Contested Identities: The Absent Black Father Stereotype

Mychal Denzel Smith of The Washington Post published a ground-breaking article last January called "The Dangerous Myth of the 'Missing Black Father,'" in an attempt to shatter one of America's favorite scapegoats for African-American crime and other social imperfections. According to Smith, "Responsible fatherhood only goes so far in a world plagued by institutionalized oppression . . . By focusing on the supposed absence of black fathers, we allow ourselves to pretend this oppression is not real, while also further scapegoating black men for America's societal ills." Rather, he argues, the true differentiation between white and black success in life lies within "the impact of depressed wages, chronic unemployment, discriminatory hiring processes, the history of mass incarceration, housing segregation and inequality in educational opportunity, not just on family structure but on the resources available to black families to produce results similar to their white counterparts." Such a formula of systematic oppression continuously reproduces the benefits of white privilege, which then fuels the persistence of hegemonic groups to make "missing black fathers" the scapegoat for black criminality and other effects of inequality, rather than allowing for the exposure of institutionalized oppression as the real cause. 

As with nearly every other social stereotype, the myth of the "missing black father" is largely perpetuated through the American entertainment industry, in addition to other popular media forms like "memes" and "vines." It is not uncommon to see single black moms with many young children in media portrayals of the ghetto, for example, or for black fathers to be portrayed as flaky like Mookie in Spike Lee's Do the Right Thing or William in the TV series, This Is Us. Both of these misrepresentations pose a dilemma for African-Americans in their everyday lives, as the degrading media portrayals of "missing black fathers" and "welfare queens" greatly affect the way those in power perceive and treat African-Americans as a group in contemporary society.

This begs the question: Why are black fathers portrayed as less responsible than their hegemonic counterparts when fatherhood is colorblind? Perhaps Smith is right in saying that it is nothing more than a tactic used by hegemonic members to mask the structural inequalities from which they benefit. Or perhaps it is a simple matter of producing reality as Herbert Marcuse states in One-Dimensional Man, "In the equation Reason = Truth = Reality, which joins the subjective and objective world into one antagonistic unity, Reason is the subversive power, the 'power of the negative' that establishes, as theoretical and practical Reason, the truth for men and things—that is, the conditions in which men and things become what they really are" (pg. 123).

NYT: Too Good, Too Bad or Invisible

In 2013, Nelson George of the New York Times published an article called “Still Too Good, Too Bad or Invisible” following the Oscars, discussing the tendency for African-Americans to be misrepresented in the film industry as either unnaturally pure or inherently criminal—that is, if they are given any representation at all. In George’s words, “Are black characters given a real back story and real-world motivations? Are they agents of their own destiny or just foils for white characters? Are they too noble to be real? Are they too ghetto to be flesh and blood? Do any of these characters point to a way forward?” Unfortunately, there seems to be hardly any middle ground between the fabricated “too good” - “too bad” dichotomy for African-Americans in the American entertainment industry.

Take Viola Davis in The Help, 
for example. Her character, Aibileen Clark is portrayed as excessively pure, gentle and wise, which seems indicative of a hegemonic tendency to stereotype older African-American women as grandmother-like—especially when it comes to cooking, cleaning and other modern manifestations of an identity traditionally synonymous with the “help.” Although the stereotype is not inherently racist or unappreciative of African-American women, it lessens hegemonic viewers’ perceptions of them as equals by associating them with service roles, which can then have an effect on the way African-American women are perceived in the modern world. While countless films reinforce the “too good” stereotype of African-American women, the tendency is perhaps even more common with representations of African-American men in contemporary films. Many of Morgan Freeman’s characters are a good example of this, as his roles typically range from holy depictions like that of God in Evan Almighty and Bruce Almighty to wise roles like that of Nelson Mandela in Invictus and Eddie Dupris in Million Dollar Baby. Yet these depictions, like Davis’, are not inherently racist. Rather, they reinforce the notion that older African-American men are somehow inhumanly wise, which creates an incredibly difficult standard for black men in real life to attain. This begs the question, what is life like for the great majority of elderly African-Americans who aren’t overly nurturing like Aibileen Clark or bursting with godly wisdom like God or Nelson Mandela? How are they treated by hegemonic viewers of The Help and Million Dollar Baby?

The opposite affect occurs when African-Americans are disproportionately depicted as overly bad, criminal or deviant in the entertainment industry, which poses an even greater dilemma for real-life members of the black community. Almost any American gangster film demonstrates this kind of racist stereotyping, as gang leaders like Ving Rhames' character, Marcellus Wallace in Pulp Fiction are typically played by exceptionally dangerous looking black men. This tendency, when combined with the over-representation of black male criminality in the news, creates the notion that black men are dangerous and should therefore be feared to some degree by a hegemonic audience. Likewise, African-American women tend to be portrayed as deviant, sinful and overly sexual in certain types of films, which supports the Jezebel stereotype and ultimately encourages both black and hegemonic men to perceive real-life black women accordingly. Take Tracy Camilla Johns' character, Nola Darling in She's Gotta Have It, for example. Darling's deviant, hypersexual "nature" causes her to be involved with three men at once, making her an exotic sex symbol that is then reproduced through the devaluation of African-American women in society. Such a portrayal is not representative of black women any more than it is of white women, yet it is far more common to see black women selected to play deviant sexual roles in contemporary American films. 

While both the "too good" and "too bad" portrayals of African-Americans in the entertainment industry are flawed and degrading to African-Americans, neither is worse than the total erasure of black men and women in the film industry. And unfortunately, this is often the case. It is not inconsequential that African-Americans are often absent in romantic comedies and are over-represented in crime/gangster films. In the words of Herbert Marcuse, author of One-Dimensional Man, "The fact that the prevailing mode of freedom is servitude, and that the prevailing mode of equality is superimposed inequality is barred from expression by the closed definition of these concepts in terms of the powers which shape the respective universe of discourse" (pg. 88). 

