Angry, black and scandalous

It’s Thursday and anyone who gets a thrill from attempted murder, steamy sex scenes or problematic patriotism is watching Shonda Rhimes’ “Scandal” tonight. Rhimes’ hit show premiered last Thursday to 12.2 million viewers and was followed by series “How To Get Away With Murder," which opened to over 14 million viewers. The new thriller was best known for its executive producer—you guessed it—Shonda Rhimes. If you’re still lost, ever heard of that show "Grey’s Anatomy?" Yeah, she did that too.

Some may consider Rhimes a god(dess) or a champion for the lost and underrepresented. I think that’s a bit reaching. Simply put, her characters are complex people that are funny and all sorts of messed up, characters that span all races and sexual orientations. Rhimes combats the idea of the Asian sidekick or the saucy Latina, ideas often based in harmful stereotypes. But just two weeks ago in a New York Times article, Rhimes was reduced to one—the angry black woman.

The creator of one of the best shows on network television can’t write women characters that fight back without being depicted as an angry black woman? Something doesn’t seem right about that to me. Why is it that being a woman—a person—with a large collection of emotions, isn’t really what people see when they think of an angry black woman? Unfortunately even acclaimed writers and producers don’t get a pass when it comes to being painted as an archetype before they’re painted as a person.

Here’s a quick history lesson on where this angry black woman idea originated from. The archetype appeared in the late 1920’s radio show “Amos ‘n’ Andy”. Sapphire, the matriarch of the show family, was depicted as bossy and verbally abusive to her husband. Picture her hands on her hip and a snappy point finger. Sound familiar? Seems a lot like that “Independent woman who don’t need no man” meme that circulated around the internet God knows how long ago. Archetypes that characterize blacks as individuals with polarizing traits like sassiness, laziness or being hyper-sexualized are nothing new. In fact, almost 200 years ago, shows that depicted these racist stereotypes were the most popular types of entertainment in the country. Can you say blackface?

You might be saying to yourself now, ‘Brianna, we get it? Racism was bad and people made fun of black people, but that was forever ago. Besides black women are strong and independent and angry was just a word to depict that.’ Oh okay. Perhaps it’s that strength that leaves more than 2.5 more black women than white women murdered by men, annually. When it comes to survivors of sexual assault, for every survivor to report, 3 times as many black women than white women will not report the crime. Women who are victims of sexual assault often feel shame or ask what they could have done differently to prevent the assault. Now imagine feeling like you have to be strong, independent, or a fighter and living with the misguided idea that you just weren’t strong enough to prevent the attack. I can only imagine how this adds to the shame those women feel. Now imagine wanting to speak out about your assault. Along with the pressures of being a woman which paints victims of sexual assault as sluts or asking for it, add to that the pressure of being seen as a hateful, spiteful woman. Add to that the pressure that although you were an “angry black woman”, you weren’t angry enough to stop your attacker.

What those memes on the internet don’t tell you is that behind every stereotype there is someone who tries to find themselves within media or conversations only to find antiquated ideals that rely on ignorance and false ideals. The world black women live in is no different than the world at large--we all take in the same negative images, even if they’re about us. I have talked to strong black women going to college who can’t be too strong or too angry during discussion for fear of not being taken seriously. Black women know all too well the word “opinionated”. There are strong black women who are preyed on by the police or attacked by their neighbors. Women who were seen as angry or uncivilized or “ghetto” before they were even seen with any humanity at all.

Why does this matter? Well, I’m a black woman. I really don’t want to be angry, but honestly, I’m not apologizing for it and neither should any other black woman. We have a right to be. We have a right to be multi-dimensional. We can be funny and irate and “classically beautiful." We can lead TV networks or be President. We can even be black dependent women who sometimes need a man. I know it may sound like I’m just complaining to get your pity or that I am trying to move focus to the black girls. And to that I would say no to former and yes to the latter. Because if an acclaimed writer and producer can’t write complex black dimensional characters without being cast as a stereotype, well then, that’s something I will share my opinion about—and you can read it every other Thursday.

Brianna Whitfield is a Trinity junior. Her column runs every other Thursday. Follow her on Twitter at @bwhit923.