Superiority Complexes.
This morning it occurred to me that I may be developing a “you don’t know who I am” complex. It’s because of where I work. Many people here have that complex. I work with/around some of the most powerful people in America. Some of these people have the type of clout to get folks fired from jobs they’ve held for years, just because they want to. One swift e-mail from some of these people could put lots of money into your organization, or strip it all away. As a result, many people here have a “you don’t know who I am” complex. That is, small gaffes like mistaking them for someone of “lesser” importance can piss them off enough that they find it necessary to prove to you who they are by somehow negatively impacting whatever organization or group you represent. I’ve seen it happen.
It’s a complex born of an environment that thrives on clout, capital (of the non-tangible kind), and typically manifests itself worse among people who’ve never had power before. Power is and can be a very dangerous thing. I’ve heard many people, like the recently convicted former Mayor of Birmingham, AL, say that power is a dangerous drug. I hate the people around here who take their power for granted and too far and I’ve tried to be careful of developing this complex, but I see many of the seeds have been planted.
A few nights ago, I had an especially mentally stimulating conversation with a friend. She told me she was ashamed of herself for thoughts she had and assumptions she made with regards to a student she was tutoring. It’s worth noting that she and I have similar backgrounds. Both are black, female, and the only child of a single mother. We both graduated from private high schools and we both attended the same university. We are almost the same age (less than a year seperates us) and we have similar (not the same, but similar) interests as it relates to the types of ideallic things we do/wish to do. When she told me she wondered if the education we recieved at our elitist undergraduate institution had somehow lent itself to making it easier for us to have some of the same negative thoughts about low-income minorities as some of the ignorant individuals we dislike so greatly, it sort of struck a nerve with me.
I immediately thought of a post I read by a guest blogger on A Belle in Brooklyn. The title of the post was “Why The Talented Tenth is failing the black community” and written by Brandi, author of a blog titled Social Angst. I specifically remembered this portion (quoted here w/out permission, but be sure to check out both the post and her blog via the links provided):
The most pressing issue of Black America is the growing divide between the “haves” and the “have-nots.” Those who have access hoard it. And the talent of lower class individuals is being both unrecognized and unsolicited by the top tier of Black society. We are not meeting our obligation to nurture those who have less access. We are failing ourselves and it is starting at the top…
If you are not actively seeking out and pulling up the deserved, can you truly call yourself part of the Talented Tenth? Without commitment to the covenant aren’t you just simply elite? And, if you are simply elite, is your impact on Black American culture benefitting anyone other than you and your insular circle of friends?
I mentioned this post and specifically the general idea of the quoted portion to my friend. I highlighted how many of our friends in undergrad tutored low-income students for community service. I wondered, aloud, for how many was it about helping these students or looking good to and for various organizations. I also wondered how often we really paid attention to the students we tutored/mentored. How often did we try to bring out and foster their talents? How much time did we spend getting to know them and so what sort of impact did we actually have? Were these students truly any better because they knew us — were we truly fulfilling our purposes, or was it all self-serving? It’s sad to say, but true I think, that it was, for too many of us, self-serving and because of a superiority complex.
I talked about my own beginnings in community service; how I was drawn to it because it was amazing to me that I worked with students who were like me in every way. They were black, from single parent homes and my age (sometimes older) but that the lone thing that set me a part was the opportunity I had been given to attend a prestigious private school. I can still remember the moment it occurred to my 14 year old brain that there was almost nothing that seperated me from these students and yet they looked to me for help. I asked my friend, “what does it do us when we’re always the ones helping? How do we process that, ultimately? How do you not develop a superiority complex when people are always looking to you for help and in that, why would we ever really work to “actively seek out and pull up the deserved?”
I was burned out on “helping the kids” by the time I was 17. Between 2000 and 2004 I accrued well over 800 hours in community service; recieved the President’s Service Award more than once and had all types of plaques and accolades; however, I was totally over it all and for various reasons. One part of it was, quite frankly, I was developing a superiority complex.
Compared to high school, I did almost no community service in college. I wasn’t burned out anymore (even though that’s what I kept saying), but I still had remnants of the superiority complex. I had lost sight of why I had done community service; it wasn’t about the prestige it garnered, the plaques, the hours, the accolades, or how good it looked on my college application. It should have always been about the students I tutored and the connections we made. It’s hard to quantify what all was involved in the complex, but when you understand why you’re helping people it makes it harder to not help them. It’s when you think you’re “too good” for that or “too important” or “too busy” that it’s easy to avoid doing it.
