The other day I stumbled
upon Showbiz Is Glamorous, a
blog by actress and writer Erika
Alexander.
I’ve always liked
Alexander and the characters she played, whether “cousin Pam” from The Cosby Show, or the tactless and
hilarious Maxine Shaw from Living Single
(the lawyer
I wanted to be if I’d ever gotten it together enough to go to law school), or one
of various others from her numerous guest appearances on shows such as Law and Order and Suits.
(In 2010, Alexander apparently also had a recurring role on In Plain Sight, a show I really, really
enjoyed but didn’t start watching until late 2011—sorry Erika. I’m sure you
were fabulous.)
Alexander spent some time in Philly and attended Girls High, my alma
mater, and even though some of the worst moments of my life were had in that
school, I’m still proud to say I’m a graduate, and I always feel a bond with
fellow students no matter when or how long they attended.
But to shift gears a moment, Alexander has penned a script for the
television series Mad Men (you can
check it out here,) and that’s what I really want to talk about.
I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve watched Mad Men, but after reading Alexander’s
essay "Why
I Wrote a Mad Men Episode With Negroes," I decided to see what she’d
done.
And truly, I was riveted from the get go, finding in particular an
early scene at the ad agency, during which Pete and Roger talk to a prospective
client about marketing the client’s product to “Negroes,” to be fascinating.
Seriously, there is something about a tribunal of white folks discussing black
folks behind closed doors that’s irresistible. What will they say? What do they say about us behind closed
doors? Tell me! That’s how I feel, anyway.
Now, we could talk forever and a day about there not being enough
people of color represented on television, but the larger issue is not, and
never will be, the mere shortage of black and brown faces. The larger issue is the
dearth of quality stories of black and
brown people, and these stories aren’t normally created without the participation
of people of color, even though they’re not only relevant to us. In fact, some
of the most moving human stories
involve the intersection of black,
brown, and white society (think Crash,
The Help, and even The Long Walk Home) and Alexander’s script
does that. And I’m not gonna lie, it’s a little disheartening that, on the
whole, only black folks feel the lack, when white people should want more of these
stories told, too.
I believe that good art makes you long for something you didn’t even
know you we missing, and that’s how I felt after reading Alexander’s script. As
I said, I don’t watch Mad Men very
often, but darn, after viewing their world through Alexander’s eyes for a bit,
I felt the weight of a lost opportunity. As though I’d missed the pivotal
episode of my very favorite television show (and you know how
much I love television), but this was worse, because I just couldn’t catch it
On Demand or NetFlix or YouTube, because
it doesn’t actually exist. And that’s the real shame, because these
stories, our stories, are damn interesting, and they need a bigger forum.
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