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The Quiet Civil Rights Movement of Television and Film

By Dustin Rowles | Posted Under Think Pieces | Comments (9)



martin-luther-king.jpg

Today is Martin Luther King, Jr. Day in America, and I thought it would make sense to take a moment and reflect upon the ways in which entertainment — and specifically TV and film — helped get us to where we are today. There are countless inspirational, courageous historical figures whose political, academic, and activist work have blazed a trail for African Americans in this country and made it possible for a black man to attain the highest office in the land. But this is not about Martin Luther King, or Rosa Parks, Booker T. Washington, Malcolm X, Frederick Douglass, or Sojourner Truth.

This is about “The Jeffersons.”

There is no question that Martin Luther King helped to create opportunities in this country for African-Americans — and, indeed, for all Americans. Through protest, self-sacrifice, and endurance, each generation has chipped away at the façade of institutional racism and individual prejudice. But to win the presidency two years ago, Barack Obama didn’t only need the votes of people of color and committed white allies — he needed the support of more than half of the country. He needed more than just tolerance or equality — he needed acceptance. He needed a lot of white people to see past the color of his skin and look at the content of his character.

And that’s where “The Jeffersons” comes in. And not just “The Jeffersons,” but also “Benson” and “Scrubs” and Bojangles and Halle Berry. We rag on pop culture a lot around here — it’s part of our mission statement. But when you really start to think about it, it was people like George Jefferson and JJ Walker and Will Smith and Jamie Foxx and Mr. T and Sidney Poitier and Oprah Winfrey and Morgan Freeman who enabled the change articulated by people like Martin Luther King and Booker T. Washington to finally, dramatically, come to pass. Yes, serious inequalities persist, and a lot of work still needs to be done. But even four years ago, how many of us thought we would live to see this day? As I think about what brought us here, and what can account for this great leap forward, I continue to come back to the seemingly small inroads made by individuals. Every time we saw a black character on television, this country’s collective prejudices were being ever so gently chipped away. Every time Denzel Washington took the lead in a blockbuster movie or Spike Lee directed a film or Richard Pryor sold out a venue, it was a challenge to that residue of prejudice, mistrust, and hate that had been retained over hundreds of years.

It wasn’t easy, of course. For decades, it was a pride swallowing siege. In the beginning, black America was presented on television and in film in ways that made white America comfortable in its racism: as caricatures, as Steppin’ Fetchits, as the help. But arguably those depictions, in and of themselves, were small victories. Artists like Hattie McDaniel honed their craft while trying to, as she put it in her Oscar acceptance speech in 1940, “Be a credit to [our] race and to the motion picture industry.” There is no question that blacks weren’t being depicted appropriately. But they were depicted, goddammit. And arguably, that was the first step toward change. The work of actors like Sydney Poitier in the 50s and 60s helped to widen and make concrete the impact of the burgeoning civil rights movement. At the same time, TV footage of police with nightsticks and hoses attacking lines of peaceful protestors underscored the brutality of the Jim Crow laws, and provided a dramatic counterpoint to the eloquence and composure of the protesters. In the 70s, shows like “Good Times” and “The Jeffersons” started to push further, with entire casts of black actors. These shows — as well as the ‘Blaxploitation’ films popular around the same period — still represented black life in a way that, for the most part, didn’t challenge white viewers much — characters were predominately poor, underemployed, or criminals, and they interacted with a host of stock stereotypes — hustlers, shady politicians, sassy women — and generally kept things light and humorous. But beneath the punchlines, the reality was that white America was gradually warming to the idea that The Jeffersons or The Evans’ weren’t that much different than “The Honeymooners;” just another working class family trying to get by.

“Good Times,” and other shows like “Benson,” ultimately made way for “The Cosby Show,” which depicted African-Americans in a way that a lot of whites had never seen before: As upper-class professionals. Not as a black family, but just as a family. “The Cosby Show,” of course, blew open the doors — and shows like “The Fresh Prince of Bel Air” and even “Family Matters” would follow, two shows about black families where race was rarely raised as an issue. Soon after, Oprah would become the most successful personality in America. Will Smith and Denzel Washington and Eddie Murphy started to take on leading man roles that had nothing to do with the color of their skin. At the same time, rap music was becoming mainstream, and the idea of targeting entertainment at a group based on race began to fall out of favor. “In Living Color” became popular, as did benign sitcoms like “Hanging with Mr. Cooper” and “The Jamie Foxx Show.” And over the last ten years, we’ve seen an increase in the kind of entertainment that might even be called “post-racial” — movies like Men in Black and Tropic Thunder, and shows like “Grey’s Anatomy” or “Scrubs,” or even “30 Rock” — that have exuberantly multiracial casts, and take on race as openly, thoughtfully and humorously as they handle most other issues. Racial prejudices still exist, of course, both in the real world and onscreen, but film and TV built around racist themes and iconography has, gratefully, become less and less common and less profitable.

