Policing the Horror of Many Black Men

 

Since attending UCLA, I have experienced events that feel as if they were lifted directly from a Black horror film, such as Jordan Peele’s Get Out or Us. Over my time here, I have received 38 tickets, been pulled over and questioned about how I obtained my car, and been accused of “looking at” officers for too long. I’ve also been asked invasive questions about how I can afford my car and interrogated about where I live. These experiences go with themes present in Get Out, where Chris encounters microaggressions and veiled hostility rooted in the white gaze and systemic oppression. Much like Chris, I have felt the constant need to justify my existence and defend my actions in spaces where I am viewed with suspicion. The unsettling feeling of being policed and surveilled, no matter how innocent or mundane my behavior, echoes the horror of Get Out's depiction of a world where systemic racism is hidden and even accepted. Similarly, Us explores the disparity between privilege and systemic inequity, forcing marginalized groups to navigate a world not built for them. In my experience, I often feel like an “outsider within” at UCLA, a place that markets diversity but usually fails to address the systemic biases Black students face. Us explore those of us who are overlooked, forced to live in the shadows of privilege. I feel frustrated and isolated when I am repeatedly questioned or treated as though I do not belong in Westwood.

Professor Due spoke about policing and how it shapes the lived experiences of marginalized groups, even for those who are not mistreated directly but still feel the threat of surveillance. Her comments resonated deeply with me because, like many others, I carry the weight of these experiences daily. The flashing lights in a rearview mirror or a casual question about where I live can feel like an act of suspicion rather than simple curiosity. As Professor Due explained, horror doesn’t just exist in fiction—it is found in the lived experiences of black people.. For me, these real-life encounters with policing and surveillance are a constant reminder of the structural inequalities Black people face in everyday life. This is not just the stuff of modern horror films; this struggle is deeply rooted in the history of Black horror. For example, Son of Ingagi (1940), one of the first horror films written by a Black screenwriter, Spencer Williams, touches on themes of otherness and fear of the unknown, particularly in its depiction of Black lives in a society that others them. Similarly, The Blackening (2023) uses horror to explore how systemic racism and stereotypes persist in modern society, forcing Black characters to outsmart the systems designed to marginalize them. It was an great movie too. I think it should be a part two based on the ending.

My experiences at UCLA remind me that Black horror isn’t just about supernatural monsters or terrifying circumstances it’s about the very real horror of living in a world where you are constantly viewed as “other,” questioned, or even feared. These films offer a way to confront and understand those struggles, using fiction to shine a light on these issues.

DA