One major question I’ve been asking myself recently is whether having POC faces on screen really equals representation of POC people? I mean, there have been countless stereotypical or fear mongering depictions of people of various identities in the past (not just POC). They certainly weren’t presented as “good” models to look towards. But nowadays, more and more POC are turning up on the silver screen, be it for an indie film or a Hollywood showing.
Recent outcry for more people of various identities— POC, LGBTQ+, disabled, etc.— has led to an increase in the amount of people with such identities on the screen and a decrease in stereotypical presentations in some aspects. Yet, there’s still much work to be done. The media needs to go “beyond face value”— that is, beyond simply putting more faces out there.
Going beyond face value means, yes, allowing more people of various identities (not just POC) to play more roles but also allowing more of them into the crews, the writing rooms, the advertising. It’s also more than just “more.” Face value is in the numbers, but beyond that is the quality of the work put in. There has been an increase in the number of POC people on screen, sure, but how many have become iconic since Black Panther (2018) and Crazy Rich Asians (2018)? What about the depictions of people with disabilities beyond Shape of Water(2017)? Are their names and faces forgettable? Are they not given that much agency in the story compared to other protagonists who are likely white and able-bodied? How many of these new actors were placed in roles for, it seems, “diversity’s sake” rather than them actually being able to play the role they’re meant to do? How does this then reflect on the community?
I don’t need to prattle on about why representation— proper, holistic, multifaceted representation with the good, the bad, and the so-so— in media is important. Post-Birth of a Nation (1915), it’s been clear how much the silver screen can influence history, attitudes, perceptions of the self, and more. So here, I ask that we move beyond simple representation in numbers.
i just finished watching this film & i loved it! i think old movies like this may be my new addiction honestly. it follows the story of christie love, an undercover detective in her persuit to bust a large group of drug dealers. though it’s quite sad at times, it’s more upbeat than it sounds i promise. or maybe it’s just because the visual effects don’t look too realistic so i’m desensitised to it.
anyway, i loved how christie (played by teresa graves) was so confident and fiery! and so charming. i also like the main ‘couple’ that consisted of christie & mr.reardon (they’re not together but it’s heavily implied). it’s a movie from the 1970s so it reflects that era; christie, the main black character, is called the n slur by a white male while working undercover, so please mind that.
i’m just happy to see a vintage film starring a black woman that isn’t about her being victimised constantly. i very much enjoyed it! 🎀
Black Motherhood in A Thousand and One (2023) & The Women of Brewster Place (1989)
[SPOILERS!!! TW: SA, Familial Abandonment]
Inez (mother) & Terry (son)
Fresh out of jail, Inez befriends a quiet foster kid, Terry, on the block she does hair at. When he ends up in the hospital, Inez falsely claims to be his mother before showering him with care and toys. Eventually, Inez abducts the kid to raise him on the run. For years, they lived together on the fringes of society, skirting around the government. As Terry approaches adulthood, he discovers Inez isn't his biological mother, leaving him with mixed emotions. Yet, he can’t help but call her mother because she was one to him. When Inez is questioned about her motivations, she says she took him because she, herself was in foster care, and though she didn’t know how to be a mother, she wanted to have him grow up to be somebody. Seeing as Terry got into a good school, got in little trouble, has various options to choose from, and more, she felt as though she won against the system that brought her to her miserable standing in life. In the end, it’s hard for Terry and probably the audience to really be mad at Inez. Terry probably would have been worse off if she never came for him in the hospital. It’s easy to see the love that Terry holds for his “mother” at the end of the movie when he cries while he helps her escape from the government who have found out about the abduction and are looking to jail her again.
It’s an unconventional story about motherhood, but it’s one about figuring out how to mother without ever having one. It’s also a critique on the “angry black hood woman” caricature because while Inez does fall into the Sapphire stereotype, she’s given humanity. There were several instances in raising Terry where she resorted to harsh words and physical punishment to teach him lessons, often flip-flopping between good and bad moods depending on what life is currently throwing at her. Over time, even when she does “calm down,” she’s still seen by the men around her as being too miserable looking and in dire need of a lesson on being quieter. Yet, Inez’ anger always stems from something— or someone— making her life harder. Her anger and frustration are understandable.
