As I walked out the film, Straight Outta Compton, I was surprised by the conversation of two white individuals behind me. I couldn’t help but smile at the stupidity and ignorance that easily escaped their mouths. Their conversation existed somewhere along the lines of comparing this film to every other “black music industry” movie. And somehow, because Dream Girls, Cadillac Records, and Ray were are all widely acclaimed, they saw no reason for this film to not receive the same recognition.

And now, this brings us to topic of the #OscarsSoWhite movement. While I do appreciate my classmates for their attempts at a conversation regarding race, I struggle to accept it as valid because it missed the mark. It wasn’t about the system and politics that favors white people, white art and white money. It was a conversation that compared the similarities between movies that center around black people and music.

When some look at a film like Straight Outta Compton, its easy to just see a bunch of black people rapping and doing “black people things.” But for me, I saw something else. I saw the tale of a group of young men learning what it means to trust yourself and those around you with secrets, power and money. It was a coming of age story, that is applicable to all.

Why is it that I see so much diversity among the films titled “black music industry movies” by my classmates and a lot of similarity between “white films?” It comes down to the vastly different realities that we all experiences. Films and music tend to reflect our lives in many ways. They highlight the ups and downs with authenticity and accurateness.

O’Shea Jackson Jr., who plays his father, Ice Cube, said in the movie that “our art is a reflection of our reality.” He couldn’t have been more true. I can’t expect a cabinet of older white men to understand and resonate with the characters of Straight Outta Compton. This move was a honest depiction of a life, that for many remains unknown and only discovered through the nightly news. It isn’t real. Even for me, the character’s lives didn’t resemble mine the slightest. But, there was a shared experience. Similarly to Eazy-E, I’ve cried over broken black bodies. And similarly, to the entire cast, I’ve cried over the loss of someone you love.

I do not expect people to understand me. Or my life. However, is it crazy to want people to understand that  black artists, writers, students, teachers, architects, scientists are individuals? That we live our lives shaped by are blackness but never defined by it?

Its funny because I felt as if I had my “black” card revoked because I was slow to watch Straight Outta Compton. But now, I feel as thought I had it ripped away when I casually let two of my classmates walk away with their reality, never to know mine.