The Midlife

One of my favorite Theo Huxtable scenes on The Cosby Show

I’m checking my phone on Monday and learning of the tragic passing of Malcolm-Jamal Warner. This one stings deep for me, as The Cosby Show and MJW were staples throughout my formative years in the 80s.

Growing up Hispanic in a mostly white neighborhood and even less diverse Catholic school, I saw The Cosby Show as a window into the aspirational African-American family. The Huxtables were close-knit, fought and made up like other families, were early fashion icons, and models of higher education. Unlike earlier sitcoms featuring African-Americans, it was a departure from the scratchin’ and surviving (Good Times in the 70s), child-rescuing (Diff’rent Strokes), or house-keeping (Gimme a Break and Benson). It stood in a class by itself and so did Malcolm-Jamal Warner, whom we watched grow from a 14-year-old to an adult. As Theo Huxtable, he was America’s brother, equal parts sage and humorist, fighter, and protector, principles in tact.

Most recently, MJW starred on the medical drama, The Resident, as Dr. AJ Austin. He joined near the end of season one, and his performance as the confident/cocky and brilliant cardiothoracic surgeon, contrasted so much from what TV viewers had known. His bright smile, charisma drip, and booming voice cadence, captivated me as a viewer. He stole every scene.

MJW did more than act. He was a jazz musician and spoken-word poet. A husband and parent to a young daughter, whose identity he aimed to keep out of the public eye. He won a Best R&B Performance (2015) and was nominated for Best Spoken Word Poetry Album (2023) for his album Hidden in Plain View. He advocated for HIV/AIDs support and the black community. And the tributes spilling forth since he died painted a picture of an incredible human being, one that truly loved his mom.

MJW drowned while on vacation in Costa Rica with his family. I don’t want to think about him struggling or hurting. I don’t want to think about how crushed his family must be. When people say, “Life isn’t fair,” this situation comes to mind, full force: gut punch.

Rest in peace and power, MJW. I am saddened, but I am grateful for the gifts you left behind, the legacy. And while I can’t bring myself to read all the beautiful tributes and see the handsome pictures of your well-lived life cut too short, I know there will come a time when I want to rewatch a clip or scene from Cosby or watch a show of yours I may have missed. It’s good to know he is only a few clicks away.