With the Black Student Union (BSU) presenting “My Brother’s Keeper” themed events this month, it has caused me to really think about what that phrase really means to me in practice.

I hadn’t realized it, but I had actually heard the phrase before as a reference to the biblical story of Cain and Abel, Genesis 4:1-9. There are many different interpretations of the story of Cain and Abel, but I basically looked at it as Cain being jealous because God favored Abel’s sacrifices over Cain’s.

This really shouldn’t be a spoiler, but this jealousy that Cain becomes engulfed in is what ultimately leads to him slaying his brother, Abel. When God questions Cain about Abel’s whereabouts, he responds with “I know not: Am I my brother’s keeper?” and is eventually exiled to the Land of Wandering.

For most, the Cain and Abel story has grown to symbolize the unwillingness of people to accept responsibility for the welfare and whereabouts of those closest to them in relation and proximity.

I agree with this interpretation, but I will admit that as a human, this symbol is difficult to exercise on a daily basis, which means that there are plenty of moments in my life when even though I really want to be, I am not my brother’s keeper.

At least, not all of them.

This idea was proven to me after attending the BSU showing of the Academy Award winner for Best Picture, “Moonlight .”

Initially, I appreciated and enjoyed the film not only for its orchestral-inspired score and impressive cinematography, but because its exploration of black male homosexuality was more of an undertone and not the only theme.

The only issue with this thought-process is that it actually ostracizes black people who are a part of the LGBTQ+ community because it tells them that same-sex relations aren’t “normal” or “okay,” which is essentially the exact issue that “Moonlight” was highlighting.

I was told this very thing in the open discussion session that followed the film, and it caused me to reflect on my walk home.

A metaphorical mirror was seemingly pressed against me, and I was forced to confront questions concerning my stance on homosexuality and homophobia, which eventually led to the age-old question, “Am I really my brother’s keeper?”

I realized that it was wrong for me to praise a film about a black gay man for not being “too gay,” and most importantly, I recognized that if I truly wanted to be my brother’s keeper, I had to look out for the well-being and welfare of all of my brothers.

Because even if I was repelling the idea of being overtly homophobic as much as a white person disregarding being a racist, my implicit homophobia was certainly enough ammunition to enable others to be overt homophobes.

And even though my attempts at being my brother’s keeper may sometimes fail, I implore everyone to reflect as I did, and admit when they are wrong for the sake of others.