When I first encountered Do the Right Thing, I didn’t initially see myself in the film. I was in a place of deep anger and confusion, trapped in a system that I felt was hostile, oppressive, and unjust at that time. I watched it for the first time while in prison.
The situation I found myself in influenced my view of the world. I felt lost in my circumstances, and this clouded my ability to see clearly who I was or what my place in society could be. Watching Do the Right Thing, I identified most with the feelings of anger, frustration, and disillusionment which the characters expressed. I viewed the film through the lens of my own struggles—my need to make sense of my identity and where I belonged, while grappling with the pain of being incarcerated for my mistakes.
When I watched the film initially, I didn’t really connect with the individual characters or their stories. I was consumed by my own thoughts, my own pain. I saw myself as separate from the movie, as someone who was deeply angry with the system and unsure of where I fit into society. But as I watched the movie multiple times, I began to see myself more clearly in the characters, regardless of their race or background. I realized that, like them, I was searching for a way to reconcile the many different parts of myself, all the conflicting emotions and identities I carried within.
For a long time, I believed that I needed to embody just one characteristic or personality trait—one that society deemed acceptable. I thought that in order to survive in society, I had to fit into a narrow box, especially as a Black man. I presented a singular version of myself, suppressing other sides of my personality in order to conform to what I thought others expected of me. But watching Do the Right Thing, I began to understand that this was unrealistic and harmful. The characters in the film aren’t one-dimensional; they are layered and multifaceted, just like real people. It allowed me to see that I didn’t have to be just one thing. I could be complex and still be valid as a human being.
I connected with the revolutionary spirit embodied by characters like Buggin’ Out and Radio Raheem. These characters resonated with me because they stood against the injustices they witnessed in their community. Like them, I was filled with a sense of outrage at the systemic injustices I saw and had to endure, both in society and in the prison system where I was living. Their defiance against racism and inequality mirrored my own internal desire to fight back against the forces that oppressed me and others like me. I was dealing with the pain of not being able to be with my children. I felt an overwhelming sense of guilt and helplessness, which compounded my feelings of anger and frustration, also compounded by seeing and hearing of inmates and correctional officers alike harming others to the point of even death.
I also had to grapple with the fact that I took a life, which landed me in prison, and even though this was not the character of the people living in the community, my past action outraged me. This struggle to balance personal responsibilities with the desire to resist the forces of oppression connected me deeply to Mookie. Like Mookie, I was trying to survive in a world that often felt stacked against me. I related to his feelings of being overwhelmed, trying to take care of his family while also contending with the pressures and injustices of the outside world.
Growing up, I was constantly aware of how my Blackness made me a target, even though I was just trying to live my life like anyone else. The film reflects this reality through the characters’ interactions—there is always an underlying tension, a sense that things could boil over at any moment. This tension is heightened by the sweltering heat, which acts as a metaphor for the simmering anger and frustration that everyone is carrying. I could relate to this so deeply because in my own life, I often felt like I was walking on eggshells, knowing that at any moment, things could explode, whether it was due to a confrontation with the police or some other form of racial violence.
One of the more personal connections I made with the film was through Da Mayor, played by Ossie Davis. Da Mayor is the neighborhood alcoholic, a man who is often dismissed by others because of his drinking, but who still cares deeply about his community. This character reminded me of my own experiences with alcoholism. Like Da Mayor, I struggled with addiction, and while I tried to be helpful to others, I also harmed my community by walking around drunk, stealing to support my habit, and neglecting my responsibilities. Watching Da Mayor in the film, I saw the tension between his desire to be a good person and his struggle with addiction, and it mirrored my own experiences. Da Mayor’s quiet wisdom, his moments of courage—like when he saved a young boy from being hit by a car—resonated with me. In my own life, I had similar moments where I stepped in to help others, even though I was fighting my own battles with addiction.
When I entered prison, I went through a transformation. I began to take on roles similar to those of Mookie, Da Mayor, and even Smiley—the character who walks around trying to share wisdom and knowledge with others. In prison, I became someone that others turned to for guidance, protection, and support. I worked to defuse situations before they could escalate, preventing fights, assaults, and even rapes. I became a protector, not just for myself, but for others around me. Like Mookie, I tried to maintain peace and stability in an environment filled with tension and conflict.
As I reflected more deeply on the film, I began to see myself in almost every character. Pino, Sal’s son, was someone I also related to at one point in my life. Pino is openly racist, expressing disdain for the Black community that his family’s pizzeria serves. His racism creates tension between him and his father, who takes pride in his Black customers and respects Mookie as an employee. Like Pino, I once held deeply ingrained prejudices. I hated white people, especially those in positions of power, like the correctional officers in prison. My anger and resentment mirrored Pino’s hatred, and it caused tension in my relationships with others. But over time, just like Pino’s younger brother Vito, who is more open-minded and accepting, I began to change. My family helped me see beyond my anger, and I realized that I didn’t have to be defined by hatred. I could be more than just angry—I could be compassionate, understanding, and open to change.
In prison, I took on many roles, much like the characters in Do the Right Thing. I was sometimes like Buggin’ Out, challenging authority and standing up against systemic injustices. Other times, I was like Mookie, trying to keep the peace while navigating the complexities of my environment. I even organized protests and spiritual gatherings, bringing people together to fight for justice and equality. I created spaces where people of all backgrounds could come together to share their experiences and learn from one another.
Do the Right Thing resonated with me because it reflects the complexities of life—both inside and outside of prison. It shows that we all carry multiple identities and traits within us, and that our experiences shape who we are. The film’s portrayal of racial tension, systemic injustice, and the struggle for identity mirrored my own journey as I fought to find my place in a world that often felt hostile and unforgiving. Like the characters in the film, I had to navigate the tensions between anger and compassion, resistance and peace, in order to find a sense of purpose and identity in the midst of chaos.