On Saturday night, Mario Dewar Barrett was doing what he does best: giving a crowd his all. 

Performing “Crying Out for Me” at the Jack White Theatre inside Detroit’s Masonic Temple, the 39-year-old R&B singer stood at the edge of the stage in a leather vest and pants, serenading fans who had their phones raised to capture the moment.

But what happened next wasn’t about music. It wasn’t about fandom. It wasn’t cute. It wasn’t flirtation. It was sexual assault. And we need to name it as such. 

A Line Crossed — On Camera

In a TikTok video recorded from the front row, a woman visible in the clip slowly raises her hand — the one with a sparkly wedding ring — and grabs Mario’s crotch.

Not grazes. Not brushes past. Grabs.

Mario visibly stills for a beat, stops singing, and removes her hand. He appears to tell her, “Stop doing that, please.” Then, he steps back, composes himself, and continues the show.

Mario hasn’t made a public statement about the incident, but he wasn’t smiling. He wasn’t playing along. His body language was unambiguous: it was unwanted sexual contact.  

We as a society condemn groping when the victim is a woman — as we should. But too often, standards change when it happens to a man. Still, many people who’ve seen the clip online have pointedly condemned the woman’s actions.

“I really want these celebrities to start pressing charges on y’all,” Dwight Thomas, a licensed mental health professional, said in a video on Threads. “That is literally assault! That’s SA!” 

Several folks on social media also said Mario should have stopped the show and had her arrested.

The Hypersexualization of Black Men 

Others on social media, however, have laughed it off. They say Mario didn’t seem all that bothered — or they ignore the assault entirely, noting that his assailant was a married woman. Her husband, they say, is the real victim.

But the incident raises a deeper issue: how a society steeped in white supremacy would have us believe Black men are never victims and their humanity is always negotiable.

Years ago, Herbert Samuels, a sex educator and professor at LaGuardia Community College in New York, told former NPR reporter Farai Chideya that the perception predates slavery. 

“If you look at the history, and really going back to the mid-1500s or so and continuing on to slavery within the United States and even further than that,” he said, “Black men and women were said to be animalistic in their sexual desires — particularly Black men.” 

Indeed, American society has long promoted the view that Black men are always available, always willing, and always want sex. From childhood to adulthood, their bodies are seen as threatening and violent and less deserving of protection, sexually or otherwise.

And Black folks — constantly bombarded with racial stereotyping practically from birth — internalize this adultification bias and regurgitate it.  

“Some Black men have bought into the myth that they are hyper sexual, that their sexual prowess and the size, the physicality is greater than others,” Samuels noted. 

Clearly, some Black women do, too. So when a famous or powerful Black man is assaulted in plain sight, some folks respond with silence. Or jokes. Or a shrug.

The issue popped up earlier this year when “Power Book II” actor Michael Rainey Jr. was allegedly assaulted during a livestream by a woman who grabbed his crotch. Then, rapper 50 Cent appeared to make a joke about it and insisted Rainey was “fine.”

Some people might say that artists like Mario put on hypersexual shows, and often pull women from the audience to the stage for a lil’ bump-and-grind session. But those comments blame the victim, and ignore the consent women give when they’re invited on stage. 

Most artists, Mario included, are pretty careful about touching the woman involved, no doubt due to liability issues and thousands of witnesses. Molesting a woman or touching her private parts is rarely part of the deal.

Touching someone without consent is sexual violence — full stop. The idea that Black men always welcome sexual attention, or that they can’t be harmed by it, isn’t just wrong — it’s dangerous.

Mario handled the moment with grace and composure, but neither are substitutes for consent. Professionalism isn’t permission. His decision to continue the show shouldn’t distract us from the violation he endured. 

Sexual assault doesn’t vanish just because the victim is a man. Or famous. Or handsome. Or Black. 

It’s still assault.

If you or someone you know has been affected, call the National Sexual Assault Hotline at 1-800-656-4673.