“Because it is a long journey to this moment I am naturally indebted to countless numbers of people … For all of them, all I can say is a very special thank you.” – Sidney Poitier
On March 15, 2026, Michael B. Jordan won the Academy Award for Best Actor, becoming the sixth Black man to have achieved this accolade in the Oscars’ 98-year history. Michael B. Jordan’s performance as the two characters, Smoke and Stack, in the film “Sinners” was absolutely phenomenal. His ability to simultaneously play two characters who differ so greatly, while portraying both as complex and well-rounded individuals, is a testament to Michael B. Jordan’s talent as an actor. At no point while watching “Sinners” did I confuse Smoke for Stack or vice versa. As an armchair cinephile, I admit, I am not qualified to discuss the artistic genius of “Sinners,” but as someone who tends to pay a little too much attention to what people say, I can confidently discuss Michael B. Jordan’s speech and his deliberate decision to use the Oscars stage as a platform to highlight the systemic exclusion of Black actors in this category.
Jordan’s speech began, of course, with him expressing gratitude to his parents and his colleagues, but near the end of his speech, he made a statement that caught my ear: “I stand here because of the people that came before me: Sidney Poitier, Denzel Washington, Halle Berry, Jamie Fox, Forest Whittaker, Will Smith.” Every person he named was a Black recipient of the “Best Actor/Actress” award: six names, six Black people. On April 13, 1964 (the 36th Academy Award), Sidney Poitier became the first Black person to win the “Best Actor” Oscar for his portrayal of Homer Smith in the 1963 film “Lilies of the Field.” 38 years later, in 2002, Denzel Washington became the second Black person to win the award for his role in the 2001 film “Training Day.” Surely in those 38 years, Black performance was not mediocre. The fact that fewer than ten Black people have received the Academy Award in the nearly century-long history of the Oscars is not a reflection of the capabilities of Black people but rather their longstanding exclusion by the academy. Of the six Black recipients Michael B. Jordan listed, only one is a woman. Halle Berry, who won the same year as Denzel Washington, made history as the first Black woman to receive the Academy Award for Best Actress. While she was absolutely deserving of the award, a bigger question remains: why did the Oscars run for 74 years before a Black woman was finally deemed “deserving” of this accolade? Additionally, in the twenty years since, why has not one other Black woman been deserving of this award? There are undeniable barriers Black actors face at these award shows. In listing the few Black actors recognized by the Academy, Michael B. Jordan emphasizes these barriers with striking clarity.
Jordan’s decision to list the previous Black recipients of his award on the Oscars stage was a powerful acknowledgment of the exclusion faced by Black artists from the same stage under his feet. Black artists have been massively underrepresented by the Academy Awards. According to USC Annenberg, only 2% percent of all nominees and winners have been Black from 1929 to 2026. This exclusion of Black artists from these award shows led Black Americans to create their own organizations to recognize Black contributions to the arts. The NAACP Image Awards, established in 1967, was founded for the sole purpose of providing representation to Black artists who have been overlooked by these predominantly white award shows. It is against the backdrop of systematic underrepresentation at these awards that Black achievement stands out as so significant. As Jordan himself acknowledged, “I know you guys want me to do well and I want to do that because you guys bet on me. So thank you for keeping on betting on me.” This statement is more than just an expression of gratitude for his community; it is also an acknowledgment that rooting for a Black actor in a category dominated by white artists is, in itself, a risky wager for true acknowledgement by a system that has continuously ignored Black artistry.
Michael B. Jordan’s Oscars speech was relatively short, and some may say that I am reading too much into it. I disagree. Art has always been political, and in turn, artists have always been political. An artist’s declaration that their art is not political, is, in and of itself, a political statement. Political thinkers such as W.E.B. Du Bois have long since argued this point. In his “Criteria of Negro Art,” Du Bois makes the provocative assertion that art is inherently propaganda and is an essential political tool: “Thus all Art is propaganda and ever must be, despite the wailing of the purists.” Du Bois addresses the purist belief that art can exist separately from politics as simply idealistic and that only in a truly perfect world could art not be political. Art and politics within our society can never be divorced. Therefore, the deliberate decision of an actor — who starred in a movie directed, written, and produced by a Black man about the experience of Black Americans in the Jim Crow South — to emphasize the small number of Black actors recognized by the Academy on such a large stage was far from fortuitous. Jordan’s speech was nothing if not political.
