At this point, most black people with an Internet connection have heard the news that the Oxygen network has a new reality show in the pipeline that revolves around G-Unit rapper Shawty Lo and the relationships he has with the ten mothers of his eleven children. The public outcry in response to the press release announcing that All My Babies’ Mamas would be added to the network’s Spring 2013 lineup has been swift and appears to have been effective. Several petitions on Change.org were posted in the aftermath, the most successful one being from bestselling author Sabrina Lamb, which as of press time has gained over 33,000 signatures in just a few days.
Through a spokesperson, Oxygen President Jason Klarman issued a tepid response to an email from the New York Chapter of the NAACP requesting that the show be canceled. “[W]e are highly attuned and sensitive to your concerns and our diverse team of creative executives will continue their involvement as the special is developed,” his statement read.
Yet, over the course of a few days and in the face of increasingly louder voices of criticism, it seems that Klarman may have done an about face on the show. On Monday according to the Associated Press, Rod Aissa, Oxygen’s programming head, met with network television writers to discuss new shows such as Find Me My Man, Too Young to Marry? and Fat Girl Revenge.
Which show was missing from the presentation? You guessed it: All My Babies’ Mamas
Still, this show is just a speck in a dust storm of devilment. Over the past several weeks networks have been steadily releasing their upcoming programming schedule. Out of the 46 new reality shows slated for the spring, 45 percent are comprised of an exclusively white cast, 28 percent are predominantly black, and 26 percent have multicultural cast members (including Kimora Lee Simmons’s show and the Dominican cast of Washington Heights). Black Americans make up 13.7 percent of the U.S. population, but we are represented in almost 30 percent of the new reality shows, many of which perpetuate some of the most damaging racial stereotypes.
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Take the TLC network (which ironically stands for The Learning Channel) that recently began airing The Sisterhood, a reality show featuring the wives of preachers that one reviewer said, “is nothing more — or less — than the Real Housewives of Atlanta, but co-starring God.”
TLC also seems to be hell bent on making a mockery of black spirituality with another show, Best Funeral Ever, which essentially highlights the intersection of grief and materialism with over the top homegoing services with perhaps no point other than to make black people appear to be flamboyant, materialistic, shuck and jive-loving coons even at the end of their lives.
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The underlying message most of these shows send about blacks is that we’re shallow, impulsive creatures lacking in self-control without any vision of life that doesn’t include vacations (or funerals) they can’t afford, slanging rhymes, having too many children, and shopping oneself into bankruptcy. But I digress.
I understand that not all forms of reality television are bad. But this article isn’t about Tia & Tamera or R&B Divas. Yes, this is a historic time in television history, with Kerry Washington being the first black woman to star in a network show since Diahann Carroll in the ’70s with Julia. Yet in spite of this achievement, we cannot believe this one show can ameliorate the fact that, although we comprise a little more than a tenth of the U.S. population, roughly half of all reality shows on TV are made up of all black or partially black casts whose behavior reinforces damaging stereotypes.
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In the decades since the Civil Rights and Black Power movements, the imagery of black people in media, particularly on television, has changed considerably. Now, I’m not a sociologist, but it is my guess that the materialism and “success at any cost” mindset that pervades modern popular culture today is likely a reaction to the economic uncertainty and hopelessness that is the true reality for many black people.
As a single mother who has struggled against many of the same systemic issues that affect our community (should I list the issues? I think we know them…) I understand the need for escape. Let’s face it: life is hard. Anyone who tries to tell you otherwise deserves a serious double side eye. This entertainment is a form of escape.
The “overnight success” stories of individuals who are as a whole largely without any real discernible talent are the driving force behind the most popular shows such as Love & Hip Hop and Basketball Wives. Reality show “stars” present what appears to be an attainable, glamorous lifestyle to a group of women who may not have the wherewithal or resources needed to carve out a financially stable life for themselves realistically.
But, in the process of enjoying this escape, we are ignoring the emotionally abusive and disrespectful behavior of male cast members such as L&HH’s Stevie J that reinforces the idea that a black man’s power is best expressed through unbridled and unprincipled sexual behavior, as just one example of these show’s many horrible messages.
