From the time I was growing up until now, one of, if not my favorite, activities was getting home from school and watching television. I know; I can hear the old school cats yelling "When I was your age, we went outside and played," and to your credit that's excellent, but I lived on a high traffic main street with no siblings and no strong athletic ability. So in that circumstance, what does a kid with that kind of extra time do? Well, the easy answer for me was to watch television.
"Hey Arnold," "The Proud Family," "Keenan and Kel," "The Brothers Garcia," "Static Shock," you name it. Chances are it was on my television screen occupying the time that could've been used to further my knowledge of the piano, or learning Fante. And because I spent so much time watching it, television has played a truly developmental role in my life. While in no way has television been the most impactful, or even, accurate representation of what it means to grow and learn, to deny it's importance in my life would be foolish.
As a very young black adult, my interests and understanding of the world have constantly grown and changed. Concurrently, the way we consume television, and the way creators tell these stories on television has also changed. Broadcast networks such as ABC and FOX, cable and premium networks like FX and HBO, and streaming services such as Netflix and Amazon Prime have all been lauded for their involvement in a new wave of diverse and complex story telling.
For me, one of the most intriguing aspects of this new push for diversity is the way black characters are being portrayed in new shows that center around different aspects of the black experience. While this current wave isn't the first time of black families and characters being the focal point of popular television, it is probably the most diversified. Gone are the days of one-dimensional sitcoms, that created feel good family vibes, and focused on the shenanigans of a wacky member of the family. This new wave is full of intriguing and not-so-predictable storytelling that transcends the box that many shows tended to keep us as a people in.
This is not to disparage seminal Black shows that established us as a talented and entertaining part of the Hollywood and television community, (i.e. "The Jeffersons," "Living Single," and "The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air"). However, this next generation varies from the traditional ("Black-ish"), to the dramatic and magnificent ("Scandal," "Empire," "The Get Down"), to the outlandish ("Key and Peele"). Although not every single one of the television shows I listed may be in your Netflix queue, one of them takes your heart and your time during the occasional binge watching sessions.
Among the standouts is the newest and most recent black show, "Atlanta" which shows a whole other side of black television not often seen before. Finding humor in the ordinary, while presenting a relatable story about the cost of chasing your dreams while trying to make ends meet; "Atlanta" has the means to be one of the great genre defining shows of it's time.
The show, which follows two cousins, Earnest (nicknamed Earn), and Alfred along with their friend Darius. It chronicles the trio's attempt to break further into the Atlanta music scene, following Alfred's, otherwise known as "Paperboy," well-received mixtape. While the premise may seem to lend itself to the typical storylines that tend to follow these hip-hop centric television shows (I'm looking at you "Power" and "Empire" ), the show takes a decidedly different path. It uses the titular setting, a wealth of strange yet realistic characters, and Donald Glover's (creator and portrayer of the main character in "Atlanta," Earn) experience and humor to create a surreal and well crafted experience of the world he is being us in. Even as early as the first episode it has tackled the issues of perception of blackness, fatherhood, and the fluidity of sexuality. It already is unlike anything on television, and it's engaging nuanced storytelling has primed it for an excellent run in the television world.
All in all, "Atlanta," "Black-ish," "Scandal," "Empire," and a plethora of other new shows are portraying black folks in a mostly positive and nuanced light not previously seen before. And yet, despite the strides we've made, there is still more to do. Heavy reliance on played out stereotypes and tropes, lack of risk taking in the more mainstream shows, and fluffy and inconsistent characterization still plagues black television in small bouts — as it does in all of television. However, we should continue to demand more from those who create, while developing our own ideas to elevate our portrayals on television. Especially since we all know there isn't only one or two kinds of black people.
