Mr. T has taken a moment to explain his tardiness, emphasizing that he does not wish to apologize for it. He asserts, “You caught me in my devotion, and nothing comes before God. Therefore, I won’t say I’m sorry for being late. I just want you to understand that God is my priority, and I attribute my success to Him.”
The purpose of his appearance is to promote the new Netflix documentary titled “Untold Mr T: I Pity the Fool.” At the age of 74, Mr. T seldom engages in interviews, but when he does, he is unreserved in expressing his thoughts. Today, he candidly critiques the very project he is here to discuss, showcasing his honesty.
The actor, former wrestler, and cultural icon remains a surprising figure in the entertainment industry. Notably, he reflects on the fact that he has maintained his fame despite a significant passage of time—over three decades since his last wrestling match, 35 years since a prominent acting role on television, 39 years since he portrayed BA Baracus in “The A-Team,” and 44 years since his appearance in “Rocky III.” Yet, he continues to be recognized as a household name.
During the 1980s, many children aspired to emulate Mr. T. “The A-Team,” a globally broadcast action-adventure series about a group of former U.S. Army commandos turned mercenaries, became a defining show of the era.
Initially, the show was set to be led by movie star George Peppard, but Mr. T’s character, BA (Bosco Albert or Bad Attitude, depending on one’s preference), quickly overshadowed him. BA Baracus was known for his mechanical skills, formidable combat abilities, and distinctive appearance, characterized by his African Mandinka-style haircut and prominent gold chains. While there are similarities between the character and Mr. T himself, there are also stark differences.
Born Lawrence Tureaud, Mr. T’s early life was marked by hardship on the south side of Chicago. His father, a minister, left the family when Lawrence was just five years old, leaving his mother, Willie, to raise their twelve children primarily through her work as a cleaner and assistance from welfare. He was affectionately nicknamed Little T by his siblings. Growing up, he faced the harsh realities of everyday racism, which had a profound impact on him, particularly the disrespect his family experienced from many white individuals.
At the age of 18, he adopted the name Mr. T. “Let me clarify that,” he explains. “Every decision I make has its reasons. I observed my father and uncle being called ‘Boy,’ and I even saw my brother, a marine, face the same disrespect upon returning from Vietnam. I felt that if I was old enough to fight for my country, I deserved respect as a man. So, I first self-ordained myself as Mr. T, and later legally changed my name, ensuring that the first word people would utter was ‘Mr.’
During our video call, Mr. T appears vibrant and energetic. He sports a stars-and-stripes bandana and a T-shirt that reads “Lord’s Gym,” featuring an illustration of Jesus lifting weights with a crucifix. His face, though less full than in his youth, is adorned with deep lines and laughter marks.
Mr. T embodies a blend of preacher, poet, and fighter. His speech rhythm, combined with his wit and wisdom, might remind one of Muhammad Ali. However, throughout the years, he has often been mischaracterized as merely a muscular brute. He asserts that if he were truly that one-dimensional, his mother would have disapproved.
Reflecting on his school years, he admits that while he admired his older brothers’ toughness and aspired to be a successful athlete, his primary goal was to excel academically, a value instilled in him by his mother. She shared the story of Frederick Douglass, who learned to read while enslaved, and how his master forbade it, fearing that education would lead to freedom.
When asked about his studies, he reveals, “I focused on philosophy and theology. A teacher once dismissed my choices, saying there’s no money in those fields. I responded, ‘Sir, that’s disrespectful. Not everyone values money above all else.’ They didn’t take the time to understand who I am.” I mention that this is the first I’ve heard of his academic pursuits, and he responds, “That’s the issue. I’ve shared this with journalists before, but they often overlook it. I grew up in poverty, but I was rich in spirit. I never resorted to crime; I never stole or harmed anyone.”
By the age of 15, he was a distinguished athlete, often mistaken for an adult bodybuilder. However, he faced ridicule from his peers. “In the ghetto, despite my achievements in sports, the local toughs labeled me a sissy. Why? Because I chose not to commit crimes,” he exclaims passionately. “I was mocked for listening to my mother, for valuing education, and for doing my homework. Many of those who ridiculed me are now incarcerated or deceased. They didn’t amount to anything. As the Bible states, ‘Unless two agree, they cannot walk together.’ I promised my mother I would succeed and provide her a better life, while they had no direction.”
In these moments, he evokes a presence reminiscent of Samuel L. Jackson’s character Jules from “Pulp Fiction,” though Mr. T’s biblical references are authentic and emphasize love and compassion.