Mattie (mother) & Basil (son)
Mattie wasn’t planning to have a baby. Curiosity and repressed desire led to that not quite consensual encounter. Her parents weren’t planning on it either, being Christian and devout. When Mattie refused to reveal the baby’s dad to her father, he beat her to the ground until his wife fired a shotgun near his head for laying a hand on his baby. Mattie left home with a shamed heart and a little yellow suitcase. She stayed at a boarding house where she worked at a hair salon down the street until a little after her baby was born. Mattie experienced intense separation anxiety with her baby, Basil, not quite trusting anyone to look after him and always trying to make him happy. When a rat bites him, Mattie leaves the boarding home with a frantic heart, a little yellow suitcase, and a baby on her hip. She’s turned away from several doors for either being a mother— “We don’t take children”— or being black— “There is no vacancy, I just forgot to take the sign down.” It wasn’t until she encountered a little old lady, Ms. Eva, where she was invited to stay in her place for free, Basil getting a playmate in Lucile, Ms. Eva’s granddaughter, as well. Mattie doesn’t always do what’s best for Basil, always avoiding upsetting him too much. As such, she doesn’t give him his own bed as he grows older saying he’s too scared of the dark. When Ms. Eva dies and Lucile leaves, Mattie takes on the house and continues to raise Basil there until he’s a teen. When Basil kills a man he felt no remorse over killing— “he’s better off [in social standing] than me”— and breaking an officer’s arm as he resisted arrest, Mattie doesn’t lecture him on his lack of care. She just hears his plea that he wants out of jail because he hated the food, the beds weren’t good, and several other factors. He only complains about his life in jail to Mattie and doesn’t stay to talk to her at all when she visits, simply telling her he wants out before leaving. Mattie puts their house on the line to bail him out, but he still needs to go to the preceding. Basil, after tasting freedom again, doesn’t want to go back and feels he’s not going to have a chance at keeping his freedom, so he bounces without a goodbye leaving Mattie. With a broken heart and her little yellow suitcase, Mattie moves once more to Brewster Place. She can’t speak Basil’s name or talk about what happened.
Mattie’s tale is of a mother who sacrificed much for her child, only to be scorned in the end with a lack of understanding for her sacrifice. In trying to make the Basil happy all the time, he never understood even a modicum of hardship and avoided pain, fear, and other negative emotions like the plague. He learned he could get anything from his mother be it a few dollars to go to a movie and the bail out of jail with enough niggling. If Inez was the mother focused on what the kid needs, Mattie was the one focused on what the kid wants. In both instances, it backfires.
Cora Lee (mother) & Her Seven Kids
Cora Lee is the caricature of a welfare queen, humanized. As a little girl, she always loved her baby dolls and would get a new one each Christmas. The old ones never felt as nice as the new ones. When she grew older, she took this logic into consideration over her own kids. She loves when they’re babies, small, helpless, not talking back. But not so much when they’re older and refuse to listen much. She calls them dumbasses and knuckle heads. She uses passive aggression to try to guilt them into doing what she wants and direct commands in an attempt to strike fear in them. They often go awry. Also, after so many kids, she doesn’t deem every scrape, bump, and bruise they get to be much of an event, particularly when she tells them not to do the thing that earned them that mark of dishonor. Cora Lee feels like her kids are hopeless because of their bad grades and worse behavior. It’s not until Kiswana invites her and her kids to the local Shakespeare play that Cora Lee gets any hope for their situation. The kids are well behaved once Kiswana comes and all the people at Brewster place stare in astonishment at them all dressed up nice and behaving well as they walk over. The play itself was a success too. Midsummer Night’s Dream was adapted to include dancing, music, lights, costumes, and effects that left the audience jiving in their seats and engrossed. By the end, one of Cora Lee’s kids asked if Shakespeare was black to which she responds that he isn’t, not yet. It’s implied that this child may go on to be a playwright or into theatre from this encounter. Cora Lee is practically beaming after being given this chance to see her kids at all ages in a new light.
Kiswana (daughter) & Her Mother
This relationship between mother and daughter is one of miscommunication. Kiswana, or Melanie, feels as though her mother is ashamed of being black and tries to distance herself from that heritage as much as possible. From her mother’s words, it’s possible to think so. She feels that Brewster place isn’t safe— which it isn’t, there are gangs hanging around— and that her daughter should at least have a phone so that her mother and father have a line to reach her. Kiswana, however, hates that the two stopped loving each other in her eyes and more than that, wants to work towards getting a phone herself rather than ask them for money she feels isn’t hers. Kiswana’s mother is angered when she refuses and is accused of being ashamed of her heritage. She says that Melanie thinks that being black is in her curly hair, her skin tone, her name that she chose for herself, and all these other things. But, her mother chose her name because it was the name of a woman in her family that stood up against several white men with a gun to save her husband who had no business doing what he did, but she loved him anyways and stayed strong. She also told her of her other ancestors who didn’t know the meaning of quit and strived for better and better right up until herself. Their cushy house in Linden Hills was a hard fought achievement. Their straight hair, relaxed by perms and the way they dressed and the color of their skin didn’t matter because to her mother, black is black. Being a mother simply meant doing what was best for her child, making sure that her kids were never ashamed of however they looked or whoever they were.
