. We have been allowed so few men and women to be admired in both Black and White society that we will fight with all our vigor when their reputations, gained at considerable cost, are at risk.

Our protection toward the perceived victim of slander and libel is trenchant, as our dislike and disdain for those who accuse them of wrongdoing. Even if the person seems removed from Black society (O.J.) or seems to no longer value being a part of the community (Cosby), Black people will defend our public figures with our last breath.

This is because not only is the White faith in a Black public figure hard won, but it is also hard to achieve in the Black community. Like anyone else, we have our favorites and non-favorite sports starts, actors, singers, and comedians. Like anyone else, our tastes vary.

It takes a unique individual to be as lauded and applauded as Cosby was to Black people, but he accomplished it by being first portraying characters who were funny and respectable, humorous but not caricature. His portrayal and subsequent Emmy Awards for playing Alexander Scott on I-Spy was unlike any Black character that had been on television up to that point.

Next, he furthered endeared himself to the Black community when he created and starred in the Fat Albert and The Cosby Kids cartoon series. For the first time, Black kids saw kids that looked and sounded like them. Moral lessons were drawn and ingested.

When Cosby created and starred in The Cosby Show, its success ushered in a new era of acceptance and visibility for Black entertainment. It now seemed acceptable for Black people to play doctors and professional people instead of the usual domestic workers and criminals.

Given his positive achievements, it has been difficult for Black people to believe the allegations against Cosby. We have had to go through the Kubler-Ross grief cycle, and we have finally made it to the acceptance stage.

The final indictment in this saga goes against men of all color, and that is the inability we demonstrate in not believing women when they make allegations against men.

It is true that in the Black community this is a thorny issue due to the centuries of lies told against Black men by White women that have led to the most abominable behavior by White men. The fact that many of Cosby’s early accusers were White women help to harden the disbelief of both Black men and women.

But it is just as true that men are often disbelieving of women when they report sexual assault, regardless of race or ethnicity. While there has been progress made on this front, the burden of proof carried by women in this regard is unreasonable and unfair.

Given the societal and personal stigma and shame wrongfully attached to sexual assault victims, it is unimaginably difficult in most cases for women to come forward and make an allegation.

The very least we can do is provide a safe, nonjudgmental space for them to be heard, and do everything we can as a society to make the legal process more compassionate and empathetic.

The last thing these women need is to be victim-shamed and harassed. We would not stand for it if it were our mothers, sisters, daughters, wives, and significant others in that situation.

How difficult is it to extend that compassion to all women?

When we indeed discuss Bill Cosby, his life is providing object lessons that must be taken to heart both inside and outside of the Black community.