It’s easy to point the finger at those who are creating and promoting this toxic “entertainment” and say that they are the ones who are destroying our image. Most of the commentary on All My Babies’ Mamas puts the responsibility for the quality of the programming on the shoulders of the networks and the poor souls who choose to participate in their own denigration and exploitation. However, the onus is on the viewers to help shape the type of programming that we’re being sold and that we’re buying into.
As Advertising Hall of Fame legend Tom Burrell stated in his 2009 book Brainwashed, “New race consciousness moves us beyond labeling… It’s no longer about changing white folks’ minds — it’s about changing our collective mindset.”
We must hold ourselves responsible for the type of propaganda that we are tacitly and in some cases aggressively supporting every time we turn on our television.
Online petitioning to remove programming like All My Babies’ Mamas is nice. It’s a start. But real systemic change isn’t going to occur because of a petition. One-off boycotts aren’t going to do anything to shift our collective response to programming that rams inferiority messaging about black people down our throats on a daily basis. All My Babies’ Mamas may end up getting scrapped, but another toxic show will appear.
Negative reality programming is like the mythological nine-headed Hydra. Cut one head off and two more will spring up in its place.
The only way to kill a hydra is by holding the monster up to the light — the light of consciousness. This means awareness of how we play a part in its perpetuation.
The bottom line is that for black people, negative reality TV viewing makes up a significant portion of all cable TV ratings generated by black households.
Balance in programming where black women are no longer be exploited as scheming Jezebels and black men are no longer portrayed as sexually addicted walking sperm donation banks is not going to happen by having panel discussions. It’s not going to happen by having feel good award shows highlighting the achievements of black women on one network that deflect us from the negative messaging being promoted on its sister network.
It must happen in part by us not watching.
Additionally, as well-intentioned as a Change.org petition is, we as a community have missed a larger point. These reality shows are a microcosm of a macro issue. This isn’t a moral issue. It’s a power issue. And we as a people need to understand that we have more power than we believe; not just personally, but from an economic perspective.
According to the Nielsen’s 2012 report African Americans: Still Vital, Still Growing, black Americans currently have an annual aggregate income level of roughly $696 billion, with our collective buying power tracking towards $1.1 trillion by 2015. What does this have to do with reality television? Everything. We have the power to influence the programming we’re watching through our individual media consumption and consumer spending. Every time we turn on our Bad Girls Club “guilty pleasure,” we send a message to the networks and to their advertisers that we approve of their message.
Malcolm X said, “The media’s the most powerful entity on earth… Because they control the minds of the masses.” Isn’t it time that we stop buying into the media’s various iterations of “harmless,” exploitative entertainment and start creating real change by harnessing the power of our collective spending power by rejecting these messages?
Screaming about All My Babies’ Mamas while still watching Real Housewvies of Atlanta is akin to the difference between mainlining and snorting heroin. Both are equally bad for you… the difference is all in the mind of the addict. Heroin abuse is heroin abuse — regardless of the method of delivery. To quote radio host Morris Kelly from his response to All My Babies’ Mamas, “You can either be against stereotypes or for them. It’s one or the other, but not both.”
So let’s start a change where we can make a difference today — within ourselves. Let’s stop co-signing this coonery as harmless. Let’s stop saying that the unrepentantly capitalistic black producers who profit off historical African-American stereotypes are just “getting theirs.” Let’s stop shifting responsibility for the perpetuation of these stereotypes onto the shoulders of the poor fools who participate on the shows or the media conglomerates that promote them. It is true that partial responsibility does fall on their shoulders; however they won’t continue to sling “reality crack” if we stop creating a demand.
Watching these sorts of shows at all is more than a guilty pleasure. It’s participation in one of the most successful racist propaganda campaigns in history.
Sil Lai Abrams is a writer, inspirational speaker, anti-domestic violence activist, Ebony.com’s relationship expert, and author of ‘No More Drama.‘ She is also the founder ofTruthInReality.org, a grassroots organization committed to changing the way women and interpersonal violence are portrayed on reality television. Follow her on Twitter at @Sil_Lai.