As my friend and I continued talking we discussed a class we’d both taken in undergrad. The class discussed the plight of the low-income student in America (and included a “community service” initiative). Too often, we realized, “low-income” was connected with “black” or “minority.” Not only is that because for the most part that’s the case, but it’s also exactly what we were shown when went out into the community. My friend told me about a class she’s currently taking that seems to do the same thing. I expressed concern that not enough well-meaning professors give otherwise ignorant students the right tools.
Back to high school, my CS director required all new and returning tutors to participate in what eventually became a 2-day orientation discussion. She wanted to “prepare” these wealthy white kids for the stark reality of “life in the hood.” Unfortunately, it seemed more like an attempt to present the saddest “snapshot” she could. I remember sitting in the orientation my Senior year (I’d skipped it in the 2 years prior because I was a “site leader” and had ongoing commitments; I had to be there my Senior year as a “senior board member”) being utterly disgusted with how extreme her stories were. She claimed some of the kids were going hungry, some of the kids had no clothes, some of the kids were light years behind their peers in education; she made them sound like those starving African children you see on late-night tv. The truth was, these kids were not that different from us when we were that age. Sure, some of them lived in less than desired situations but not all of them. What her extreme representation of the situation did was to send these still-ignorant yet otherwise well-meaning wealthy white kids into a community that they didn’t understand and wouldn’t understand what with all the presupposed details. I found myself having to be frank with my tutors: “We expect nothing less than the best from these students. Their excuses are just that: excuses and we will not allow excuses to stop us from getting the best we can…”
My friend and discovered how far left of center we’ve come. How we assume things about individuals who are just like us. She shared that she’d assumed that the student she was tutoring came from a single-parent home and that none of her older siblings had attended college. Neither assumption was true and as my friend considered why she’d thought those things, she realized there was no reason, except that for the past 2 years she’s been bombarded with all the facts that say low-income black children are from single parent homes and don’t go to college. This is despite the fact that we are both proof that those “facts” don’t apply across the board and we have plenty of friends and associates who also disprove those “facts.”
The strength of a superiority complex is astounded when considered, here. I hate when people assume they know everything about me based on the color of my skin; more often than not, they aren’t correct. How outrageous, then, is it for me to make assumptions about someone who is just like me? Ultimately, though, the blame doesn’t lie with our education. The blame lies with us. It’s almost comical how these complexes have taken hold and I hadn’t thought about it or noticed it. How do you become ignorant and not notice it?
Black Hair: Who owns the industry?
Recently, black hair has become a hot topic in mainstream America thanks to Chris Rock’s documentary Good Hair (and Oprah’s whole show devoted to the film).
This morning, I stumbled up on a video by documentary filmmaker Aron Ranen called Black Hair: The Korean Takeover In the 10 minute clip below, Aron introduces us to the methodical manner in which Koreans are literally taking over the black hair care industry.
In summary, despite the fact that African-Americans make up at least 90% of customers in the black hair care product industry, they only account for a small percentage of suppliers. Koreans on the west coast quickly began to realize that they held 80% of the market and so they could expand their businesses from shop owner to suppliers. They are slowly and methodically pushing out black-owned supply companies by claiming that there is no longer a demand for their products all the while duplicating the very same products in their own manufacturing companies and telling customers that the black-owned company products are not valuable and are cheap knockoffs of more high quality products (read: their products). One black-owned company, Kazuri, is highlighted.
It’s become a real problem and it’s highly concerning to me that yet again, our community is being taken advantaged of. I wonder how this happened. At what point did we close our eyes and allow Korean owned beauty supply stores to takeover? This is a problem on the west coast, for now but that will quickly change.
Just a few weeks ago I was getting my hair done when my stylist’s supply representative came in for orders. They began having a conversation about what large black hair care supply stores were still black-owned. I was surprised to hear that major companies with names I recognize from my youth, like SoftSheen Carson, are no longer black-owned and it wouldn’t be far-fetched to assume that they are now Korean owned.
As I watched the 10 minute clip from Aron’s 50-minute documentary I shook my head. I feel like this is yet one more example of the things that are going horribly wrong in our community. If there’s one industry where we should be the majority stakeholder, it’s in the business of manufacturing and supplying and selling our own hair care products, and yet we’ve sat by with our jokes and comments on the korean-owned stores and now they own the industry and have no shame in pushing out the little guys — us!