This story demonstrates a lack of communication between mother and daughter as much of this comes out of frustration with the other and finally sitting down to talk about things. I feel like clearer communication between the two on their feelings over their heritage would have sparked more understanding on both of their sides. I don’t think it would have solved all their problems— the mother was really upset over Melanie dropping out of college— but it would have been a start in the right direction.
Lucile (mother) & Serena (daughter)
Lucile spends a great deal of time with Serena while her husband, Eugene, is away doing goddess knows what. When he comes back, Lucile is overjoyed and tries to do anything so that he doesn’t leave again. When she gets pregnant again, she gets and abortion after he gets upset. She looses his job, she offers to pick up another which he also hates— probably because he’s supposed to be the provider but he keeps running into trouble in the pursuit of that. When he expresses his displeasure over Serena getting more attention than him— when she is a baby that needs to be frequently watched and cared for, which he doesn’t seem to understand— Lucile tries to pay more attention to him. Eventually, she tries to make him happy and prevent his leaving so much, the dominos fall on her baby girl. When Eugene comes home to see Mattie and Lucile playing with Serena, he shoos Mattie off and says that Serena could stay right where she is when Mattie offers to take her. Lucile, wanting to please him, agrees and Mattie leaves. Eugene tells Lucile he’s found a job but refuses to give her many details on it. They wind up going to the other room, leaving Serena alone and unwatched. As Eugene refuses to say where he’s going, that he doesn’t want to take the baby and Lucile with him, and that their love isn’t enough to make him stay… Serena, who’d picked up a pair of shiny scissors spotted a cockroach in the wall outlet. Eugene didn’t show up to her funeral. Lucile became catatonic, a deep depression that Mattie needed to coax her out of. Lucile left soon after, taking her clothes and bedspread with her without a goodbye.
This story serves as a warning. Getting hung up on a man who was so upset with their situation, believing Lucile to only be good for “babies and bills” as he states, led to the loss of one of the most precious things to her— Serena’s life. In trying to make her partner stay, to the protest of Mattie who saw much of this situation going down hill and tried to offer advice, Lucile forgot to put her child first. Eugene is also at fault here, of course. A father who refuses to act like one— job or not— and a partner that refuses to stay because of his own discomfort, only ever running away when things don’t go well is essentially useless. Both are supposed to stay for their love and their child through thick and thin. Not doing so has negative consequences on everyone involved and then to not have remorse over it??? Good riddance. While both are at fault, the lesson here is to put ones child first. In my opinion, as well, if the man don’t know how to stay, he doesn’t need to be there in the first place. That’s a lot of going in an out of a child’s life and that instability causes more issues than it solves.
Lorraine (daughter) & Her Mother
Lorraine was kicked out of her house because of her sexuality when she was a teen. Since then, she worked her way through college, found purpose in being a teacher, and met her current partner, Theresa (woman in blue in above picture) where the two had a lovely place in Linden Hills. Or several years, Lorraine would send Christmas cards to her parents, still hoping that they loved her. They’d be returned to her until she stopped putting a return address on them. She assumes they may have threw the cards in the fire. Her parents’ abandonment, especially her mother’s really struck when she tried calling home one day and her mother hung up the phone upon learning it was her daughter on the other end. Her fear of judgment and what being different meant leads to several issues in accepting her own sexuality and the struggles that LGBTQ+ people face in the world. She denies her difference at every turn and gets paranoid and fearful at any rumors that circulate around about her and Theresa, wherever they moved. Lorraine feels wholly uncared for. Later, she’s sexually assaulted by one of the gang members looking to make her right by showing her what a real man is like and make her never look at another woman again. Lorraine is left broken and hysterical in the back alley. When people attempt to help her, she swats them all away with a wood plank she pick up. One unfortunate person was beaten possibly to death because he approached her too quick— it was the man who had a lesbian daughter and comforted Lorraine when she was being discriminated against.