So here’s my point: Today we celebrate the greatest civil rights advocate in the history of this country, two years after electing America’s first black president. Thanks in part to the acceptance and understanding fostered by music, movies and television, this country ended up electing a black president at a speed that no legislation or protest or speech could have predicted. As we celebrate all the people who got us here today, we should remember the thousands of black Americans who contributed to this simply by being who they were and sharing their talents. Every time white people saw an episode of “In Living Colour” or “Family Matters,” or listened to Ray Charles or Lauryn Hill or Etta James or Alicia Keys, or laughed at (and thought about) a sketch by Chris Rock or Dave Chappelle, and every time we watched Sidney Poitier act circles around his white cast mates, the ideology of difference took a blow. We’ve made political and economic inroads — and we still have far to go in those arenas. But these small, daily examples of interaction and integration add up to the fact that, today, Will Smith has a larger audience than MLK could’ve ever imagined. So on this momentous day, I say we owe it all to MLK and, in a small way, to Urkel, too.

This article, modified from its original form, was first published on Martin Luther King, Jr. Day in 2008.









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Comments

*raises glass*

Posted by: Blank at January 17, 2011 1:00 PM

shows like “The Fresh Prince of Bel Air” and even “Family Matters” would follow, two shows about black families where race was rarely raised as an issue.

Although it is worth noting that the single best episode of Fresh Prince is the one where Will and Carlton get stuck in jail and Uncle Phil has to go get them out of jail and then has to yell at the evil racist cops.

My point is that those shows didn't ignore the politics of race. They just sublimated them. Sometimes it came bubbling up to the surface. When it did, it was awesome.

Posted by: mightygodking at January 17, 2011 1:55 PM

This was really nice Dustin, made me tear up.

To quote Faulkner, "The poet's voice need not merely be the record of man, it can be one of the props, the pillars to help him endure and prevail."

Posted by: Mebe at January 17, 2011 2:29 PM

Wait ... this means the mail's not coming today, doesn't it?

*Looks out window at upright red flag on mailbox as single tear rolls down cheek*

Shit.

Posted by: , at January 17, 2011 2:44 PM

Speaking for myself, I owe Steve Urkel a kick in the balls.

Posted by: Jerry at January 17, 2011 2:48 PM

I don't know why, but things about some of those shows stick in my craw a little bit.

I mean, The Jeffersons and Good Times wouldn't have existed without Norman Lear to spin them off from All in the Family (itself an American version of a British sitcom), with the Jeffersons as the Bunkers' neighbors in Queens until they moved to the UES when George's business took off, and Florida Evans having been maid to Edith's cousin Maude Findlay (with Florida's family laterally retconned from Harlem to Cabrini Green in Chicago). Harriette Winslow was an elevator operator, then head of security at the Chicago Chronicle, then co-residents with Larry and Balki on Perfect Strangers before she and her husband were spun off into Family Matters.

Seems -- but only seems -- kind of lame (but sociologically understandable) that we as blacks are only palatable once we're trickled in through association with comfortably familiar white characters (Florida as a "typical" domestic -- I think of her relationship to Maude as somewhat evolved from the point of Mammy and Miss Scarlett from Gone With The Wind; at least George Jefferson was shown as being equal to Archie professionally and as a mirror-image comical bigot, and Harriette Winslow was shown to be every bit as working-class as Larry and Balki, if a lot sassier and worldlier). Diahann Carroll as Julia and the Huxtables feel like the only black characters created from whole cloth who didn't need to be "ushered in" with obligatory audience desensitization (though that proves Dustin's point in and of itself).

It's difficult for me to see shows like In Living Color and the shows it begat on UPN/WB (prior to the re-establishment of the Pretty White Kids With Problems genre) exclusive of Everybody Hates Chris differently from Spike Lee; which is to say, as steps backward in depicting African American lives more than fodder for minstrelsy designed to keep two generations of black actors working (see: Bamboozled, which is oddly disappointing, but as Dustin mentioned, while not all the way "there," things are certainly further along than they were in the late sixties, to say nothing of the 1940s.

Posted by: Jerry at January 17, 2011 3:30 PM

I may have posted this before. If you've read it already, then please forgive me.


