Empire is the new Fox Network program that has America buzzing and its not hard to see why. The show has drama, wit and comedy developed in smart and interesting ways. Whatismore, the stars of the show and most of the cast are Black Americans. However, these narratives aren't new. On one hand, is a nation of viewers who are mesmerized by a group of people making bold and brash choices for their lives that the viewers themselves would never consider. On the other, is a population who have made and lived such bold and brash choices – and deal with the fallout. In this way, Empire has tapped into a special place in American society and goes deeper with every episode. This national phenomenon has started forcing me to deal with certain parts of my life of which I am not proud. Empire is telling my story. At least part of it.
I was born and raised under non-traditional circumstances (and no I am not going on a rant here of how “tradition” has tainted families in the U.S.). As a baby, my father was imprisoned and that was that. I grew up in Baltimore City, MD with a single mother and loving family, but also with the knowledge that my father was in prison. As a child, this seemed to be of little consequence. However, many times I was fed disparaging tidbits about my father from my mother and fed the trope that only bad men go to prison. I was in middle school by the time my father was released from prison and even at such a young age I was certain – I did not want to see my father. Why would I want to see or spend time with a man who my mother deemed less than dependable (much less delicate language was used) and who had served time in prison? What could he have to offer me to improve my life? What would I want with a jailbird? In all of these queries I see Hakeem Lyon struggling to make meaning of Cookie's return. So, I just said, “No”.
It's funny to consider the notion that a Fox TV show could tap into one of the darkest places in my soul that I can't even face. Somehow Empire is getting into that space in my being that remembers the hurt that I felt. That I still feel. Many may see Hakeem as a spoiled brat who is disrespecting his mother, but what they fail to understand is that he is pained by something far deeper than the dismissal of familial norms. Hakeem is me at his age and a part of him is still with me. One cannot begin to fathom the thought that one's imprisoned parent is returning after over a decade of living just fine without him/her. How abandoned I felt by my father, but at the same time never missing him. Empire is beautifully exploring this place in ways that have me in emotional despair over the nature of my current relationship with my father.
It's only been about 5 years since my father came back into my life. One day my mother told me that she have found him through Facebook. I was quite surprised because at 23 I hadn't given much thought to my father. I certainly did not expect him to just show up. My mother said that he wanted to connect with me. I was shocked and curious. So I said, “Yes” this time. Fast forward a few days and I am meandering around my apartment on the phone with my father. I was on the phone with my father for the first time in my life that I could actually remember. And I was nervous. Anxious, excited and breathy. I can still feel my shallow breathing. I tried to trip him up and see if he would falter, so I mentioned that I was dating a man. Without missing a beat he was engaged and asking questions. He was thoughtful and interested in my life. This was not the despise-worthy man that my mother had mentioned. This was not the degenerate that society inform me that all inmates are. Here was my father.
Just as quickly as I was excited, I was just as quickly melancholic. Not understanding how I was supposed to relate to this man. A man who is part of the reason for my existence. At the same time, had I passed him on the street, I wouldn't have recognized him. How am I supposed to relate to man that I don't know? This is the place that I am at now in my life. I want to know who he is, but I am terrified that with every brick between us that is knocked aside, I will see a picture of a man I don't like.
It was easy when he was in jail, because I could create an image of him in any light I wanted. Now I am being confronted by his personhood and not being sure that I want to know the full man. This is not to say that my father is a bad man, but it is to say that being confronted with this reality is difficult. It is easy to see how at 18 years old, I might have had a violent relationship with my father. At that age, most of us are unable to manage those feelings in a productive way. It can be taxing, to say the least, when an absent parent is suddenly a part of your life.
I'm thankful to my father for waiting and letting me come to him when I was ready. He had his arms open for years until I was ready. I appreciate that. I want to understand what it was like for him for all of these years. Just as my own emotions have been varied, I can't begin to imagine what it felt like as a parent to be rejected by your child. I know that I have hurt my father and I carry guilt for that. However, I also struggle with the concept of even beginning to approach the gulf between us. I want to be able to cook with my father. Cooking has been a big part of my life for years and I suspect that I received this affinity from my father. I want to look at his face and not be frightened by the similarities. At 28, I want to know my father. I fight with myself many days on this subject. It is always present and difficult for me to address.