I don’t think I need to expand on this one— in fact it’s hard for me to, I’m lucky I wasn’t thrown out or something. My sexuality just isn’t accepted as a fact.
People ragged so hard on this movie. I get it. It was a hard watch that I can't quite fully stomach today. But, at the same time, it's stuck with me like the icky taste in my mouth it was supposed to be. It was a horror movie. Just not in the sense people tend to define horror. It made me feel that same acute sense of powerlessness that I am so lucky to be born without encountering on a day to day basis due to the efforts of many before me.
In my opinion, the point of the movie was a critique on the time without spelling it out to the audience in bright bold letters and attaching Trump's name to it. Also that when you're successful in your work and you're black, that you still aren't safe. The movie doesn't need to be cheesy and say it outright.
While there was great whiplash between the two periods in the film-- and honestly, could have been streamlined a lot more-- I understand what it was trying to say through show, not tell.
“Stand Up” - Official Music Video - Performed by Cynthia Erivo - HARRIET…
If you have not seen the movie about Harriet Tubman I recommend it. Now, it is not historically accurate in a lot of it, like although her husband was born a free slave he was much older than her and always tried to keep her from running. He actually threatened to turn her in if she tried, so she snuck out of his bed and ran to her freedom. Also, the parts hinting about some underlined relationship between her and her young master, I can only assume was for entertainment purposes. But the parts about her helping the slaves was pretty spot on. Yes she was even an unofficial officer in the war, though she was never paid or officially acknowledged for it. If you don’t know the history of this woman there are true documentaries you can watch and many authentic books chronicling her life and how much of a bad ass she really was. Anyway, the point of this post is this, if you don’t care to see the movie you must … YOU MUST get this song. I swear when I hear it I want to find some oppressed people and help them to freedom. My God, my God, it is so inspiring. Cynthia Erivo, KILLED IT!! If it does not win an Oscar I shall never watch the Oscars again.
I was originally going to make this post centered around mothers and mothering, but I just had to share my disbelief over these two situations.
When I told my friends that I needed to watch Hidden Figures (2016) for a class, their responses were "Oh I'm so sorry" and "I wouldn't wish that on anyone" and "Mmm, not for me. Good luck with that." I was shocked. What was so wrong with the movie? When I asked, they answered that it was far too dramatic. I questioned them on why they thought this way to which they didn't really have an answer besides the scene about the bathroom... which isn't a true aspect of the real story-- as I've researched-- but a true thing in many other colored peoples' experiences at the time. They knew of this, but I don't think they actually understood the realities of "Separate but Equal." It was a dramatic scene, but it was no different than another character standing their ground in any other film. How was this the only scene they remembered? How were these black women being reduced to their (completely justifiable) anger?
On a lesser discussed point, I recall several instances while watching Queen Charlotte: A Bridgerton Story (2023) where I needed to explain to my non-black friends what was happening and why I got riled up over certain scenes. Most notably, was the scene where the Queen met Charlotte for the first time. In it, the queen asks to see Charlotte's teeth and hands. My friends were confused about this, asking why she'd do that. I had to explain, albeit from an American perspective the reasoning-- those in servitude didn't have the luxury of having unmarred, perfect hands or good dental hygiene. In America, slaves could potentially be distinguished by these factors and here, it's probably a display of power and to make sure she's not really poor-- that she's truly a proper lady. I felt kind of dismissed when they dryly said they hadn't known about that and asked no further questions or reacted to the new information at all. They just seemed uncomfortable.
Some of these issues are only known about in theory or not really known at all in larger society, it seems. These were stories I've seen and been reminded of countless times growing older alongside instances of women drowning their babies so they wouldn't know the horrors of the slave trade, the separation of families at the drop of a hat, forced sexual encounters, the tensions between in house and field slaves, so on and on. Had I taken my knowledge to be everyone's knowledge? Has anyone really taken the time to watch such movies or know such atrocities? If we can show the despicable nature of the Holocaust-- something America didn't cause-- how come we can't let the horrors of slavery-- and Japanese Internment for that matter-- be known and UNDERSTOOD by the general populace? Facts take on so much more life when you have stories to go along with them.
Chewing Gum (2016) and Insecure (2016) are possibly the mark of the rise of the “awkward black girl” in media— a woman who’s trying their best to reach their goals with several bumps in the road towards them and fumbles on her part. Yet, there’s several cracks in the concrete where flowers bloom and the fumbles are able to be set right most of the time.
