That’s right I said it, “Without a BMW, I’m just a Negro with an opinion.” That’s what my NAACP, MBA, PHD, Fulbright scholar, friend told me the other day. I almost spit out my peppermint tea. I wasn’t sure if he was being comical or not; even though his sentiment nearly made me inhale my drink through my nose, the sincerity in which he said it really got me thinking… How ironic is it that a scholar has the same aspirations as a drug dealer/rapper.
My scholarly friend had just purchased himself a new 7series Black BMW. He called to see if I was home before driving to my crib to show off his new ride. Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaamn, that joint is fly! Massage seats, mirrors that fold in and rotate up at a ninety-degree angle, and an automated notepad that can record messages, thoughts, and pontifications while you are driving. Automatic windshield wipers that can sense weather conditions, regardless of rain, hail, sleet or snow. Here my friend was, someone who had spent years dedicating himself to higher learning, who in this moment was feeling himself like the drug dealer, Caine, from Menace to Society driving around in his new ride. I loved it. Where was the context in media for this kind of Black man?
I laughed when he told me about how his BMW had changed his life. Valet's, at restaurants now call him “sir”, women are checking out to see who he is, and business men confront him just to give respect. A meter maid asked what he had to do to get "a ride like that" before allowing him to park in a red zone. My friend coolly responded, “I’m a professor.”
Before the BMW,his family for years wondered why someone with all of his degrees, who they occasionally saw on TV, (not realizing that just because you’re on TV doesn’t mean you’re rich), was driving a hoopty. He was cleaning up his credit and responsibly putting his money aside for his house before indulging in materialistic desires. However, they couldn’t see that. Especially not his sixteen year old nephew who he had been trying to help stay out of trouble. He told me about the time his nephew was sent to stay with him and how he tried to talk to him about the rewards of owning a house, but the kid took one look at his hoopty and couldn’t hear a word. A house has abstract value, especially after the great crash, and especially to a sixteen year old. It wasn’t until his nephew saw his BMW did he emulate the cinematic emotion of that popular movie line, “Now you got the juice.”
What it boils down to is the American dream is the same inside the 'hood as it is out, and he had lived in both environments long enough to confirm this. His lectures suddenly hold more weight with both students and colleagues continuing to give him "the juice." Like he said, Before the BMW he was just a Negro with an opinion.
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