Racial Trauma & Police Brutality: Queen Sugar, Season 2
Photo: oprah.com
Warning! Spoilers ahead.
Queen Sugar is, in my opinion, one of the most complex and powerful shows on television - not to mention filled with beautiful cinematography and rich characters, helmed by the inimitable Ava Duvernay and shot by a talented lineup of female directors. Based on the novel by Natalie Baszile, this series tells the story of three siblings, leading very different lives, brought together by the death of their father and a drive to rebuild his sugarcane farm in rural Louisiana. It’s filled with pressing themes such as family and community, race relations in the South, and reckoning with our past to build a stronger future.
I’m writing this amidst national upheaval about racial pain and injustice, following protests over the deaths of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, and Ahmaud Arbery - and so many others, time and time again - at the hands of police and white supremacists. I knew Queen Sugar was a show I wanted to feature as soon as I started this Journal; after all we have witnessed over the past few weeks, I felt strongly about speaking more to themes of racial trauma, and so am sharing a depiction of police brutality in Season 2. Rather than focusing on just one episode, I’ll be touching on various moments from Season 2, Episodes 1-8, following the arc of this plotline.
In Episode 1, we see Micah - a young high schooler who straddles racial marginalization as a Black man and economic privilege as the son of a wealthy NBA star - stopped by a racist cop who suspects he stole the fancy sports car he’s driving (gifted to him by his father, Davis). As we know, Black motorists are far more likely than their Caucasian counterparts to be stopped, threatened, and killed by the police. We don’t see the whole encounter, but we do see the cop pull a gun on Micah as he tries to take out his registration, and later, we see Micah in handcuffs at the precinct office - a scared, traumatized child.
Ultimately, in Episode 1 he’s freed thanks to Davis swallowing his fear, anger, and panic to take selfies with star-struck cops in an effort to get them to release his son. It’s an enraging portrayal of how Black bodies are co opted for sport and entertainment by the same people who systematically brutalize and terrorize those very bodies. One of the most painful shots is seeing Micah at the end of the episode with stains on his pants from having wet himself - a not uncommon trauma response. The DSM 5 defines trauma as: “exposure to actual or threatened death, serious injury, or sexual violence” and it’s clear that, from the very moment Micah is pulled over, he fears death or injury.
Through the following episodes, we see the impact of this incident on Micah’s mother, Charley, who, usually always composed, is overcome with anxiety and tears when Micah leaves for school the next morning. We see the ache of his maternal aunt, Nova, whose advocacy work for criminal justice reform suddenly becomes all the more personal. We see his maternal uncle, Ralph Angel, grapple with his own incarceration history as he witnesses Micah’s pain. We see Micah continue to experience trauma responses such as: avoidance - refusing to talk about what happened and skipping a therapy appointment with his mother; hyperarousal - accidentally hitting his little cousin, Blue, who inadvertently sneaks up on him, in an effort to play together; and irritability - losing his cool several times as he deals with additional stress such as his parents’ divorce and adjusting to a new city / school. The trauma he experiences extends to those who love and care about him, and adds additional weight to their daily lives and stressors.
In Episode 8, after another bout of parent-teen conflict, Davis pleads to Micah: “I want my son back.” He shares that Micah seems like an entirely different person since the police situation. People who experience trauma often talk about a ‘before’ and ‘after’ experience, which can even be seen neurologically. Davis again implores Micah to divulge what exactly happened that night. When Micah finally shares details about the full encounter and the terror he experienced, it’s impossible as a viewer not to shake with horror and rage too. I won’t share the details here, in the hopes that those of you who haven’t yet seen this show will watch and find out for yourselves.
But it’s not all doom and gloom! The series beautifully depicts protective factors too; it’s not a given that everyone who experiences a traumatic event will experience mental illness, even if they have some trauma symptoms. Micah experiences moments of community and connection - two important aspects of healing. And, we see Micah constructively direct his energy into outlets such as activism and community development. Trauma causes feelings of anger, hopelessness, and powerlessness; channeling these reactions into experiences where we can reclaim our power and use our voice is an important aspect of healing.
It’s essential that I share an additional layer of trauma for Micah and his family: intergenerational trauma. Black Americans - along with other long persecuted groups such as Native Americans and Holocaust survivors - have been known to experience trauma from oppression that’s passed down genetically and environmentally. This is not to say that it’s inevitable these groups will experience trauma responses - and, in fact, with trauma also comes resilience, and there’s reason to surmise resilience may also be passed down through generations. Additionally, it’s dangerous to over pathologize these populations; anyone with significant family trauma history could experience intergenerational effects. But it’s important to acknowledge there’s often an additional layer of trauma stemming from systematic marginalization lingering below the surface, that science and history make impossible to deny. There are many powerful depictions of intergenerational trauma in Queen Sugar that I’ll save for another post. But my purpose in sharing this is: we must recognize that trauma doesn’t occur in isolation. It impacts those who didn’t experience the traumatic event, sometimes for generations to come. Healing as a nation and as individuals is key to breaking this cycle of trauma. Fighting oppression is about more than morals and ideals, it’s, quite literally, about physical and emotional health.
** A note about how the political is personal: I’ve never understood the phrase “don’t get political!” As a non Black woman of color, I can’t begin to understand what it’s like to experience these terrorizing police encounters first hand. But I do know that for many of us, especially Black Americans, “political” topics like police brutality and racism in the criminal justice system are exceedingly personal. For reference, Queen Sugar’s creator, Ava Duvernay, experienced police aggression throughout her childhood, in her own backyard amongst other places. If we label these topics as merely political, we miss how personal they are for so many.
To learn more about systemic racism and the criminal justice system, here are two of my favorite resources:
13th / Ava Duvernay
Just Mercy / Bryan Stevenson
Another article on the depiction of police brutality in the media:
Fictional Police Brutality, Real Emotional Toll / Aisha Harris, New York Times
