CHAPTER 10: CELEBRATING WHAT
WE DON’T UNDERSTAND

C:   When we were dating, Adaeze spent about three weeks hyping something up like it was going to completely change my life. I knew that if our relationship was going to stand a chance, it was imperative that I take part in this. And what was this huge event?

The release of Beyoncé’s Black Is King on Disney+.

I had seen the banner advertising it when we pulled up a Marvel movie, but I had no clue what it was about or why it was such a big deal. Adaeze’s zeal, however, made it clear that whatever it was, it was important for me to be part of it with her.

That fateful evening, we sat down on the couch, ready for the spectacle to begin. The film opens with Beyoncé walking along a beach in a flowy white dress with some music playing behind her. I quickly realized that this was basically an hour-and-a-half-long music video for the album she had just released. To be honest, I was a little disappointed. I thought it was going to have something to do with The Lion King.

A:   It did!

C:   [Eye roll] Or I thought maybe it would be an exposé on Beyoncé’s life behind the scenes while making the album—something like that. No. This was an extended celebration of the art of Beyoncé’s music. It had a ton of dancing that seemed strange to me, and some blue dude was sporadically running around, which I never fully understood. I think there was even a baby floating in the clouds at one point—I don’t know. I was completely lost, but I knew Adaeze was having the time of her life. So I took it all in.

We had ordered some food to eat during the show. Within fifteen minutes, I was finished, but Adaeze hadn’t even touched hers.

A:   I had too touched my food!

C:   Let me tell you something about my wife. She eats in very small bites, and when she’s thinking hard about something, she will take one bite about every twenty minutes.

A:   So, like I said, I had touched my food, thank you very much!

C:   So, like I said, she still had a whole plate in front of her. The reason I know this is because I leaned back, letting Adaeze’s couch swallow me, waiting for her to finish her food and lean back into me as usual. However, she was so locked into what was happening on the screen that she had no idea I had even leaned back. By the time she finally sat back and relaxed, the film had only about ten minutes left.

After it was over, I thought, Eh, I could take it or leave it.

But Adaeze refused to even speak until the last credit had rolled and the screen went back to the menu, at which point she turned to me and said emphatically, “That was amazing!”

I thought, Oh, crap. I’d better change my attitude a little bit. “Yeah . . . it was really good.”

A:   I thought it was such a beautiful expression of Black culture—celebrating some of our history, some of where we come from, and specifically Africa, the motherland. I remember having a little twinge in my spirit at the title, Black Is King, because I strongly and full-heartedly believe and know that Jesus is King . . .

C:   Amen!

A:   . . . and it felt a little idolatrous for Black culture, or anyone, to say that anyone besides Jesus is king. But I kind of, you know, scooted that aside for the sake of appreciating some art created by a Black woman that was being featured on Disney+. I’ve never seen a banner that big for something by a Black woman on any streaming service, so there were a lot of reasons to feel celebrated. But—peep game—there were some scenes in it that I thought were a little demonic-y.

(Full transparency: I don’t listen to Beyoncé anymore for my own personal and spiritual reasons. But at the time, I was full-on both a Beyoncé fan and a fan of this piece of art.)

I was so into it that I don’t think I was even aware that Chad wasn’t as engaged as I was . . .

C:   You had no clue.

A:   And I didn’t care—I was so enraptured by what we were watching. I loved the freedom being expressed through the people onscreen. Songs like “Brown Skin Girl” celebrated my skin in a way I’d never seen on a television screen. Literally every person on the screen was some beautiful shade of brown, from light caramel to almost the deepest black pearl. It was a special thing to behold (even if it was flawed because of certain artistic choices). And it was meaningful to experience it with Chad.

I’ll admit, I was today years old when I learned that he had to muster up his excited response! But it also makes me appreciate—even more—the heart of my husband. Once he realizes I’m excited about something, his typical response is “Oh, good to know!” and then he meets me there as best as he can.

That’s what it means to celebrate what we don’t understand. Chad didn’t totally understand the film in the moment or even later, after we had more discussions about why it meant so much to me. But the memory of enjoying that experience with him is forever seared in my mind. It didn’t even matter that he wasn’t as into it as me. What matters is that he was there with me, supporting me, even if it was through silent confusion.

C:   That time I got it right. That’s not to say I did anything special—I was just sitting there with Adaeze. Interestingly, the memory that sticks out for me is the look on Adaeze’s face after we watched it together. It was clear how much it meant that I had watched it with her, despite my lack of understanding of what the movie was all about. The big thing was she didn’t feel like I had judged anything or I was downplaying the beauty of what we’d just seen.

A:   Or making fun of it.

C:   Yeah, I just sat and watched it with her, and she felt celebrated simply because I was present.

THE FLIP SIDE

A:   Granted, being physically present with someone isn’t always all that’s needed for that someone to feel celebrated.

For example, to the utter displeasure of my musical taste, Chad loves Dave Matthews Band. He has been to . . . thirty shows?

C:   Seventeen . . .

A:   I love him anyway.

In 2020, Chad wanted to take me to the Gorge in Washington for back-to-back-to-back shows over all three days of Labor Day weekend. (That’s why it’s called “Labor Dave” weekend, in case you didn’t know—or care.)

I imagine it was the most granola event ever.

C:   Oh, it’s incredibly crunchy.

A:   However, because of COVID-19, it was canceled. So we had to make do with two back-to-back shows the following summer in Colorado.

I was well aware that I would probably be one of the few, if not the only, Black person there. I was also aware that my husband had made great memories at these shows over the years with his friends. So I genuinely wanted to go, just to be there for him. However, when Chad played me some of the band’s early music, I didn’t care for the lead man’s singing voice. I thought he sounded like Kermit the Frog. But even though the vocalist in me was unimpressed, the musician in me really appreciated the band and their talent.

