sydni henderson

Two years ago for a course assignment, I was tasked with creating a speech about something that embodies the word courage. I immediately thought of the Cowardly Lion from the film The Wiz. I presented this to the class and showed them a scene from the movie to prove my argument; but in the end, I was questioned. “Why did you choose this over the original film?” I immediately took the defensive and spit out at this person every factual thing about the movie that I thought someone who didn’t look like me would understand. “This movie features celebrities like Diana Ross and Michael Jackson.” “I grew up watching this.” “It has a great soundtrack.” And then I said the one thing that I knew wouldn’t make sense to anyone in the room, because they were all white. “I’m black.” And there were smiles and chuckles. And that was the end of my speech. But I did not talk about the memories that I made when The Wiz was on. I grew up watching the film because it celebrated black people without bringing up the fact that they were black. I did not mention that we only watched this film on Thanksgiving and Christmas and that this was the only time that I felt like my family was whole. And each time I watched it, I learned something new about my family or about myself. See, the entire film revolves around Dorothy not recognizing what she already has. She wants to go home, but she doesn’t know where home is. I often felt this way. Like Dorothy stranded in a foreign land, I felt alone. But the journey that she takes in the film shows her that she was lonely, not alone. Now, when I picture the embodiment of the word courage, I think of Dorothy. Because she had to let her heart guide her to coming home. She had to believe in a miracle and that miracle was herself. But the person who gave that final push to her was Glinda, the Good Witch of the South. She appears as some sort of fairy godmother though the only gift that Dorothy receives from her is the gift of believing. I watch The Wiz on my own now and cherish the memories that I made with my family. I believe that those memories are there for a reason and that Glinda represents something more than human, something magical that you need to embrace to understand. I hope that when you look at my piece, you can feel that magic and let yourself believe in something that you have had a hard time believing.