I encourage everyone to at least watch this 10-minute clip, if not purchase the whole DVD.
Tyler Perry
2 posts on this blog in one day. Wow. Major record.
In this video, Tyler Perry discusses some of the criticism he’s recieved from people concerning some of the characters he has created, including Madea and Mr. Brown.
I feel what Tyler says here and I completely agree. As I said on Twitter:
Black ppl have 2 STOP thinking every movie w/ black ppl in it has 2 reflect them
Over the last 30 years, we’ve seen quite a few types of black movies, ranging from Blaxploitation to movies about life in the hood. From stories of the upper echelon of black folks, to the very bottom. All types of black people have been portrayed, sometimes correctly, other times in correctly, in Hollywood.
I won’t go into the issue of whether or not black people are represented enough in Hollywood, because the answer is simple: we are not. The issue I have is this idea that black people seem to have that when they go watch a film starring/about black people, they are supposed to see themselves (and their 3 friends). That isn’t realistic. You and your 3 friends = 4 people, who are by no means representative of an entire group. I know we’d all love to see more films with black people of all types in it, the way we feel like we see films with all types of white people in them. I’d actually argue that there are plenty of groups of white people who are horridly under/mis-represented in film, but that’s another topic.
What Tyler Perry has long been able to do is make his plays relatable to his fanbase. TP figured out early on that there was a certain demographic within the black community who identified with his characters. They had a grandmother like Madea, an uncle like Mr. Brown. They too had a crackhead in their family, or had also dealt with spousal abuse. When they watch his plays and his films, they see themselves and their families. Those are the targets, for him.
If you don’t see yourself in any Tyler Perry film, that’s ok. Maybe his films aren’t for you. I don’t identify completely with Spike Lee’s “School Daze;” in fact, this film doesn’t describe my college experience at all, but I respect it not only because it’s a classic or because it’s a good film, but because there are many African-Americans who do see themselves in “Do The Right Thing” or “Crooklyn” or “School Daze” or any other Spike Lee Film. In fact, many black people didn’t like Spike Lee’s “Bamboozled” because they missed what he was trying to say. While not exactly the same, many people miss what Tyler Perry is trying to do: draw in an audience that is under/mis-represented in Hollywood with as he says, “disarming, funny, charming bait” and then he’s able to make larger points about God and love and relationships, for example.
There are plenty who argue that it’s not about who these films are or aren’t for, but that they gross so much money and make so much news on the backs of caricatures of black people that have been used for decades to degrade and humiliate an entire race of people. Look, I’ll be honest — if these movies were made by white filmmakers, we’d all be pissed and rightfully so. But that’s because there’s no way films like these could be made honestly. The caricatures and exaggerations that we reference when we call something “coonery” or “buffonery” are based on completely false stereotypes. Tyler Perry may exaggerate some things, but his characters are based stiffly and assuredly in someone’s truth, and if it’s not my truth I can be ok that it is’s someone’s truth.
Amos & Andy… (click the picture for more info on Amos and Andy’s history)
were not someone’s truth. They were completely falsified creations made up in a white man’s world based on the things white people thought were true about black people. Tyler Perry’s characters are based on people he knows, and if we’re all honest, people we know.
I think we need to get off Tyler Perry. He’s doing a lot of things no other black filmmaker has been able to do and I think it’s largely in part because he focused on a demographic that is incredibly loyal but had long been overlooked by most of Hollywood, even the black filmmakers. We can’t be upset with him for doing what no one else would and succeeding.
(Black) Students Not Allowed
CNN is reporting on a story out of Chicago involving seniors from The Washington University in St. Louis, MO.
These seniors planned a trip to Chicago for their class with a culminating party at a bar in downtown, Chicago. They contacted the bar before they arrived, but when they got there, the white students were allowed in, and the black students were not. The bar claimed it was dress code violations that prevented the black students from entering, but the students not only claim they were told that even if they changed they would not be allowed in, but one pair of students two boys, one black, the other white tested the theory by switching their jeans. The white student was still allowed in, despite the fact that being 3 inches shorter than the black student, his new jeans were even more apparently baggy.
The students have contacted numerous organizations such as the ADL, and the Chicago Urban League. The chancellor of Washington University has written a letter to the mayor of Chicago.
