Anonymous asked: How do you not see the connection between appropriating iconic Black American imagery the lack of Black American representation on Marvel's creative teams?

brevoortformspring:

Okay, fair cop, I spoke quickly and curtly and may have given the wrong impression. So I apologize for that.

I think that anybody who’s been reading this page for the past month or so should have a pretty good idea of where I stand on the issue of representation in our comics—and that goes for creators as well as characters. We can always do better, and we continue to work on it.

There are still plenty more titles to be announced as part of the All-New, All-Different Marvel, and as they continue to roll out, I believe that you’ll see the evidence of our commitment to creator representation among the creative teams as well as our characters.

My point, such as it was, is that this isn’t an either-or situation. Doing the Hip-Hop covers (many of which were illustrated by creators of color) has no direct bearing on the state of African-American representation among our creative teams. What it does do, hopefully, is to showcase an appreciation for this respected artform, and by extension create an environment that’s maybe a little bit more welcoming to prospective creators.

Honestly, this would *mean something* to me if comics didn’t, ever since the beginning of the emergence of rap and hip hop, depicted every street-level thug and gangster that superheroes beat up, as people– nearly always black, or brown or other minorities– who’re into hip hop culture.

If Batman and Spider-Man hadn’t spent the entirety of the 1980s, 1990s, and 2000s beating up on street thug “gangbangers” who were nearly always black and often caricatured to look like Public Enemy or NWA members, or 1990s gangsta rappers, then I could probably see some merit in Brevoort’s statement that the highly publicized hip hop variant covers that Marvel’s releasing are a way to “showcase an appreciation for this respected artform[sic],” rather than just a way to make gobs of money off the unending popularity of a Black American art form, and the suspiciously coincidental release of the Straight Outta Compton movie.