POTENTIAL, PERCEPTION, AND WHAT THE HELL…?
I was watching the television sitcom, “The Game” tonight. I am embarrassed that I even watch, or that I am admitting that I watch. From the start, I thought this new sitcom, which surprisingly was not cut when the WB bought UPN, based on the lives of a fictional football team and their families, was booty. And that’s booty as in stank, nasty and just wrong. The talents of Wendy Rachel Robinson (“The Steve Harvey Show,” “Ringmaster”) and Tia Mowry (“Sister, Sister”) are being wasted on poorly-written yet half way decent plots. The supporting cast isn't half bad, but still, these sisters deserve more. And so does the show itself. I especially find it deplorable that Robinson’s character is depicted as a ghetto mama, “taking care of her ‘little boy.’”
The perception here is that no matter how ignorant or silly we, particularly Black women, are, we will “get ‘er done,” when it comes to professional sports contracts because there is money (big-time money) involved. This show, and its perceptions makes us looks worse than buffoons.
I challenge the networks or powers-that-be in Hollywood to come up with an equivalent to Robinson’s character, but make her white. It’ll never happen. The last time this occurred was the television show, “The Beverly Hillbillies.”
Now, I am not dogging the flair or knack that we have for accomplishing stuff when push comes to shove. But do we need to celebrate the fact that some of us have not yet evolved and still lacking tact? This is not hate—it is the truth. Some of us could use a few courses in manners, etiquette and when to keep our damn mouths shut.
“The Game” is clearly beneath Robinson’s and Mowry’s acting abilities. But I guess it beats being the real-life girlfriend and mother of street pharmacists…
Axe.
Currently Listening To: Yes We Can Can by The Pointer Sisters, (It's Bigger Than) Hip-Hop by Dead Prez
1 comment:
Wow, I'm not sure where to even start with this one, Sis, but I'll try. For starters, I think I liked it best when people begin thinking we were all like "The Cosby's". But, UPN/WB has a history of illuminating the most obnoxious, most boisterous antics of our sistah-girls. I don't deny that even the most unflappable members of our clan possess the ability to express ourselves in ways that may not be completely 'lady like' when it comes to asserting our voice and intentions. But, where's our "Judging Amy", our "Crossing Jordan", our "Mary Tyler More"? Even on the show "Girlfriends", which features a high powered attorney (Joan), turned restaurateur, portrays all these black women as "not having a man", "gotta get a man", "oh' lawd what I'm gon' do if I don't get me a man" storylines. I don’t even remember Mary Tyler More going out on dates, much less lamenting the fact that she didn’t have a man. In fact, her character was a celebration of women’s independence. Don’t get it twisted…I’m the last one to think that all of our representations has to be perfect examples of proud, hardworking, church-going, patriotic African American families. But, do shows about us have to be over-the-top to get our attention? Have we no diversity? When will the adage “gotta get paid” cease to be our main motivation for developing our skills, knowledge and talents? Why not say no sometimes to the options they offer us, in exchange for a little black national dignity?
Over the weekend I watched the documentary, “BaadAsssss Cinema”, and icons such as Fred Williamson, Pam Grier and Gloria Hendry discuss how Jesse Jackson and groups like the NAACP came down hard against what they considered these negative images of blacks in films such as “Super Fly”, “Coffy”, etc. (Where’s the NAACP when we need them now; to protest these ridiculous TV shows?) These actors, (much like actors, artists, musicians, writers today), defend these movies as their only ‘opportunities’ to work in the field; that these were the choices they were given. But, then that’s the difference in being free and being a slave: slaves take the choices they are GIVEN. Free people create choices for themselves. But, I digress. At least back then, parents (my mama in particular) had the decency not to let their young and impressionable kids see and hear everything. If a movie was “R” rated, that meant you weren’t getting in without your mama. I was full grown when I finally saw “Super Fly”. And, the soundtrack by Curtis Mayfield, (which I was fully aware of and knew all the words, even before I saw the movie) rather than glorify the lifestyle of a drug pusher, totally contradicted it.
Because the rest of the ‘bling, bling’ blinded, celebrity cult/fame obsessed, consumer possessed society is going to Hell in its cultural hand basket, does that mean we have to follow?
http://www.boldness-genius.blogspot.com/
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