I’m not actually surprised that in 2009 these things still happen. These days, I’m surprised that people are surprised by them. Further, it’s disheartening to know that people and organizations feel comfortable committing these blatantly racist acts with almost no apology. Of course the bar denies any wrongdoing and sticks by their “it was a dress code issue” defense, much like that swim club in Philadelphia that turned away a group of minority children but stuck by their “our pool couldn’t accomodate the large number of children” defense, even though the President of the club wrote a letter that included a comment that there was a concern that the children would change the “complexion” of the pool.
Not only do these blatantly racist acts continue to happen, but they insult our intelligence with these lame defenses. Usually the defenses aren’t much better, but they’re short just one requirement of qualifying as a racist act and the perpetrators know this. To keep someone out of your club based on dress code is a regularly used tactic to prevent people of a certain demographic from coming in, all the while keeping everything just right of wrong.
Don’t get me wrong — sometimes required dress is important. It helps an establishment maintain a certain level of clientele. Some restaurants have dress codes, it seems every club in DC has a dress code (regardless of target clientele), hell, even Morehouse is implemeting a dress code for it’s students. But what does it say when your dress code systematically leaves out only one race of people? Does it mean only one race of people have an issue with dress, or does it mean your dress code is problematic?
As a note, the club is claiming that they take these allegations seriously and have already begun revisiting their policies as well as the training of their employees. I hope the students at Washington University also take it seriously to stay on top of this, or it will become yesterday’s news before today is over, like so many other similar situations.
Black Students Stepping Up For Black Students
I recently read a blog post at Field Negro about a girl named Chanequa Campbell. I encourage you all to check out his blog, he is always on point. In his post he links to the site he found the information from and from there I found this news article written from the side of the Black Harvard student community. I encourage you to read that article as well, as it’s the basis for my commentary. I’ve also seen other commentary about this story out in the blogosphere through the lens of what happened to Professor Gates a few days ago.
Many individuals are concerned that while Dr. Gates has been able to draw a lot of attention to his situation, Chanequa Campbell and others like her are ignored by the media because they are poor and their story resonates, the media thinks, with very few.
Allow me to sum up her situation: A Harvard student was killed in a drug deal gone wrong. The accused killer was, at the time, dating a girl with whom Chanequa was friends. The Harvard administration, by some accounts, put both Campbell and her friend out of the dorm and prevented them both from graduating. Other accounts say that only Campbell was kicked out and blocked from graduation because her friend came from “the right side” of the tracks and had the clout and support to prevent Harvard from doing that to her, while Chanequa, a black student from a poor neighborhood, was at the administration’s mercy.
If the only thing Chanequa did wrong in this situation was to have the wrong types of friends, then shame on Harvard. However, I have a feeling that’s not the case.
Harvard’s black community has begun to recieve a lot of flack from the general blog community for not standing up for Chanequa. Many feel that the black students should have organized in a fashion similar to what some of Chanequa’s non-Harvard friends have done and petitioned the administration to allow her to graduate. Chanequa herself has criticized them and said that they have shunned and ostracized her because of where she’s from.
I went to a PWI very similar to Harvard (in fact, we say Harvard is the northern version of us…) I know what the black communities at schools like these can be like. Sometimes too quick to call racism when there is none and sometimes not as protective of each other as we should be. I’ve heard stories of what Harvard’s Black community is like and I think in some ways I’m a bit envious. They have major clout with their administration, but I know that’s from a LOT of hard work, a lot of give and take. They have story after story of standing up for their own when an injustice occurred and so I take pause when I see a situation where they don’t.
The article linked above mentions that some of the black students stayed away from Chanequa early on because she involved herself in the drug trade on campus. While no one in this article or elsewhere suggests that Chanequa was the cause of the Harvard student’s death, there seems to be implicit comment that Harvard’s reaction was not off base.
“People are pretty sure she did something, they just don’t know what,” said a Black classmate in Campbell’s graduating class, who requested anonymity. “We can’t rally behind somebody we don’t necessarily believe in.”
Clout is like money. You can spend it or you can hoard it. For the black community to rally behind Chanequa, they would spend some of the clout they’ve earned with Harvard. That would be fine if they all felt she’d been wronged but for them to be uneasy about spending the clout on her speaks volumes.
