Why Myron Medcalf chose not to attend Dave Chappelle's Minneapolis show

Whenever I would visit my cousin, James, my mother would give him instructions about our time together. "Don't let him sit in the front seat," she'd say. "Don't drive fast. Make sure he minds his manners and no fast food."

James would always nod and agree to her demands. Once we turned the corner, however, I'd jump in the front seat as we slid down the block on our way to McDonald's. He had managed to break my mother's rules within minutes. We both took an oath of secrecy about our endeavors. And I loved him for that. James — we were separated by more than a decade — always made me feel free, fun, loved and protected.

I do not know if he ever felt the same way. James was Black and gay in the 1980s, which subjected him and others like him to a compounded marginalization. In my personal universe back then, the fullness of James' existence was mentioned only in whispers. "James is, well, you know."

I thought about James a week ago when I decided that I could not attend Dave Chappelle's recent performance at the Target Center. Chappelle was there — joined by Justin Bieber and Usher for some reason — to discuss his documentary, "Untitled," which details his promotion of comedic acts during the pandemic through outdoor concerts at his farm in Yellow Springs, Ohio.

I am a fan of Chappelle's work.

He is one of the world's most important voices on racism, its power and its texture. In Chappelle's stand-up, racism is not a concept but a tangible force that impacts anyone who isn't white. And if you're Black, the consequences of your skin tone are magnified. That's the thread through Chappelle's comedy, from "Chappelle's Show" through his multiple specials with Netflix. I believe he is a genius — a combination of Dick Gregory, Richard Pryor and Eddie Murphy.

But he arrived last weekend steeped in the controversy tied to his latest Netflix special, "The Closer."

Yet, he's the one who looks like a bully.

Chappelle also ignores the Black people who identify with two groups that have historically been subjected to laws, stereotypes and violence aimed to strip them of their collective humanity. At best, he sounds ignorant due to the limitations of his material, which fails to address intersectionality within sexuality.

I believe comedians enjoy the license to discuss issues without observing the boundaries we all respect in our professional lives. I prefer my comedy with profanity, discomfort and edge. Yet, I also don't think that pact gives any comedian the power to say whatever they want to say without repercussion.

And that's the flaw in Chappelle's ongoing rebuttal to those who've criticized his material in "The Closer." He has put up his shield and dared anyone to question him.

But isn't that what we've been fighting as a Black community for ages? Haven't we demanded the power to shape the narratives about ourselves in a world that often relies on white people to decide who and what we are? Chappelle vows, toward the end of the special, that he will not tell another joke about the LGBTQ community until he's certain "we are laughing together."

I don't believe my refusal to see Chappelle's show makes me a certified LGBTQ ally or supporter. That's not for me to decide. But I know that I'm not sure where I stand on Chappelle after his latest special and since I don't know, I did not think my attendance at his show last weekend would support that juxtaposition.

These LGBTQ jokes could be dangerous. Mostly for others. Does he know?

My cousin moved across the country as he got older and we lost touch. I would get updates from my mother about his life on the East Coast. I always wondered if he felt accepted out there.

Three years ago, however, my father called me and gave me the news: James had died. I instantly reflected on our time together. During those Saturday excursions to forbidden places, we were fighting the power and gobbling cheeseburgers. We were living, man.

But my cousin's name was not James. Even though he's gone, I still don't think I have the right to convey those details about his life. Plus, I remember.

I wish I didn't feel as if I still have to keep his.

Myron Medcalf is a local columnist for the Star Tribune and a national writer and radio host for ESPN. His column appears in print on Sundays twice a month and also online. E-mail: myron.medcalf@startribune.com