“I do hope I say something that unsettles you”, Cornel West began.
The world-famous intellectual, hosted by the York Federation of Students as part of their Xpressions Against Oppression events, launched into an hour-and-a-half long preach that covered nothing, but somehow everything, at York’s Price Family Cinema on February 26.
For those unfamiliar with West’s style, there’s no easy way to describe it. He doesn’t readily fit into any political category, shouting high praise for socialists (and asserting President Barack Obama falls far short of their agenda), but also reminding the audience he differs from the far left in key ways.
Defined as a “public intellectual,” his work encompasses subjects like slavery, modern apartheid, and general hatred, focused quite simplistically on the bravery and high hopes that oppose them. West never says anything you haven’t heard before.
But as he spoke in his powerful, commanding voice, with an impressively quick and tongue-twisting lyricism, he dug deeper into issues that so often feel detached. West sometimes entered tirade territory, but under his fiery anger, there’s a loving heart so often missing from pundits on both sides of the political playing field.
He often fused adjectives of brutality with ones of bravery in his poetic proclamations.
“There’s a tenderness that allows a wounded people to still straighten their back,” he said, calling on every punished minority through a vivid metaphor of slavery.
More rousing and poignant was West’s most simple deconstruction of racism and black identity: “It’s quite ironic that some of the most hated people are the greatest exemplars of love.” Nobody’s out of West’s reach, too famous or too respected.
“If you really wanna be big and bad, come outta the studio,” he beckoned to Kanye West and Jay-Z, receiving unanimous applause from the audience.
“Show your true self!”
I attended West’s speech because it was surrounded by big buzz, and I figured I would get something out of it. What I didn’t realize is how fundamentally and universally
probing he can be. West is a genius, worth being heard by anyone and everyone.
Once he’d touched on every problem in society he could grasp—discussing ethnic minorities, homophobia, women’s rights, and the recognition of transgender people—West broadened his scope further still.
Ultimately, his speech inspired love and courage, regardless of who was in his audience. On the subject of bravery and perseverance, West enlightened the crowd about their own cynicism and faux brilliance.
“Smartness is tied to more dollars,” he claimed. “We’re so obsessed with success, we miss greatness.”
Dustin Dyer
Features Editor