But now that my father is a part of my life, I must figure out how to navigate this relationship. I want to have good relationship with my father. I want to know him for the man that he is. And I also know the barriers between us. I want to get past this and get to know him. The question is How? Enter Empire.
I was born and raised under non-traditional circumstances (and no I am not going on a rant here of how “tradition” has tainted families in the U.S.). As a baby, my father was imprisoned and that was that. I grew up in Baltimore City, MD with a single mother and loving family, but also with the knowledge that my father was in prison. As a child, this seemed to be of little consequence. However, many times I was fed disparaging tidbits about my father from my mother and fed the trope that only bad men go to prison. I was in middle school by the time my father was released from prison and even at such a young age I was certain – I did not want to see my father. Why would I want to see or spend time with a man who my mother deemed less than dependable (much less delicate language was used) and who had served time in prison? What could he have to offer me to improve my life? What would I want with a jailbird? In all of these queries I see Hakeem Lyon struggling to make meaning of Cookie's return. So, I just said, “No”.
It's funny to consider the notion that a Fox TV show could tap into one of the darkest places in my soul that I can't even face. Somehow Empire is getting into that space in my being that remembers the hurt that I felt. That I still feel. Many may see Hakeem as a spoiled brat who is disrespecting his mother, but what they fail to understand is that he is pained by something far deeper than the dismissal of familial norms. Hakeem is me at his age and a part of him is still with me. One cannot begin to fathom the thought that one's imprisoned parent is returning after over a decade of living just fine without him/her. How abandoned I felt by my father, but at the same time never missing him. Empire is beautifully exploring this place in ways that have me in emotional despair over the nature of my current relationship with my father.
It's only been about 5 years since my father came back into my life. One day my mother told me that she have found him through Facebook. I was quite surprised because at 23 I hadn't given much thought to my father. I certainly did not expect him to just show up. My mother said that he wanted to connect with me. I was shocked and curious. So I said, “Yes” this time. Fast forward a few days and I am meandering around my apartment on the phone with my father. I was on the phone with my father for the first time in my life that I could actually remember. And I was nervous. Anxious, excited and breathy. I can still feel my shallow breathing. I tried to trip him up and see if he would falter, so I mentioned that I was dating a man. Without missing a beat he was engaged and asking questions. He was thoughtful and interested in my life. This was not the despise-worthy man that my mother had mentioned. This was not the degenerate that society inform me that all inmates are. Here was my father.
Just as quickly as I was excited, I was just as quickly melancholic. Not understanding how I was supposed to relate to this man. A man who is part of the reason for my existence. At the same time, had I passed him on the street, I wouldn't have recognized him. How am I supposed to relate to man that I don't know? This is the place that I am at now in my life. I want to know who he is, but I am terrified that with every brick between us that is knocked aside, I will see a picture of a man I don't like.
It was easy when he was in jail, because I could create an image of him in any light I wanted. Now I am being confronted by his personhood and not being sure that I want to know the full man. This is not to say that my father is a bad man, but it is to say that being confronted with this reality is difficult. It is easy to see how at 18 years old, I might have had a violent relationship with my father. At that age, most of us are unable to manage those feelings in a productive way. It can be taxing, to say the least, when an absent parent is suddenly a part of your life.
I'm thankful to my father for waiting and letting me come to him when I was ready. He had his arms open for years until I was ready. I appreciate that. I want to understand what it was like for him for all of these years. Just as my own emotions have been varied, I can't begin to imagine what it felt like as a parent to be rejected by your child. I know that I have hurt my father and I carry guilt for that. However, I also struggle with the concept of even beginning to approach the gulf between us. I want to be able to cook with my father. Cooking has been a big part of my life for years and I suspect that I received this affinity from my father. I want to look at his face and not be frightened by the similarities. At 28, I want to know my father. I fight with myself many days on this subject. It is always present and difficult for me to address.
But now that my father is a part of my life, I must figure out how to navigate this relationship. I want to have good relationship with my father. I want to know him for the man that he is. And I also know the barriers between us. I want to get past this and get to know him. The question is How? Enter Empire.