Jan 14

A Brief and Impassioned Review of Hamilton the Musical

Introduction

Hear me out—I love blackwashing U.S. history. For example, we all know Beethoven was Black. I’m convinced Pushkin only fired on D’anthes after he used the N-word, allegedly. Do I have proof? No. Am I just saying? Absolutely.

The Struggle of Blackwashing History

While blackwashing history can be fun, Hamilton reveals that most of it is wishful thinking. Sure, Pushkin probably didn’t fire on D’anthes for the N-word. But my spite for Europe’s treatment of... well, everything... sometimes ruins my love for blackwashing. For context: my grandmother didn’t pick cotton as a child because of the Ottomans.

Mixed Feelings About Hamilton

Listening to Hamilton, I can’t fully immerse myself in its narrative. At best, Aaron Burr gave life to an abolitionist, allegedly. Meanwhile, Hamilton stood beside a man with slave teeth. How does that work?

I do not want to hear from you one more time, King George. Boo! Go home, Roger. You’ve got teeth to remove from your slaves.

And yet, when Lin-Manuel Miranda says, “My name is Alexander Hamilton,” I feel something. This is the world’s longest-running democracy. Sure, they didn’t explicitly write race and class into the Bill of Rights—technically—but that’s still something.

The example George Washington set by leaving office was revolutionary during an era of Bolívars and Napoleons.

For just a second, when “Raise a glass to freedom” comes on, I feel patriotic. I think:

Is this what white people feel all the time? Like they belong to a historical struggle for freedom rooted in the founding of the U.S.?

The Inevitable Letdown

But then reality sets in:

Massive anti-trans legislation
Hamilton ruining his career by publicly explaining why he cheated on his wife.
Hamilton advising his son to duel and not shoot.

My man, you’re a goof. Big goof. Burr smoking on the Hamilton pack.

Final Thoughts

My favorite thing about Hamilton? Hamilton is a goof, and Burr is a dummy. The musical moves me to set the bar extremely low for large groups of people, which, surprisingly, is cathartic.