Some have suggested this is actually a class issue. Chanequa being the first to say that because she came from a poor neighborhood in New York, her fellow black students don’t want anything to do with her. What struck me, however, was the listing of how involved in the black community she was. Black students are shunned at PWIs. It happens all the time. If you are shunned, when someone writes about you, they won’t be able to say you were very involved… black people take the blacklisting very far.
I think the reality is that Chanequa involved herself in some subpar activity that her fellow students knew about. When the murder occurred, I’m sure the rumors began and I’m sure the rumors were based in some facts. When Harvard laid down their punishment the black community looked at what they knew and decided that it was best left alone. I don’t blame them. In schools like these the black community’s relationship with the administration is paramount. That relationship can make things easier or harder for the students that follow.
I don’t want to sound cold-hearted; I actually feel bad for Chanequa. I’m sorry that she worked hard at a school like Harvard and won’t be able to reap the rewards. I’m sorry that the black community didn’t feel comfortable stepping up for her. Ultimately, there’s nothing about this that is good.
Students Afraid of School
Family Afraid To Send Kids To School After Racist Death Threats Found on Bathroom Wall
I couldn’t embed the video, but make sure you watch it.
In short, these 3 boys attend a middle school where they are 1 of 12 black students. The school officials found in the bathroom some racial epithets and threats with their names and 3 other black students’ names also written. They’ve been out of school for a week or so, now, because they are scared for their safety. It’s the school official’s response, however, that concerns me most.
I went to a high school where I was one of 16 black students in my graduating class. At the time, we were the largest group of black students in any one class. So I empathize with what it must be like to be one of 12 at a middle school.
My concern with this story is that it’s NOT being taken seriously enough. Ultimately, prank or not (but this isn’t a prank, so we’re clear) there are students who believe this sort of speech and action is ok. These are the kids who grow up and start attacking and assaulting people because of their race, only for their parents to get on tv and say “he was such a fine young man.”
When situations like this occur, I fear that the appropriate officials feign concern for the cameras, but secretly make light of it. The reporter says the school administrators in this story thought it was probably a prank, but were still taking precautions. That doesn’t make me feel good. That makes me feel like they’ll beef up security but when nothing happens, they’ll feel justified in their prank assumptions, let their guard down and some child will be harmed.
This is bigger than potential school violence though. I read a comment on someone’s blog once. A commenter said something like “Everyone is entitled to their own opinions. Even stupid ones.” and I agree. I don’t really care about people being racist. I’m not seeking the end of racism, per se, as much as I want people to understand that you can think what you want, but what you think need not ever invade my space or effect my quality of life. These poor boys are living in fear, having no idea who it is that’s targeting them.
I’ll add this to my “You need proof racism still exists?” files. Unfortunately, people still need proof…
Conservatism and Black folk
The concept of a black republican is not still the anomoly it has been, but it’s still something many other black people have trouble understanding.
For the record, I do not consider myself a Republican. I am, though, perhaps a little more conservative than I may have thought previous to my current job. In fact, most black people are conservative. Our community is a conservative one. I think that if we, as a community, made it a priority to be educated on the issues and vote for candidates based more on their stances on issues than anything else, we’d find more of us voting for Republicans than we thought.
But let me say now, this is in no way going to be a post meant to encourage people to vote pro-Republicans. I don’t think the GOP deserves the minority vote, at all. I’m tempted to say neither does the Democrat party, but I’ll give them credit for at least looking like they care.
I don’t read very many black conservative blogs. I’ve tried to, I want to know the opinions and sides on every issue, but so many of them become fodder for “I’m not like the rest of the Negroes” that it becomes stomach-churning. I just want the opinion, preferably with something to back it up, and nothing else.
In all that, there seems to be the implication that a “true” black Republican is not like other black people. The fact of the matter is, there’s no deep difference between a black person who identifies with the Republican party’s ideology and a black person who identifies with the Democrat one, just like there’s no such difference between the two types in white America.
I think many black Republicans would argue with me and say they are attacked, and they are trying to defend themselves. I’d agree with that on some levels — but let’s consider a few things:
1) After Reconstruction, when black people were voted into Congress (and before Jim Crow laws all but slid that to a halt, in the South and eventually in the North) they were all Republicans. Why? Republican was the party of Lincoln — it was the party that had freed the slaves.
