Will Smith has always been one of my favorites. I interviewed and hung out with him several times over the course of my career. He was one of my first assignments. As a young intern, I covered the Live 8 concert in our mutual hometown of Philadelphia. I was incredibly nervous and he welcomed me with a warm embrace, immediately putting me at ease. I brought two of my best friends with me to the party he hosted and he was equally inviting to them. Every time I’m asked who the nicest celebrities are, he’s at the top of my list. Up until last night, he remained there.

For those of you that aren’t aware, last night at the Oscars while presenting an award, comedian Chris Rock made a crack about Jada Pinkett Smith’s shaved head. “Jada, I love ya. G.I. Jane 2, can’t wait to see it.” Will laughed. His wife did not.

Moments later, Will walked onto the stage and slapped a stunned Chris. Many thought it was a bit. Sadly, it was not. He walked back to his seat and proceeded to yell not once, but twice, “Get my wife’s name out of your f*cking mouth,” as rage overtook his face and the room fell quiet.

Not long after, Will won his first-ever Academy Award. Many were predicting he’d win, a thought that was met with both approval and excitement. He’d been snubbed twice before and the Oscars has faced backlash for years for not recognizing Black actors. It should’ve been a momentous night. And it was. But for all the wrong reasons.

I, like much of the world (and all of Twitter), was in shock. I stayed up far too late and woke up equally early still upset about it. Not because I personally knew him, but because we all feel like we do. As 80’s and 90’s kids, he came into our living room. We bobbed our heads, as teens and twenty-something’s, to Men In Black. We sobbed our way through Philadelphia and delighted in his interview with Oprah, in which he declared if Jada wasn’t it, he was done. As parents, we appreciate his profanity-free raps. And thirty years later, we can still recite the theme song from the show that made him famous.

He was likeable. Comfortable. Charming. Kind. And funny. Last night, that changed. Which is perhaps why it’s all so confusing. Kanye would’ve been in cuffs. But the Fresh Prince sat front row. One, because he was nominated and has never caused a ruckus. But the argument can also be made that, in the eyes of the white community, Will is gentrified. Safe. Then he committed assault thirty minutes before winning and accepting the most coveted award in acting. And the audience gave him a standing ovation.

He was visibly shaken. Whether it was because of the altercation or the accolade is unclear. But he started his speech by saying, “Richard Williams was a fierce defender of his family.” It was a reference to the role he played in King Richard, a biopic about the controversial coach and father of Venus and Serena Williams. Other attendees hollered in support. Moments later, some even laughed at his line about life imitating art.

He went on to apologize to the Academy and other nominees, but not Rock. He said he wants to be a “vessel of love” and that God is calling on him to love his people. He also said that to be in this business, you’re expected to take abuse.

To be fair, it wasn’t the first time Chris Rock made a disparaging remark about Will’s wife. In 2016, he scoffed at her boycotting the same show (for it’s lack of support of the Black community), saying she wasn’t even invited. He did so with a crude comment likening it to him not being invited into “Rihanna’s panties.”

Jada revealed last year that she suffers from alopecia, an autoimmune disorder that causes bald spots and hair loss, making the insult especially sensitive. And, disease or not, it’s 2022. Why are we still commenting on women’s appearances?

The Smiths have long been the target of media speculation and fodder about their marriage. Is it open or not? Did she cheat? Are they separated? With Will’s nomination and extensive round of press, there’s been another wave of attention. It’s got to be exhausting, humiliating and infuriating. And had it remained "just words" Will's expletives and outburst, while inappropriate, may have been justified. But the assault set it over the edge.

If it had been a female presenter, Will would’ve been escorted out. Perhaps even arrested. But male on male violence should be taken just as seriously. The fact that they’re both Black perpetuates a stereotype and sets their community back. And his selfish, impulsive and short-sided action further ignites and incenses others of all races, ages and genders. It promotes toxic masculinity. It shows our children that violence sometimes is the answer. That it’s tolerated if you’re powerful and, otherwise, widely respected. That the same rules don’t apply to everyone. Notions that are even more dangerous in these troubling times. We’ve made considerable progress over the last few years and it’s hard not to feel like it was all just blown up by our trusted friend and champion.

It’s upsetting that what should have been a celebratory night was sullied. Other achievements and historical moments were overshadowed. It was the first time an openly queer actor won one of the four major acting awards. The first time a woman has won Best Director two years in a row. The first time three women have hosted and only the second and third WOC to hold that title. So many greats were memorialized. There were stunning performances and powerful speeches. And all anyone is talking about is the slap heard round the world. We’re all lesser for last night.