Surviving the Cosbypocalypse Pt. One. Afros and Good Times

Sad Bill

Sucks to be Bill right now. Whether you think it’s karma or a witch hunt, we can all agree he has some explaining to do.


It sucks to be Bill Cosby.

I’ve written about him before.

I think he did it.

I remember when the allegations first surfaced, before he threw a wrecking ball full of money at them. I remember seeing an interview with his accuser, who was a Black woman living a normal life; a far cry from Janice Dickerson. She painted a picture of a calculated predator that was a polar opposite from the characters that he portrays.

We will never know for sure. Even if she had gone to the police directly after an encounter with Cosby, it would be a hard allegation to prove. That doesn’t mean he’s innocent. Just that rape, even under normal circumstances, is difficult for law enforcement to prove.

If you think he’s innocent (or better yet, think that he is above questioning), then you’ll take that opinion to your grave. I’m okay with that. You need Mr. Huxtable more than I need to dethrone him.

This isn’t about his guilt, though. Even I have a heart. I can’t look at his sad old face and keep heaping on criticism. Besides,I want to remember happier times. I want to celebrate him in a way that nobody has. Bill Cosby: Creepy grandfather of the modern Natural Hair movement.

Bill Cosby gave me my first, genuine Black crushes, and they were magnificent. Denise (Lisa Bonet), with her funkier than thou self put me on a lifelong quest to find a weird, natural haired girl to call my own. Then came Vanessa, who grew into a free-form afro rocking powerhouse. Cree Summer was Hotep before Hotep was a thing.

If Spike Lee opened my mind to funky natural sistas with Nola Darling, Joie Lee (loved her!) and all of the jigaboos in School Daze, Bill Cosby fed me a regular diet beautiful, Black, natural women. In a weird way, he’s the creepy grand-dad of the natural hair movement. Think on that.

Granted, I’m sure he wasn’t on set removing relaxers from dressing rooms. This was something that was already blossoming, particularly in New York. He gave it room. And those depictions would go on to inspire a generation of Black women to undergo the big chop, not to mention the men who love them for it.