Seeing a movie opening weekend is always a special treat. The anticipation and the excitement are at an all time high. You know you’re about to go on an adventure unlike any other. And you want others to join you on the adventure. That’s how I felt all week as I counted down the days for the opening of Black Panther. Although I was spending all my time in my husband’s ICU hospital room at Ronald Reagan UCLA Medical Center in Westwood, I knew I had to leave Westwood for Wakanda.
Ah Wakanda. Just in case you’re in that small number of people who have no idea what Wakanda is, allow me to enlighten you. Wakanda is a fictional African nation appearing in American comic books published by Marvel Comics. It is the most prominent of several fictional native African nations in the Marvel Universe and home to the superhero Black Panther. Technologically advanced and self-sufficient, Wakanda represents and celebrates everything from traditional African society to African-American political debates, from the preservation of identity to the strength and beauty of black women, all within its lush confines.
The women of Wakanda are beautiful and their sex appeal is obvious but secondary to their personality and skill. They are strategic opponents in battle, saving the life of Black Panther several times. They are entrusted with protecting the nation. They do not need to be rescued or sustained by men. The women are graceful and determined, confident and supportive.
I loved watching the women interact with the men. I witnessed an exchange of mutual respect and true partnership. Each one wanting the other to reach the highest evolution of their selfhood. Relationships where the two individuals are independently successful and mutually supportive are the best.
Although it’s next to impossible to get me to leave my husband’s side in the hospital, I’m glad I journeyed to the utopia that is Wakanda, even if it was only for two hours and fifteen minutes. I plan on visiting again, next time with my healed husband.