Moving Past Stereotypes and Colourism: Why Can’t Black Women Ever Be the Main Role in Cute and Heart-Warming Media?
By Marie Diby
As I come to the end of the second year of my film degree, my perspective of film has evolved past my days of watching cutesy, heart-warming movies and TV shows. Although my current attention is on independent filmmakers and their projects, from time to time I like to go back to watching this type of popular mainstream media. I remember the light-hearted movies and TV shows that I used to watch like To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before, Friends, and Endless Love, all of which contain female lead roles. Now, however, when I watched this type of content, a question comes to mind: why not apply this same narrative method to black women? Where are all the cutesy black female leads?
From the lack of black female leads in these types of movies and shows, it appears to be a struggle for a black woman to play a role that has no negative attributes attached to it, or to play a role without black topics and struggles being the main focus. Unfortunately, black people are associated with pain and negativity, which has leaked into the culture of our society. This association stems back to the historical colonisation era, when black people were not only exploited socially and economically but were also dehumanised and sold into slavery. Although this era ended, the consequences remained in the form of negative stereotypes about black people and about black women in particular.
The common stereotypes associated with black women are rife in the media. They include, but are not limited to:
The Jezebel, which characterises black women as hypersexual and insatiable. This stereotype is commonly found in hip-hop and R&B music videos. Horrifically, this stereotype developed as a result of black enslaved women experiencing sexual abuse from slave owners.
The Sapphire, very similar to the ‘Angry Black Woman’ trope, stereotypes black women as aggressive, dominant, and masculine with a sassy attitude. This stereotype is mainly used as a weapon, a common excuse to shut down the voices of black women.
The Mammy trope is another common representation. This stereotype shows black women as domestic workers, cleaning white American households and looking after white children. It often appeared in advertisements, such as Aunt Jemima. It also appeared in movies, especially around the 20th Century, in classics like Gone With the Wind.
The Token Black Friend has no background story. Instead, they serve the plot by babysitting the white protagonist. This can be seen in Aisha from Fate: The Winx Saga and Dionne from Clueless – these characters exist just to fill in the excuse of having a diverse cast.
If a black woman doesn’t fit into any of the above categories, then she’s relegated to being an oreo (black on the outside but white on the inside). Ignorant, right? It seems that black women themselves can’t construct their own identities without being perceived a certain way.
There are rare roles in which black women can own their humanity without being stereotyped, whether they’re the ‘desirable’ role, the lead protagonist, or just a human being. However, these roles are portrayed by light-skinned actresses such as Zendaya, Halle Berry, and Amandla Sternberg. Women like these are more European looking and thus fit better into the narrow beauty standards of the West. In other words, it’s colourism. I like to think of colourism as an umbrella term that includes discrimination as well as racism.
Colourism has influenced the media industry, as well as the rest of global society, and it has affected the way that black actors are treated when they work. A report from Deadline found that nearly 80% of black female lead characters have light to medium skin tones, suggesting, as the report concluded, that ‘colourism is persistent’. Dark skin is associated with masculinity, which is why it is easy to give the desired lead to a black man but not to a black woman. This, combined with the fact that dark skin women are seen as undesirable due to the previously mentioned Eurocentric beauty standards, makes it difficult for the media to construct a positive narrative around black women. But really, it shouldn’t. As a result of this lack of access to main roles, dark skin women are, in fact, more likely to participate in small roles or as extras. This is evident in shows like Bridgerton. Though the show claims to emphasise diversity, I wouldn’t take that claim too seriously.
If black women do take the lead or any other significant role in a film or TV show, it is often a black political or social justice film that accentuates their pain and suffering. This links to the Strong Black Woman trope, where black women’s strengths are praised through their agony, which reinforces the myth that any black woman can simply get through their enduring pain simply because they are a black woman. This is not just a problem but also a dangerous mindset to have! Black women’s struggles are praised and awarded for entertainment purposes and are apparently inspirational. This is extremely problematic.
Recently, I’ve seen the 2019 drama-crime film Queen & Slim. The film centres the difficult situation of two date partners when they find themselves on the run after accidentally killing a police officer in self-defence. I’m going to avoid open spoilers, but let’s just say the film left me in tears and feeling very frustrated. Seeing black people, especially black women, in pain presented on screens is very horrible. I did think the film was well made and slightly different from other black social films. Though my feelings toward these films are complex, I do believe that it is important that people are educated and aware of the treatment people of colour face. It is also important for white people to acknowledge their privilege, and to use it to give people of colour the chance to voice their rights. And let me say this: Black Lives Matter is not a political campaign – it is a journey toward a human rights liberation.
It is time for us black women to release our creativity and take ownership of our liberty. We don't have high pain tolerances or the ability to survive an endless series of harmful experiences. We have nerve endings. We’re physically and mentally sensitive and, more importantly, we have damn feelings. It's ok if we go through a breakdown. It’s ok to seek physical, mental, or emotional support to help manage the situation. We shouldn’t neglect any of these things just because others expect us to be strong.
We’re complex beings.; we have complex interests and personalities. But most importantly, we’re human. Yes, things are progressing. We have talented actresses such as Lupita Nyong’o. We have talented black writers and creators like Issa Rae and Michaela Coel, whose work is hugely appreciated across the media industry. However, there is still a lot of work to be done.
We need more cute, contemporary films in which the black female protagonist bakes sweet cookies, becomes the love interest, and goes through a journey of self-exploration in a coming-of-age film. We need media that focuses on the main character and her goals and that doesn’t revolve around race.