A few days ago Esquire released their new cover issue for March 2019. Perched on the edge of a green bed spread, sat a white, teenager staring listlessly into the camera with the words An American Boy superimposed towards the bottom.
During Black History Month, when black people are celebrating our heroes, icons, and legends, an article detailing the life of a Mid-Western white boy was met with an angry Twitter mob; pitch forks ablaze, and sharp fingers poised to let the vitriol fly.
“Because you know what we don’t discuss nearly enough? The white male experience,” tweeted Jemele Hill.
Communications Director of The Wing, Zara Rahim wrote that the choice of the magazine to choose such a typical subject was a missed opportunity, addressing Esquire succinctly with a ‘shame on you.’
On top of the subject matter being met with scorching flames, a lot of tweets called the story boring, and poorly written. Maybe it was boring, but poorly written? I’m not sure. I think it was plainly written. The writer describes the subject, Ryan Morgan using plain and simple language. There is no artifice here. No flowery words, or overdone metaphors. The kid is who he is, and believes in what he believes in.
I think there was an assumption here that the author, Jennifer Percy, wrote this profile as a well-intentioned argument to oppose what people think of the white male in America.
Some thought that this was an article written with a ‘see, look they’re not all bad,’ intention, but I don’t think it was any of those things.
The profile does lack description, but it does have a wealth of detail. The conversation Ryan has with his friends, the little comments he makes in response to the writer’s questions –The story is not an explanation for the young, white male experience, it is an exposé.
Here is white privilege, misguidedness, and ignorance, laid bare. The writer wasn’t propping up Morgan in his support of Donald Trump and conservatism with any veiled rhetoric.
If anything, she quoted all of the wince inducing and cringe worthy moments when it came to some of his opinions on politics and social issues.
I mean, he has to be reminded of what #MeToo is, after talking about getting into a physical altercation with a girl the year before for Christ sake. I shudder to think how that could’ve gone had Ryan been a teenage black boy, who hit a white girl. Yikes.
He and a friend then talk about how pointless it was that James Gunn, director of Guardian’s of the Galaxy, was fired over past tweets. When one of the tweets looks like this: “I fucked the shit out of the little pussy boy sitting next to me!” I fail to see how pointless that is.
One of his teacher’s glosses over Bill O’Reilly’s past sexual misconduct with a breezy paraphrase, saying he did “some things with the ladies he shouldn’t have done,” which is one hell of an understatement.
But this isn’t only about Ryan, but the world he lives in. Like, the very male, bonding he has with his dad that consists only of three things: Hunting, watching football, and playing catch.
His girlfriend, who he notes is tentative when driving, because that’s more a girl thing, whereas he’s decisive and certain. So, yeah it is his world. A very white, seemingly male oriented world, which is why if you look a little closer, being so upset with this article isn’t all that necessary.
Profiling Ryan Morgan is not a celebration, in fact I think calling him an American boy is ironic. Here is a kid who was what America is supposed to look like right? But his life is so unreflective of what America is today: Multifaceted, diverse, and brown.
He’s more like an “American Boy” than an American boy, and I think the writer knows this.
Here’s the thing: I would’ve never run this during Black History Month, even if it was for March. I would’ve never gave this story first page priority.
We’re in a very strange, precarious time where every journalist’s intentions are under microscope.
To set up this story for publication in this way, was suicide. Or was it?