For kids who grew up in the 90s in Burundi (like me), every day was pretty much consumed with war and the ethnic baggage it brought. Again, it’s not like any of us had a choice. We were born into it.

The scene I’m talking about is the one that opens the trailer, where we see a stormtrooper with his helmet off, looking out into the distance with fear in his eyes. Oh yeah, and he’s black.

I think, somewhere, there’s a place where Questlove and that woman in the elevator have something in common: patriarchy tells them both they ain’t shit.

Stuck between a rock and a hard place, I still celebrate the choice to make Trevor Noah the next host of The Daily Show. But I also know that this choice came with strings that tug against the Black American experience.