If you have lived in my house in 2016, has not gone a day without listening to me talk a lot about the Hamilton the soundtrack. I was a first year student at the university with no chance of affording a ticket to the concert, so for the months that I’ve entered in the daily raffle of free tickets, praying that my time in those coveted Broadway seats that would come. It never did.
Being the dramatic musical geek that I was, I threw myself to sing, singing the lyrics to each chorus and chorus, with the hope that somehow, Lin-Manuel Miranda suddenly heard my cries, and fly down from the clouds with a basket of tickets and champagne. He never made it.
But months later, the heavens parted, and my soon-to-be-mate offered me a ticket for a show during the U.S. tour. My prayers had been answered, the destination reached. Not long after, Hamilton the mania is turned off how to do things the natural way, getting less and less owners until they are removed from the media cycle all together.
Then Disney+ released a film version of the billion dollar musicand the growing views of hundreds of thousands of new viewers the reopening of the road. The wave of “oh”and “ah”s to the musical’s Tony-winning performances and emotionally intrepid, the narration was to be expected, but it came to a similar revival in the largest production of critique: his washing of slavery.
For those who somehow don’t know the plot of Hamilton by now, follows the life of founding father Alexander Hamilton, of his immigration to the colonies for his heroism in the war of independence and, finally, the scandalous, although immensely influential political career. Your personal and romantic relationships are woven throughout as well, the filing of a large times to both laughter and tears of sadness. Hamilton triumphs built the foundations of American government today, as it did along with the legacies, such as George Washington and Thomas Jefferson to bring the American dream to fruition.
Lin-Manuel Miranda worked to bring this story to the stage, but in typical Miranda fashion, the final product was just as inspired as its source material. The acclaimed playwright, and actor, predominantly recruited actors of color to play the white of the founding fathers and the assortment of the company in this rap and R&B reimagination of America’s early days. Thomas Jefferson, the white of Virginia, who had bounties of slaves, it is played by Daveed Diggs, a black man with swagger and and afro. Each character has been reimagined as a modern, full of feeling, and, frankly, less problematic version of themselves. This vivid painting of the rise of America as a nation, however, led to the glossing over of the country’s gross dependence and pervasive use of slave labor.
In addition to a couple of mentions of Hamilton to be an abolitionist (which has been disproved) and Jefferson to be more clear that it is not, the problem of the mass and generation of slavery was brought forward. It is difficult to defect to overlook, especially as Disney+ the film premiered on the heels of Black Lives Matter protests. Critics argue that Hamilton’s rosy interpretation of the birth of the united states undermines the reality of how oppressive and inhuman times of the founding father’s reign wereclear the plight of the Black slaves and the displaced Indigenous people trampled over for the sake of “something greater”.
The critics are correct. Hamilton does not do justice to the dozens of people of color tortured at the whim of the politicians here painted as dedicated servants to the good of the county. But it offers much more in return.
“What if the America we now know that in reality it was the America announced to the world? Without a doubt it would be something to sing more.”
I know Hamilton it is not necessary, not only in its vagueness with regard to slavery, but also in their line of time and the representation of the relationships. It does not give us the truth of America. But yes gives us an inspiring story. Immigrants who enter the country each day, with the hopes of fulfilling the American dream in the land of opportunity. For many, that dream has made it nearly impossible for systemic barriers to advancement. But, what if not? What if the united states really was a country founded by a rag-tag team of rapping idealists with only good intentions in their hearts and freedom on their lips? What if the America we now know that in reality it was the America announced to the world? Without a doubt it would be something to sing more.
As a Black woman, I have worked constantly over my pride as an American, if I have any at all. As the color of the soldiers who fought in the world wars, I contemplate how to reconcile believing in a dream that escape from me while I’m in this body. I am or I will not kneel down? I can appreciate the soldiers who stood by as Black men are gunned down within our borders? Do I pledge allegiance to the flag that hangs from his ambivalence toward the curtains above my head? There is always a war between being Black and being American, a war that is waged forever internally, only to fall in the public eye during times of protests or riots. It is almost inevitable to become a cynic, mocking the flag that enables my people, the subjugation, the cages of the innocent children, that gives millions to millionaires like millions of people go hungry and homeless.
My country is not the America of Hamiltonbut for the two-and-one-half hours I spend singing along to Renée Elise Goldsberry absolutely kill the role of Angelica Schuyler, I forget the truth, and I was reminded of the desire. And that has to be worth something.
