Hello and welcome to Coffee & Contemplation! My name is Jor-El and I’m a mental health professional and author who seeks to help people connect more deeply with themselves through mindfulness and greater self-compassion.
I’m the author of Meditations for Black Men and a few other books that might help you heal your relationship with yourself.
Today’s newsletter offers up some reflections I have for the movie Wicked: Part 1.
Just weeks ago, Wicked hit theaters and quickly became one of the most popular movies musicals in cinema history. The story has themes that have reached New York audiences for more than two decades, and I think strikes a deep chord when it comes to authenticity and visibility.
Two of the film’s leads, Cynthia Erivo (Elphaba) and Jonathan Bailey (Prince Fiyero) have been open about their queer identities in interviews, and star Ariana Grande (Galinda/Glinda) has been open about how taking on the role has helped her embraced a part of her not often seen by the public…her love for musical theater and comedy. With them all, it seems the project has provided a sense of pride in their hard work and deep gratitude for the ability to embody art forms (like singing and dancing) that are so closely tied to the deepest parts of themselves as creators and artists. The interviews are touching to watch.
I recently saw Wicked in theaters and the film was my introduction to the show. Despite living in New York City for almost as long as the show has been running, I never made it a point to see the Broadway show. While colleagues and friends over the years have lauded the merits of Wicked, I hadn’t yet been sold on its appeal. This reality is despite my deep wonder and love for The Wizard of Oz film. In fact, it’s likely that my love for the film is what has kept me loyal and anxiously avoiding anything that might alter my deep appreciation for the fantastical allegory for self-discovery.

Imagine my surprise then, in a toasty Manhattan dine-in theater, when I realized that Elphaba’s story, especially under the care of the incomparable Cynthia Erivo, deepens the original film’s story of self-discovery. In Wicked, an often bullied and maligned Elphaba undertakes a journey of discovery and self-acceptance amidst the harshest of circumstances. Furthermore, Erivo’s Elphaba can’t be viewed without the present context of her lived experience as a Black performer in Hollywood.
This reality underscores the narrative of being othered and isolated, particularly coming out of the 2024 American Presidential election in which Black women overwhelmingly voted for Kamala Harris, only to be blindsided by the election’s results. Additionally, in viewing Elphaba’s on-screen arc, Black women online have shared how they finally see themselves reflected in a genre that often views them as invisible.
In one key moment in Part 1, during the climax of Defying Gravity, Elphaba realizes that in order to truly fly she must reach out to a younger version of herself. As she reaches out her hand on faith to connect with her inner child she begins to soar, presenting an obvious and powerful message of how embracing authenticity can lead to not only surviving, but thriving. The nimble and soulful battle cry that then follows is the musical cherry on top.
As I sit back and contemplate on Wicked further, I’m not only struck by the power that can come with accepting oneself but also the challenges of visibility.
Elphaba is born a powerful witch with green skin. It is the reaction to her skin, and her mother’s obvious infidelity, that leads to rejection and neglect from her father. As she moves throughout life she is cared for deeply by other outsiders, namely Nanny Bear. This is visible and potent for her, but can’t quite counteract all the villainous messaging Elphaba is subjected to throughout her life.
We see early on how Elphaba internalizes self-hatred regarding the color green. Its a small moment, but an essential reminder of how being highly visible, and othered, can truly be traumatizing in hostile environments.
So many people can relate to this part of Elphaba’s story and recognize how difficult it is to be different, especially upon sight. Anyone with darker skin who exists in majority white environments can relate to the burden of this feeling and its lasting toll on one’s mental health.
Unlike Elphaba’s life, in the real world we are sometimes afforded opportunities to find community with people who share our differences (if we’re so fortunate). Even in the tiniest amounts, this kind of connection can be life saving, and a beacon for our sanity in otherwise persistently malevolent and neglectful conditions.
As I wrote in my previous essay, Be a Lighthouse, our visibility can be of tremendous values to others. Whether you’ve learned to shrink and hide because of the color of your skin, your gender identity and expression, or sexuality, there is power in letting others see you as truly you are rather than who they project you to be.
While I haven’t seen the Wicked story in its entirety, I sense that part of act two is Elphaba’s acceptance of who she is, how the world sees her, and her choices to act from a place of internal power and alignment with her own values. Just the thought of this potential story arc provides me with inspiration to keep giving myself permission to be authentic and visible in meaningful ways. I hope that it inspires you to do the same.
Of course, being authentic to oneself is complicated. On one hand it can be an incredible privilege reserved for those who live in safer micro-enviroments and cultures. On the other hand, sometimes authenticity is hardly a choice at all, but more so a mandate for survival, and challenges to our ability to embrace it leaves us questioning whether there is value in life at all.
Authenticity and visibility can be tricky, if not downright dangerous and potentially fatal, depending on how your immediate environment responds to you. I find it difficult not to think about the current sociopolitical context of the U.S. right now, particularly as access to healthcare for trans folks is currently up for a decision in the Supreme Court as the justices evaluate whether some states bands on gender affirming care for minors is unconstitutional or not. The impact, undoubtedly, will impact even adults’ abilities to live their lives authentically.
Prejudice and discrimination negatively impact the mental health and livelihood of its victims. And while having green, or black, skin has been deemed wicked throughout much of modern history lest we forget to appropriately examine who is truly wicked (and who is not).
The fight for authenticity is an ongoing obstacle to true health and wellness. It won’t be rectified with indulgent self-care routines, but more so the changing of hearts and minds of those who, within their heritage, have a deeply held intergenerational mutation to see the “other” as inherently dangerous and threatening.
While the truly wicked refuse to rest, you have to make sure that you find your spaces and moments of refuge so that your spirit can soar in life’s moments just as does Elphaba when she recognizes her true beauty and power.
Take good care of yourself.