2) The shift of the black vote from Republican to Democrat has it’s roots in the move of the Dixiecrat party. In the 1930s, the Dems ideology shifted to one in support of many things they are known for today, such as civil rights and economic intervention. It was Harry Truman’s support to, essentially, end racial segregation that ran many Southern Democrats out of the party. These Dixiecrats would ultimately become Republicans.
It’s hard to imagine a person supporting a party that at one point was adamant about keeping their community down. It would be like a person who was a victim of a heinous crime, advocating for prisoner’s rights. Not too far-fetched, but definitely hard to understand. I think a lot of black Republicans struggle with explaining their stance in the face of what I like to call “black guilt.”
At last year’s Essence Festival, I recall a friend of mine recounting how he was all but harrassed to sign a petition in support of Barack Obama. At that time, he had not decided which potential Democrat nominee, Clinton or Obama, he wanted to support. He recalled the assertion many made that he wasn’t “black enough” because he didn’t immediately jump on the bandwagon. As black people we have a very “groupthink” way of going through life, and it’s not always good.
I’d like to see us as a community start to consider that what’s good for the goose isn’t always good for the gander and really start to get educated on the issues. But more importantly, we should empower each other to do that even if it means being different and not ridiculing each other. At the same time, I’d like to see black conservatives make a better effort to talk about why they hold their views. Not that this is about changing anyone’s ideologies, but you sure can attract more flies with honey than vinegar. I get the feeling, from far too many black Republicans, that they look down their noses at more liberal black folks. What’s that about??
Race in a Post-Racial Society
I really like J. Smooth. You should check him out (Google him, baby) and subscribe to his youtube videos. My man is the truth.
I like his comments on how Asher’s Twitter misstep is an interesting look in where we are, right now.
For anyone who has not yet been told, we are, contrary to initial reports, NOT in a post-racial society. I actually don’t think we’ll ever be in a post racial society; race is too much a part of who we are and what our history is. I don’t know that that’s a good thing, but I can’t say for sure that it’s a bad thing. In any case, it seems to me that a lot of people are waiting for us to get to a place with, essentially, no boundaries, like J.Smooth was talking about. Where we no longer have to care how our words sound to other people.
I presume it’s easy to wish for that, especially when you often find yourself in awkward situations. Just this afternoon, a co-worker of mine was trying to describe the black paint that her boyfriend sometimes wears under his eyes (the athletic black paint football players use). She misspoke and said “black face.” I knew she misspoke and I knew that’s not what he really wore, but the whole room paused and everyone turned to look at me. This idea that it would be, the lone black person, who decided if it was ok to let it slide or if there needed to be more. Everyone in that room knew it was an honest mistake, but it was up to me to decide for sure.
We’re never going to live in a society where race is truly not an issue. I think we shouldn’t even be working towards that. I believe we should be working towards doing away with the ignorance that makes race a problem. The ignorance that allows stores to send their employees to follow black people around stores, or allows Hispanics to be beat up and killed because they’re presumed to be illegal immigrants.
Our black president doesn’t change the fact that we have serious issues. What having a black president hopefully does is open up dialogue. I think we should get to a place where people aren’t afraid to speak their mind, no matter what, but also understand that there are still boundaries and lines we don’t cross. I’ve never understood why a white person would want “permission” to say the n-word, or why someone would want to be able to tell a race joke in mixed company and everyone find it funny. We should live in a society where that’s not what people want.
How about we find a place where we acknowledge race and how it brings us together and makes us excitingly different?
Students Have Rights Too… Right?
Source: Seattle Times
A Dean of Students at a school in Washington state turned over surveillance video of a student whose parents had asked that they be notified of any “unusual” behavior.
This surveillance video, meant to keep students safe, recorded this female student kissing another girl. The parents promptly removed her from the school when they learned of it.
Parents have the right to parent their children however they feel. So while there are a lot of things wrong with this story (like what constituted her kissing another girl as unusual) I want to focus on this idea of whose responsibility it is to monitor what your children are doing at any given time of the day.
Sure, teachers and babysitters and whomever else of authority that come into contact with your children everyday should be making sure they are safe, by any (generally speaking) means necessary. However, the parents were wrong for asking the school to spy on their daughter and the school was wrong for agreeing to do so.
What about the student’s right? I’m one of those people that thinks we give children so many rights the parents don’t have any wiggle room to do their job, but come on already. Spying on your child at school via an administrator? What is that?? That’s not helping you be a good parent. A good parent would raise their child so that they could send them off and not have to be worried about what the child is doing when they’re not around, while also realizing that children and teenagers will do crazy things sometimes. What happened to letting kids grow up and learn from their own mistakes? Am I that old school?