The Kid's Contested Identity

Charlie Chaplin's silent film, The Kid, follows the story of an orphan boy from the moment his mother abandons him as a baby to the rambunctious and deviant childhood he develops on the street. Unlike most children, John is deprived of both fun and safety at birth, which leads him to adopt a somewhat adult-like outlook on the world during his youth. In some ways, this forced assimilation causes him to be more competent and less playful than other children usually are his age, as he cooks breakfast for his adoptive parent, Charlie, and helps him plot a scheme to make money. Yet on the other hand, John's deprivation of a carefree and safe childhood also results in a great deal of idle time, which he spends damaging others' property and engaging in fights with other orphans when he is bullied. Each of these dichotomous expressions of premature adulthood is reflective of a contested childhood in which normalcy is for the privileged.

In many ways, John's situation is a metaphoric representation of what it is like to grow up in a marginalized community like that of New Orleans post-Hurricane Katrina. Like John, many of the African-American children in the ghetto are deprived of a "normal" childhood, given that it is unsafe to play in dangerous neighborhoods and most children are not sheltered from the harsh reality of their poor, addict-filled community. Like John in The Kid, these children had no influence on their circumstance, but they still must either prematurely assimilate into the surrounding adult culture or seek unconventional (and often troublesome) ways of exercising their youth. Situations like this, unfortunately, are where a great deal of African-American stereotypes come from, as both the news and entertainment media reproduce criminal or pitiful portrayals of black youth. This, in turn, has an extremely damaging effect on the perception of African-Americans in contemporary American society, as they depreciate in the eyes of the hegemony and are treated accordingly through the institutions they dominate.

Yet the implications of structural inequality go far beyond this; on the flip side of the dichotomy is the production of benefits for those children who are privileged enough to have a traditional childhood. But what is normal about being showered with superfluous gifts on one's first birthday or expecting a college savings account at the ready by the time one turns eighteen?  What is healthy about being sheltered from life's forbidden fruits until one stumbles upon them himself, uneducated and intrigued? Arguably, traditional ideas about what it means to be a child are as equally damaging as the identity contested, although in a much different way. So does there exist a healthy middle ground between the traditional and contested identities of a child? Perhaps so, but it can neither be perfect nor permanent. In Herbert Marcuse's words, "We live and die rationally and productively. We know that destruction is the price of progress as death is the price of life, that renunciation and toil are the prerequisites for gratification and joy, that business must go on, and that the alternatives are Utopian" (pg. 145).

Agenda Setting and Priming: African-American Male Stereotypes in Contemporary Media

Degrading African-American stereotypes have permeated the American entertainment industry for as long as blacks and whites have cohabited the country, beginning with the exploitation of African-American slaves in the 16^th century and their later “blackface” representations in 19^th century minstrel shows at the theater. Contemporary American culture was therefore built upon a foundation of racism toward African-Americans and other minority groups alike, which continues to stain both the news and entertainment media to this day. Specifically, African-American men have continuously been over-represented in the media as deviant or criminal members of society and as a consequence, white members are continuously over-represented as the victims of black crimes. While these agenda setting techniques do not accurately reflect the demographics of criminality in the U.S., they are often used by both the news and entertainment media—intentionally or not—as a way of normalizing and apparently legitimizing African-American stereotypes within contemporary American culture.

Franklin D. Gilliam, Jr. and Shanto Iyengar discuss the media’s use of agenda setting and priming effects in the article, “Prime Suspects: The Influence of Local Television News on the Viewing Public.” According to Gilliam, Jr. and Iyengar, “Typically, what viewers learn about suspects is limited to visual attributes, most notably their race/ethnicity,” which ultimately creates and reinforces ideas about what it means to be a criminal. Given that African-American men are over-represented as criminals in the news, and that their race/ethnicity is more often noticed by hegemonic viewers than is the race of Caucasian perpetrators, the scholars discovered that the perceived correlation between black men and criminality is fabricated as a result of priming. In other words, exposure to black men as the face of criminality in the U.S. often leads to future judgments about African-American men as a group. These judgments, of course, vary depending on the space white members of society share with their black male counterparts. A white woman, for example, might feel uneasy or threatened in the presence of an African-American male alone on a street corner in the middle of the night, but she might feel somehow protected from him if she were walking with a white male by her side. The woman's perceived danger, in this case, is determined solely by the effects of priming, or the subsequent judgments she has made about African-American men due to her exposure to the black "face" of criminality in the U.S. 

Yet, not all priming stems from exposure to the over-representation of African-American men as criminals in the news media. In fact, the entertainment industry is arguably more responsible for the perpetuation of black male stereotypes in contemporary society. Take gangster films like Boys n the Hood, American Gangster or Pulp Fiction, for example. All of these films feature black men as the primary perpetrators of theft and violence, in addition to being heavy drug users/dealers. Exposure to this misrepresentation of African-American men as thugs and criminals only propagates the unfair treatment of black men in real life, as members of the hegemony continue to fear and condemn them due to the effects of priming. This begs the question: If gangster representations of African-American men in the media results in white fear, why are white Italian mobsters like those played by Al Pacino so revered? Just as Herbert Marcuse states in One-Dimensional Man, it seems that we are stuck in an "ever-more-comfortable life for an ever-growing number of people who, in a strict sense, cannot imagine a qualitatively different universe of discourse and action, for the capacity to contain and manipulate subversive imagination and effort is an integral part of the given society" (pg. 23). It seems that this way of thinking is more comfortable to hegemonic members of society because it reinforces their position of power over African-American men as a subordinate group.