To Tracee, Issa & Donald for Being Our Mirrors

"If you want to make a human being into a monster, deny them, at the cultural level, any reflection of themselves." 

–Junot Diaz

Something magical happened yesterday, people making art that reflected their authentic experiences were rewarded for doing just that. I don’t care about award shows because I think they’re really boring but I do care about people winning awards for art that speaks to me and the people I care about.

While debriefing about the numerous Black folk wins at the Golden Globes with my office mates one of them shared that he’d been waiting his whole life for a show like Atlanta. Can we just let that sink in? I actually almost burst into tears when he said it. He had to wait until he was well into adulthood for a show that actually reflected his experience in the world. Later while I was hashing out the details of a letter of rec one of my students asked me to submit for her, I asked where she heard about the study abroad program she’d be applying for and she explained that it was part of another program she attends. The name of the program triggered a memory from Issa Rae’s book The Misadventures of Awkward Black Girl. When I shared with her that this was the same program that Issa Rae attended as a teen a HUGE smile spread across her face. “I love her! That’s so cool!” 

Luckily, she doesn't have to wait well into her adulthood to see someone that looks like her and shares her experience in media.

I never watched Girlfriends. Tracee Ellis Ross came to me through a short-lived sit-com on BET called Reed Between the Lines. A Cosby-like 30 minute comedy about a Black family headed by a two professional household, a professor stay-at-home dad and a Psychologist mom. That’s when I started to pay attention to this funny, passionate, eloquent, powerhouse woman in the media.

Just a few weeks ago I sat down and watched an episode of television that actually reflected my racial experience and I was stunned. On Blackish Rainbow Johnson took us on her journey of identity as a multiracial Black woman and it was perfect. I had always struggle with the way multiracial people were portrayed in media. Tragic, sad and confused. Apparently split between two worlds even though everyone knows there isn’t really a “choice ” and if there is it’s between mixed and Black, not White and Black. That episode of Blackish weaved all of this into Rainbow's experiences. Her awkward attempts at being a part of Black communities in college, her upset at Junior dating a White girl and her confiding in her dad to find a deeper understanding of her identity. Not tragic, not confused (although many of the other characters wanted to deem her as such) just her authentic nuanced experience of racial identity. Unfortunately, growing up my multiracial experience being reflect in media this wasn’t available to me.

I remember watching two scenes as a pre-teen from two separate movies that had a powerful influence on my identity and what I could imagine for my life. The first was a scene from the amazing 90’s Rom Com Object of My Affection. Jennifer Anniston all 90’s jeans and Rachel hair heads out of her NYC apartment after taking the bus and walking down busy streets and into a community center. The next scene is her sitting with a group of Black teen girls and talking about sex and relationships. I had to be 11 or 12 when I saw this and I instantly knew that I wanted that life. I wanted to live in a city and sit around supporting young women in their development. The second is a scene from another 90’s classic The Other Sister starring Juliet Lewis as a young woman with a developmental disability (pretty problematic in general). But the scene I remember vividly was one where the mom calls one of Julietee Lewis’ sisters in the middle of the night. When the sister picks of the (corded!) phone and turns on the light you can see a woman’s body sleeping next to her. There was something inside me even at that young age that knew this was what I wanted my life to look like.

In both of this instances there was something missing. Those women didn’t look like me, their families didn’t look like mine and they certainly didn’t come from the same place (location or socio-economic place). When I saw the trailer for Insecure just a few months ago I couldn’t believe that someone doing non-profit work with kids was the main character of a show. Main characters of shows are always lawyers or doctors or PR execs. Most people don’t give a shit about what I do, I share a quick one liner at parties and people’s eyes glaze over as if to let me know that my work is “cute” but not grown-up or interesting enough to warrant any more of their time. Here was a young Black woman making a show where part of the continual plot was working in non-profit with crazy kids that you simultaneously love and are infinitely annoyed by.

To the majority of the US these TV shows and movies may seem like niche pieces that are an interesting look at other people’s experiences. But for me and my community Blackish, Atlanta, Hidden Figures (full post about this indescribably amazing film coming soon), Fences, Moonlight and Insecure are giving us something we’ve been waiting our whole lives for, validation and a mirror to reflect back to us and let us know we are not alone our experience.

Thank you for remind us that we are not monsters without a reflection, that we are human beings worthy of our stories not only being told but celebrated.