Ultimately, I feel bad for this girl. She’s clearly got overprotective parents and that never bodes well in the long run.
Lincoln Heights
All this talk of Tyler Perry v. Spike Lee got me thinking…
A commenter on A Belle in Brooklyn’s post on this issue, Butterscotch Baby, said
I love Lincoln Heights and I’ve been watching it since it first premiered on ABCFamily. It’s a lesser known show on a niche market cable channel, but it’s a good one.
Lincoln Heights is a show about a family, the Suttons, who move back to “the Heights” when the father, Eddie, a police officer, decides he should live where he works. Lincoln Heights is not necessarily the safest community, but it is a community filled with people who remember when the neighborhood was safer and who want it to go back to that. We’re introduced to Eddie’s wife, Jenn who is a nurse and helps to open up a free-clinic in the neighborhood, their 3 kids, Cassandra (Cassie), Elizabeth (Lizzie) and Taylor (Tay) who are all wary of a move into a crime-filled neighborhood.
Now in it’s 4th season, we’ve seen a lot happen to the Suttons, including their house almost destroyed by an earthquake, kidnappings, fights and even a serious relationship between Cassie and her boyfriend Charles. The show isn’t different from many of the dramatic family-oriented shows we’re used to, except that the Suttons are a black family and Lincoln Heights, at the center of everything, is a black neighborhood.
I’m intrigued by a few things. Firstly, Lincoln Heights has been on air since 2006 and it’s still not getting a lot of play in the black community. That means the people watching it are white, which isn’t necessarily surprising since ABCFamily is a network oriented less towards the African-American demographic than the white demographic. Secondly, even in light of us losing shows like The Game, Everybody Hates Chris and Girlfriends black folks still aren’t discovering Lincoln Heights. Despite our claims that we’ve not seen a nuclear black family since the Cosbys, Lincoln Heights still isn’t getting any airtime in black households.
According to a report done by Media Reports the actual group that’s keeping LH on the air are teenagers. Most recent numbers show that ratings hover near or above 1% for the 12 – 17 demographic. In other words, about 30,000 12 – 17 year olds in the country watch Lincoln Heights. Typically reports on “who’s watching what” are done in terms of age. For the most part, advertisers concern themselves more with how old audiences are, than their race — which makes sense. Ford, for example, wouldn’t really want to advertise to a bunch of under-18 year olds who most likely can’t purchase a car, while Mattel might not be interested in advertising to an audience of over-20 when they’re pitching their new Barbies.
That being said, when we start talking about minority-starring shows, we can assume that their audiences, to a large degree, are a homogenous bunch, racially. LH stands out because they appeal to a teenage crowd, across the racial spectrum. A lot of kids see themselves in Cassie, Lizzie and Tay — even if those characters don’t look like them. Many fans absolutely love Cassie and Charles (Chassie as they’ve been named by the fans) together and are worried that the writers are going to break them up. Others identify with the way Lizzie is still trying to fit in in her new high school and others identify with Tay’s struggles as the baby boy.
What the writers have done with this show is amazing. The Cosby’s had crossover appeal because there was a certain level of race-neutralizing worked in. There wasn’t a terrible amount of discussions about their race, which worked. At that time, black folks were just happy to see them on television. Lincoln Heights has dealt with race repeatedly: Charles is white and, as we know, Cassie is black. Lizzie is dating a Hispanic guy and while we haven’t seen any issues for Lizzie and her boyfriend yet, Chassie started having problems almost immediately. For one year, Lizzie took an opportunity to go to a private school where she found it hard to make real friends because the kids either assumed she was there on a basketball scholarship and was stupid, or only wanted to be her friend because “black people are cool…” I felt like that storyline was so important — it’s a form of ignorance that is often overlooked.
I hope that more black households pick up on Lincoln Heights. It’s important that we support the shows that are doing what we want them to do so that we have more clout when we complain that there aren’t enough of those shows.
Check out some clips (or entire episodes) of Lincoln Heights on ABC Family’s website. But more importantly, WATCH IT. Mondays, 8pm EST, ABC Family.
October 28, 2009 Posted by ASmith | Entertainment, Review, TV Shows | Commentary | No Comments Yet