Opinion: Black Characters Deserve Accuracy

Growing up as a Black girl in the suburbs, I always struggled to identify elements of myself in modern-day media. Whether it be books, movies or TV shows that I liked, I still remember the searching I would do in an attempt to find a character that looked like me. 

By Merriam-Webster’s definition, representation is “the action of presenting or describing a person or a thing, especially in a particular way.” 

However, I firmly believe there is more to representation than its dictionary definition. There is a right and wrong way to go about it, and unfortunately, much of the current Black representation in media is not only wrong, but deeply upsetting.

Common, Disappointing, Terrible Portrayals

If I were lucky enough to even find a good depiction of myself on television, it would typically be in the form of a “boxy” side character with a one-dimensional personality. 

The Mammy, The Jezebel, The Token Friend and The Sapphire are four common archetypes used to form the personality/character of Black women in media. Their characters can be easily broken down into: submissive, sexual, blank-slate and sassy. 

Growing up, a lot of the media I consumed was targeted toward children and prepubescent teenagers. Therefore, I saw a lot more of The Sapphire, as well as The Token Friend. These two tropes are often intertwined in some way. 

The Token Friend, better known as The Token Black Friend, typically has no real characteristics outside of being the main character’s sidekick or offering some sassy quip when a situation calls for it. We audience members never really get to know much about the character’s background and have a hard time defining their genuine purpose. Truthfully speaking, a lot of times they’re just there to fill in an unspoken quota for diversity. 

Characters I was exposed to with these tropes were Chastity from “10 Things I Hate About You” and Ivy from the Disney show “Good Luck Charlie.” These were characters that I enjoyed seeing onscreen a lot, but as I grew up, I began to realize how poorly thought out and portrayed they were.

And every Black girl watching is expected to identify with them? Hard pass.

‘But Wait, We Can Fix It!’ (Poorly) 

As conversations around representation evolve, Hollywood has attempted to backpedal and fix it. However, there is a very clear right and wrong way to do so.  

The right way: Make new stories involving Black female leads who don’t always have to come from a life of hardship and struggle structured around their race.  Seriously. Finding a soft-hearted African American female lead is like looking for a needle in a haystack. And I don’t mean Zendaya or Amandla Sternberg. 

The wrong way: Remake something that has already been done successfully with a white female lead, with a Black female lead. 

That hardly ever goes well. 

Case in point: the 2023 remake of Disney’s “The Little Mermaid.”

Growing up, Ariel was my favorite Disney princess. I loved the story, I loved Prince Eric and I loved the fact that she was a literal mermaid. She was all-in-all everything I wanted to be and more. And to me, the only reason I couldn’t get that life was because mermaids weren’t real. Not because Ariel was white and I am not. 

When the announcement came out that they were remaking this story with Halle Bailey as the lead, I was less than thrilled. 

This story had already been done and made its mark on pop culture everywhere. Not only was remaking it a poor decision, but to try to change the story in such a strong way? It just feels so overwhelmingly cheap. 

The remake resulted in so much backlash and racist controversy that the story no longer felt like it was about a mermaid anymore, it felt more like a battle between Bailey’s supporters and haters. To me, this defeated the whole purpose of her casting. 

When I’m asking for representation of myself in media, I want to watch a movie where the main character looks like me, talks like me, acts a little like me and is genuinely thoughtful and fleshed out. I want her to have her own story that is individual to her. 

What I don’t want is for these mainstream studios to take a story that was made with a specific character in mind, change her skin tone and brand it as something new. It’s not new, and it’s not all that impressive either. I, as a viewer, am not wowed in the slightest.  

Why is Good Representation Such a Big Deal, Anyway?

Everyone deserves to know that they’re not the only person who looks, speaks, acts or walks the way they do, or whatever it is that distinguishes them from others. Good representation allows for individuals like myself to see a reflection of who they are that isn’t just in the mirror, or in the family that they grew up with. 

Being able to identify and align with someone projected on screen, hundreds of miles away, can make all the difference in whether a young Black girl straightens her hair to look like someone else, or wears it naturally. 

Representation doesn’t just apply to Black people either. It goes for everyone who lives their life in the minority, no matter how big or small their community is. And the sooner we as human beings begin to truly understand and accept that, the sooner we can begin to include all kinds of people, onscreen and off.