Last year I went on a road trip with my father. He had had a liver transplant a few months previously, and was finally well enough to travel again after almost three years of medical hell.

We were going to drive from Florida back to my place in LA, after which he'd take a flight back. However, the first day of the trip we hit and killed a deer in Georgia. The body shop said it would take a week to fix, which meant two, and my father was all set to just give up and go back home and wait for my mother to return from her first vacation in three years.

Since I was his interim caregiver I wasn't too happy at the thought of leaving him alone. He was on a huge cocktail of Meds, and had to get bloodwork taken every week, and is not known for taking care of himself(Hence the liver transplant).

So I suggested we rent a car and continue our road trip, but would just see the South instead. That way we could still have our father/son bonding moment, and my mother could still have her worry-free vacation.

So for two weeks we drove through Georgia, Alabama, Mississippi, Kentucky, Tennessee, all the usual suspects.

I've never spent much time in the South. I was born and raised in Europe, move here by myself when I was sixteen to go to school. I'd always wanted to live in America, and was kind of disappointed when I did to find out how racist it can still be.

I'm now your typical West Coast Atheist Leftie, but I'm not Bill Maher smug about it and now I'm driving around the South. In January, while the healthcare debate rages on in the media.

My dad likes NPR, but every time he'd touch the radio dial, we'd always have to cycle through stations full of racist cockgobbling crackers bitching about how the Black Man in the White House was going to lead us all into a socialist hell. Huge Confederate flags line the highways, Obama Hitler posters everywhere. I'm grinding my molars to nubs.

Like a lot of his generation, my father is fascinated by war, and America's involvement in it. So we went to a lot of Museums, Civil War battlefields, etc. You know how the South prides itself on its' military involvement. All I could think of was the George Carlin quote about how he doesn't trust Southerners because they respect authority so absolutely. I believe he referred to them as "A bunch of Cop-Lovers and Soldier-Sniffers".

So we wind up in Richmond, Virginia, and my dad wants to go see the Museum of the Confederacy. Through gritted teeth I mention how I'm not sure how I feel about giving these Klan creeps my cash, but my father insists.

So on January 17th we walk over to the museum, which is right next door to Jefferson Davis' home, AKA The Confederate White House, and go in.

Cannons line the entrance, huge Confederate States flags hang from the ceiling, and the man taking our tickets has a full-on Civil War General beard, even though he's probably in his early twenties.

With great regret in his voice he tells us in his soft Southern drawl how while the museum is open today, "I'm afraid Jefferson Davis' home is closed for a federal holiday." He looks at us mournfully with sad doe eyes and continues, lower lip a-tremblin': "You see, it's Martin Luther King Jr. Day"....

...And I just lost it. I just started laughing in his stupid bearded fucking face, the past two week's tension booming out of my mouth, echoing around the cavernous hall of the museum.

I realize how bad this looks and try to stop it, but that only makes it worse. A security guard comes out to see what the commotion is, and when I see his wannabe SWAT team black kevlar uniform, it just makes me laugh even harder.

I turn away to try and grasp some small semblance of composure, and see the only the Lynyrd Skynyrd T-shirt of the man standing in line behind us, which sets off a fresh jag.

Tears are beginning to stream down my face, I can't breathe I'm laughing so hard, oh god, am I having a heart attack?

But it eventually goes away, slowly. Silence fills the great hall. I mumble some false apology and we purchase our tickets.

In the year since then, I've watched this country continue to listen to these fucktards as though they deserve a seat at the grown-up's table.

I've watched the Tea Partiers insistence that we return to the original interpretation of the Constitution, which means for them that Obama is only worth only three-fifths of that of a white president.

I've watched all this and more.

And whenever I start to get depressed or angry, I think of that moment, and I start to laugh all over again.

So keep living the dream, Hee-Haw. We've got a black president, the Confederate White House is closed on MLK Jr. Day, and your grandchildren will probably be mulatto. And gay. And hopefully Atheist.

And until that day happens, you can Suck It. And Suck It Hard.

Posted by: TheUpsetter at January 17, 2011 5:10 PM

Wait, did you just write up the opening montage of Undercover Brother?

Posted by: csb at January 17, 2011 5:12 PM

Unfortunately, I have to disagree because I belong to a race that is still struggling. And while I admire Rev. King for what he has done for civil rights, black and white are not the only colors. We are not post-racial. That's the reality I live in everyday as an Asian American.

Posted by: Shun at January 17, 2011 11:09 PM