I can’t remember exactly when I realized “Atlanta,” which ended its four-season run Thursday night on FX, was the Blackest show in TV history. It was probably in the midst of “Rich Wigga, Poor Wigga” the episode in which high school kids, in order to qualify for a college scholarship that a wealthy Black man is giving out, have to take a test to prove their Blackness. Black people love to talk about what’s Blacker than what or who’s Blacker than who because, for many of us, Blackness is more than an ethnicity; it’s a religion we love to praise. “Atlanta” took the notion of a racial test to the nth degree, in a way that was funny but also loving. In fact, the whole show is a love letter to hip-hop culture, the city of Atlanta and Blackness itself.
The scholarship test is administered by a tribunal of three middle-aged Black men who ask applicants questions about the nitty-gritty of Blackness to prove that they understand the culture. One of the key evaluations is, “What happened to that boy at Lenox mall.” One applicant, a biracial boy who is white-passing and does not embrace Black culture, answers with facts: “A police officer killed him in a routine traffic stop.” Wrong. “I didn’t say, ‘What happened to that boy at Lenox mall?’” the examiner intones. “I said, ‘What happened to that boy at Lenox mall.’” The divining rod was this: Could you hear that he was not asking for information but instead was commenting on the pain of yet another shooting? The correct answer was, “Mm-mm-mmm. Damn shame.”
Blackness is, of course, too complex to be quantified in a test, so some students who are Black don’t pass. The biracial boy and an African immigrant fail, and they’re so angry about it that they return to the school later that night, intent on revenge, ready to burn the facility to the ground with flamethrowers. Cops arrive. The immigrant gets shot. As he lies on a hospital gurney, the wealthy Black patron arrives and tells him, “Getting shot by the police is the Blackest thing anybody can do.” He gives the boy a scholarship. I don’t know if that’s really the Blackest thing someone can do, but that line is laugh-to-keep-from-crying funny. And that’s a big part of why “Atlanta” is the Blackest show ever: It captures the surrealism of Black life in America, the sense of irrationality that warps our days.
Black people know that just by walking down the street, you can fall through any number of trapdoors that lead to a bizarro world where up is down and your life is in danger. You can be bird-watching in Central Park like Christian Cooper, and then the next thing you know, a white woman is calling 911 and saying you’re threatening her. You can be jogging in Georgia like Ahmaud Arbery when three men start chasing you in trucks and suddenly you’re running for your life. Even if things don’t spiral that far out of control, Black people are often assumed to be someone we are not. Even if you’ve got on a suit, you may be a street criminal, so you’re vulnerable to cops and Karens alike. When you get to your job, some people will assume you got it because of affirmative action or diversity initiatives. At any moment, you may be assumed to be intellectually below average and, at the same time, hyperproficient in sports, dancing and sex.