C:   For the record, I would agree that Dave Matthews is not the best singer of all time, but his band is legitimately incredible.

A:   Hear, hear!

C:   Also, like a lot of white boys my age, I listened to a lot of Dave Matthews Band in college. So, yes, there’s sentimental value there, and I have a long history of listening to their music.

There, I feel fully defended.

A:   I agreed to go—and not begrudgingly. I was genuinely down to go with Chad. Never mind that it was on both a Friday and Saturday night, and because I was a worship pastor at the time, I had to get up very early for work on Sunday mornings. But a couple from my worship team was there too, and we sat with them both nights, which added an extra level of fun. It didn’t hurt that the husband of the couple was in the same shoes as me—not really a fan of Dave but there for his wife, who is as big of a fan as Chad is. It was nice to have some camaraderie in that.

C:   I am so proud. You know I made Adaeze into a fan because she called Dave by his first name. Only hard-core Dave fans call Dave Dave.

A:   Oh, ew.

And also, false. I am no such thing.

Anyway, the first night, as I stood there for hours with my husband, I was having a huge mental war. We were both enjoying the music, but there were some very rude people around us puffing smoke close to our faces. Plus, we were on a hill, and standing on an incline for hours on end got pretty uncomfortable. But my husband wanted to stand the entire evening, so I wanted to stand with him. (Spoiler alert: the second night, I had to sit down, and I fell asleep with my head resting on my knees.)

I felt very alone in that crowd, but I also knew I wasn’t there for me. I tried to put on a good face for my husband, but I didn’t do the best job of making him feel celebrated that night.

C:   I was definitely aware that Adaeze was not loving it and that she was a little uncomfortable. I also knew that she was thinking about having to get up early the next morning. Of course, I really wanted her to have a great time, but the fact that she went with me to both shows meant so much. That was really all I needed.

Will I go to more Dave Matthews Band concerts? Very likely yes.

Will my wife? Very likely no. And I’m okay with that.

I just wanted her to be with me for at least one and give it a try. (Okay, I took her to two back-to-back nights, but that’s part of the experience!) Even though she wasn’t in perfect spirits about the whole thing, I love that we have that memory.

By the way, if it feels like we’re hyper-focusing on times when Adaeze doesn’t feel seen or celebrated, the reality is that white people generally are seen and celebrated in American culture, and I don’t think it’s a stretch to say that’s true in Western culture in general. So I can feel seen and celebrated at any given moment. However, if Adaeze doesn’t feel seen or celebrated when there is a victory in Black culture (like the Beyoncé movie), then I missed an opportunity.

For the record, I took her to another white-boy show that summer, and she rocked her face off for two straight hours.

A:   COLONY HOOOOOUSE!!!!!!

C:   See? She can get into white-boy music. Dave Matthews just isn’t her thing.

C & A:   These may seem like silly examples, and admittedly they kind of are, but they show how much it means when you make an effort to celebrate something you may not fully understand—or even like—with a friend of a different race. Sometimes that’s what being supportive looks like.

Yes, we’re talking about this from a racial reconciliation frame of reference, but really it applies to anyone. You don’t have to love the thing as much as the other person does. Simply putting in the effort goes a long way.

Celebrating what someone else loves really has nothing to do with what we personally like. It’s about asking ourselves how we would want to be celebrated if the situation were flipped. Yes, we might be uncomfortable. However, we might also learn something.

Stepping into interracial relationships of any kind involves going outside what you believe is normal—what revolves around you—and entering someone else’s reality.

This is why it’s also good to talk about experiences we don’t understand (like asking Adaeze what she loved so much about the Beyoncé film or asking Chad about the memories he and his friends had made at other DMB concerts). If you never ask questions or talk about what you don’t understand, you’ll never learn, the other person won’t feel celebrated, and we’ll never make any progress.

To quote Dave Matthews, “Don’t rob yourself of all that you could be.” (We’ll just let you guess which one of us thought to include that.)

A lot of times, we stay away from what we don’t understand because we’re afraid of not doing it right, not understanding it right, or not showing up right—especially when it comes to interracial relationships. However, when we approach what we don’t understand with love, we can be humble enough to listen, be corrected, and see the other person for who they are.

The good news is we don’t have to be afraid. As 1 John 4:18 says, “There is no fear in love.” Love drives away the fear that sometimes debilitates us—the same fear that keeps us from trying. It’s not that we’ll get it perfect just because we love the other person. We’re still going to step in it from time to time. After all, we’re human.

But if we’re following Jesus’ lead, we will learn to love each other and really lean in to see the depths in one another. We will pray for each other and love each other even when someone is not “our own people.”

In 1 Peter 3:8, it says, “Be like-minded, be sympathetic, love one another, be compassionate and humble.” The easiest way to support somebody we don’t fully understand or are nervous about approaching is to follow that verse.

Love one another.

Be sympathetic.

And being like-minded doesn’t mean uniformity or agreement about everything but that we try to see things from others’ points of view.

If we do those things, we can turn a potentially incendiary conversation on its head.

But if we’re failing at making people feel loved, at some point, we gotta start over. How? First, by looking inward and making sure our motives are pure, not selfish. Then, by listening, which includes admitting we don’t know everything—nor do we understand everything—and realizing it’s okay to learn and grow together.

If we love each other honestly and genuinely, we will naturally exude humility and compassion. Those are disarming traits to have—especially when someone’s blowing smoke in your face at a Dave Mathews Band concert.