By Marcus Brown
The film The Birth of a Nation, which chronicles the slave uprising led by Nat Turner in 1831, broke records after the rights were purchased by Fox Searchlight at the Sundance Festival for a staggering “$17.5 million.” The film could be seen as a monumental victory for Nate Parker, who stars in the film as Nat Turner in addition to producing, directing, and writing the film, but recent controversy surrounding Parker’s rape accusation from his college days threatens to overshadow the successful film. More than that, it spawns complex questions of delineation of artist and creation as well as the inescapable precariousness that comes with the success of any black man.
While attending Penn State in 1999, Parker and Jean Celestin, who also contributed to the writing of The Birth of a Nation, were accused of raping a white female student. Parker escaped criminal charges largely because of an establishment of a difference between unconsciousness and severe intoxication without full cognizance and that Parker and the victim had engaged in sexual acts prior to the alleged rape. Celestin, however, was convicted but later appealed, resulting in a dismissal of his case. It has been reported that the woman the case surrounds committed suicide in 2012
My initial thought is to have no sympathy for an accused rapist and certainly none for a convicted one. At the same time, I can understand the logic behind arguments in support of Parker or at the very least the voices that tacitly condone Parker’s alleged actions. It was only so long ago that a black man could be strung up from tree, burned and mutilated, for merely looking at a white woman the wrong way, and it’s possible to say that time still has not truly passed. It wouldn’t be difficult for me to begin rationalizing, little by little, begin making peace with the narrative of the successful black man being dragged down by white America just as he nears the summit of true success. I could look to Parker’s wife and five daughters. I could say this is a man who made a mistake, and that one poor decision should not be used to diminish the potential legacy of a prominent black man. Dr. Dre and Terrence Howard used to beat women, and it seems like we have by and large given them a pass for that, so what’s more name to add to that list?
The more one tries to grapple with the vast confluence of factors surrounding Parker’s alleged rape, the easier it becomes to excuse it. The history embedded in even the mere accusation of a black man raping a white woman is so multilayered and coupled with the obvious symbolism that could be drawn from the nature of the Parker’s film it makes my head spin. For this reason, I submit to the logic of Occam’s razor. It’s not that deep. Rape is horrible, and I won’t allow myself to feel sympathy or falter in my moral judgment simply because I can identify with the accused. The life of a black man in America is inherently precarious, and if no one told Parker this, then he was done a true disservice. Simply because there is some degree of validity to arguments favoring Parker and the acknowledgment of the stacked deck levied at any black man attempting to do something substantial does not mean I must feel compelled to abandon my principles. The two are not mutually exclusive. You can be aware of history and the prevalence of character assassination when it comes to black men and still choose not to condone the actions of an alleged rapist.