Trusting God In The Midst Of TragedyНамуна

Trusting God When People Judge You Unfairly

Anthony

I was a young, tall, black male with wavy hair and a pretty face. I played some basketball, but I was really a nerd, so I didn’t really fit in with the white kids or with the brothers. I talked clean, did my homework, and hung out at the YMCA. When I started college, I dropped basketball and started acting in plays. From there I moved to comedy and committed myself to becoming an entertainer. 

Back then, the Chicago-area comedy clubs were part of the white world. Such clubs didn’t exist in the black world. I didn’t know what my style was, so I tried everything. Some of the brothers would say, “You’re trying to be smart. You’re trying to be sophisticated. You’re trying to be white.” That attitude drove me crazy. There are thirty million blacks in America, and we don’t all eat fried chicken, and we don’t all live in the city. Yet we hear that if we talk correctly, we’re trying to be white. If we don’t listen to hip-hop, we’re not really black. It was hard for me to find my audience, and that was depressing. The brothers wanted you to be black, and I thought I was black, but they wanted you to be a specific black.

I could go back and forth between the white clubs and the black lounges. I’ve always been a crossover comic because my style of comedy can appeal to anybody. Working both worlds helped me develop my craft—and to get on television. This not fitting in helped me handle rejection. Fear of rejection can be an obstacle to growth. It also helped me to not judge others harshly, but with an eye for humor.

When Brittany was sick I reflected on being a young black man in America. I thought about being followed around stores, typecast as an actor, suspected of murder for no reason other than I was tall, black man standing at a bus stop. I recalled how Chicago cops stopped me as I walked home from the hospital where my daughter lay in a coma. Those negative thoughts were building up and it had to come out somewhere. The tone of my comedy shifted and became darker.

When I was diagnosed with MS, I kept it to myself. I didn’t want people to judge me or overlook me because of it. I also didn’t want to have to explain it. When I did finally share about it, most people were supportive and wanted to help. I spent a lot of years hiding my feelings and opinions to avoid being judged. Now I see that every person is unique and God made them who they are. You control how you treat others. I choose to share God’s love and acceptance with others—to give back to my community the love God has given me. (See Matthew 22:37–38.)

Brigitte

I didn’t like the way Anthony was treated on the road. It was a hazing process. I think it was very abusive the way club owners treated comics. They put him and other comics up in the worst places. One was a halfway house and one time when our baby daughter and I traveled with him, the apartment we stayed in was unkempt with only a pullout sofa, no telephone, and absolutely no heat. Anthony wouldn’t speak up for himself—he thought there were other comics ready to take his place. He was being exploited and mistreated, and it was terrible. I could have pushed my way in here, but back then, the more receptive you were to being mistreated, the more the club owners wanted to book you.

I also saw how the police treated Anthony. Leaving the hospital after visiting our daughter Brittany, they stopped Anthony, treating him like a criminal. I went off. I peppered the police with questions until they finally made some excuse and left. I started worrying about Anthony. There was this level of angst that I would always feel when he was away. It changed me. It definitely changed me.

After Anthony was on The Tonight Show, I felt like we were living in a Cinderella situation. Sometimes I would go out with him and enjoy all the accoutrements and amenities, and then experience the carriage-turns-to-pumpkin part where we come home to a sick child and Anthony would go on the road again. He was achieving what he’d wanted, yet for me it was hard to celebrate. I turned to prayer and the Bible to find solace in God’s goodness and revive my spirit (see Psalm 34:8 and Romans 15:13). I understood that this was his world, and I supported him in it, but I didn’t have to live in it fully.

When Brittany was sick, Anthony started getting really dark. He was still a sweet guy, but his demeanor changed. It went from fanciful and frolicsome to bitter and biting. Even his facial expressions changed when he would deliver his bits. He came across as angry.

After Brittany died, I was grieving and depressed and I had grown very cynical. I became very sensitive to the subtle racism in LA. In Chicago at least the racism was overt. I would notice little things at a party or business function or in a restaurant. It was like tiny drips on a rock that would erode my self-esteem or increase the risk of my becoming rageful. Anthony is good-spirited and more forgiving while I’m a cynic at heart. That’s why we’re so well balanced. We learned to encourage each other (see 1 Thessalonians 5:11). As we matured in our relationship, and started to manage our grief in healthy ways, I was proud of the way Anthony began to stand up for himself. 

Respond

Why do you think people judge others unfairly? When is this a temptation for you?

How can you respond to being treated unfairly? What kind of attitude does God want you to have as you react to these people and situations? 

How can you encourage those who have experienced racism or who have been taken advantage of? What does God's Word say about the value of each person? (See John 3:16, 1 Corinthians 12:12–13, and Galatians 3:26–28.)