We knew that we were tied to him, that his physical destruction was our physical destruction, because if the black God, who made the zombies dance, who brokered great wars, who transformed stone to light, if he could not be beautiful in his own eyes, then what hope did we have—mortals, children—of ever escaping what they had taught us, of ever escaping what they said about our mouths, about our hair and our skin, what hope did we ever have of escaping the muck?
I remember being a kid and wrestling with Charles Barkley declaring, "I am not a role model." He had a point, I thought, that he didn't ask to be a role model so why should he have to be? Why couldn't he just be a great basketball player? Coates, in this passage, helps me see why. Some people who reach greatness don't just reach greatness, they embody the very hope of achieving greatness for whole communities. These greats don't ask for their station but there it is, along with the accompanying responsibilities, and it doesn't matter whether or not it's fair, people are counting on them.