Two women— Michaela Coel and Issa Rae, respectively— wrote the shows based on their own experiences moving throughout the world in the UK and the US. They also both act as the main leads in the shows, taking on the life of the characters they’ve made the story revolve around. In this way, fiction blends with fact to create an autobiographical collage. They are both encapsulations of these women's’ experiences living in the world. This is, of course not to say that their experiences speak for all. There is no such a perfect depiction that touches all bases.
What strikes me most about these series, though, is the reality that these stories can be anybody's stories just walking down the street. They're different from the silliness of 90s sitcoms or the delulu of Tyler Perry dramas. It feels, to me, closer to an everyday normal... Perhaps there's something to these new autobiographical collage works. Maybe we'll get more in the future
Just because a film or show is different from what’s usually depicted as “the black experience” with struggle and hardship and fight, that doesn’t necessarily make it bad! One doesn’t need a slew of microaggressions and instances of racism in order for the media to be “accurate.” These times-- battles swift and fierce and wars long and drawn out-- do happen. Of course they happen. I look back sometimes on certain instances and think, “Wow, was that because I’m black/female/queer/non-religious/southern? Am I over thinking it?” But that’s not a 24/7 issue for me-- and I recognize my privilege in saying that.
If I exist-- if several of my friends exist-- even in predominantly white upper class academia, is it so wrong to not necessarily want to see these depictions of struggle in every episode or few minutes for the sake of "relatability?" Even if my life is like this, do I not deserve a depiction of a safe space because that's not my "reality?"
It’s OK to have black characters be OK! It’s refreshing to see black people— black women— on screen being OK. They’re not in a situation where they are facing depression, the system that’s against them, a prick in a coffee shop, an unfaithful partner, or other typical depictions. Sometimes, it’s just nice picturing a place free of it all or with little of it to creep in. I would like to see more safe spaces.
not to be a hater (but yeah to be a hater) shocker that the show with the black lesbian lead is cancelled and... The Other One gets renewed for two seasons
Plenty of fish in the sea, yet so few for me 🧜🏾♀️✨
Growing up, I used to latch onto any medium to dark colored magical character I saw, whether that was Aisha from Winx Club or Clawdeen Wolf from Monster High. There were so few of them already in animation and live action movies don’t fair any better. In fact, the only mainstream movies or shows with black people taking front and center as magical, mystical beings have been done by Disney. Once in 2005 with Twitches— and later Twitches Too (2007)—and recently in the making of Disney’s Little Mermaid (2023).
Mermaids were my absolute favorite creature growing up. From the moment I saw them— pretty tails, hair flowing in the water, and moving with power and grace— I wanted to be like them. In fact, it was probably depictions of mermaids that partially fed into my discomfort with my identity as a little black girl. I couldn’t swim like them because nobody was able to teach me how. I had kinky curly hair that never would flow the same when I’m in the water. I was too broken down from bullying in school to move with much confidence. I was no mermaid; I was not magical. I tried many times to find a black mermaid in media. I scoured through youtube, searching every few months to see if there were any. I watched several shows and movies— you could have gotten me to watch anything if you told me there were mermaids in it. But I always came up short. In a sea of oceanic beauties, I never found a single precious black pearl. I sought answers to this question of why there were no black beauties, never quite finding answers until I happened upon a forum one year where someone broke my question. There was a single answer that said black women’s skin was too dark in the water so cameras can’t pick it up. That our hair didn’t flow as beautifully. That we’d look more like monsters than something beautiful and kind.
Fast Forward to 2023, Halle Bailey— a black actress with a beautiful voice, supported by Beyonce herself— stars as Ariel in the new Little Mermaid remake, her hair deadlocked and beautiful. I cried when I first got the announcement over this casting decision.
I'd found a black pearl.
There are so few instances where black women are allowed to be magical beings without being shoved to the side. Even here, with the Little Mermaid, we were shoved into a role that was originally for a character who was unmistakably white— this goes for Tinkerbell in the Peter Pan remake as well, Peter Pan & Wendy (2023). Why are we never given our own roles to be magical on our own? Why must we fight for spaces in geeky, nerdy, fantastical, and magical?
I hope to see more stories that have black magical girls— and women—within them on the screen. I would love to see us in high fantasy, urban fantasy, science fiction, and otherwise. I want them to be the protagonist. I want them to experience love and joy as much as they experience hardship. I want the people going forward to be able to see that black girls really can be magical. That my color, my hair, my level of confidence— my race— doesn’t affect my ability to wield the fantastical.
