Dear White People revisited
With the release of the Dear White People TV series on Netflix, I thought to re-watch the original film it was based on.
I remember eagerly waiting for its UK release, salivating over every trailer and snippet I could watch from it up until the moment I finally got to watch the full film. And well…. I was underwhelmed to say the least.
I was so upset by the film that I disregarded it until now. Upset is the wrong word, I had certain expectations of it and as it failed to deliver, I was disappointed. And that is why it is brilliant.
Upon a second viewing, I could appreciate the film more because I was able to accept a very important fact — blackness is not ubiquitous or universal. Simply put, what I or any other black person think of as blackness is not all encompassing or the right way to be black. This can be difficult to stomach due to the [in some cases] proudly held stereotypes black people occupy, and it is exactly these stereotypes or tropes that the film does a tremendous job of dismantling.
The story follows Samantha White; a junior, biracial hybrid of Spike Lee and Oprah studying media, shown as a strong proponent of black causes who spreads this message through her biting radio show the eponymous ‘Dear White People’. This image is somewhat tarnished when it is later revealed that she is dating a white teaching assistant. Why is this? Well because as much as love is love there is definitely still a stigma attached to interracial couples. Furthermore, her ultra-visibility as a black activist is undermined by her dating her supposed oppressor. Of course, in actuality not every white person actively promotes white supremacy but image is everything.
Image also is a key component of the character Colandrea”Coco” Conners, a sophomore studying economics who is characterised as a somewhat self-hating black woman but is much more. Although she shows clear self-loathing with lines like he’s “cute for a black boy”, her humanity can be glimpsed as it is plain she craves one of the most popular drugs around — fame. Looking at her through this lens we can interpret her actions as imitation of the prevailing beauty standards in an attempt to be seen and heard. This is intentionally tragic as her effort to be seen mirrors the similar struggle of all black women (of all shades, textures and sizes) to be seen, heard and listened to in the media specifically and the world generally. Ironically her attempts to distance herself from her blackness only serve to limit her appeal and only when she gets ‘real black’ with us does she start to attract the infamy she so desperately desires. Predictably this comes with the realisation of her deepest fear, her blackness drawing unwanted attention to her and the accompanying mockery.
Comedy and marijuana are hidden passions of Troy Fairbanks’ character, very different from his squeaky-clean exterior. Political science junior, son of the schools dean and a successful intelligent man, he is respectability politics personified. He is also a social butterfly who knows how to relate to everyone, usually by fluctuating his blackness to fit in and suppressing it entirely in certain circumstances. This is relatable to me as I unfortunately understand how one must alter themselves to exist in the world. Of course, this well-kept sculpture of himself is not perfect and those that get close to him learn his quirks such as his love of Star Trek and unspoken longing to be a comedy writer, a whim his father would never allow, if not just to let ‘them’ win.
Finally rounding off the list of main characters, we have undeclared sophomore Lionel Higgins a threefer; a nerdy,black gay student. He is at times the most relatable as we can all probably relate to his attempts to fit in with others. He ultimately outgrows his tokenism trope by not only being a central character but by being a driving force for change even when our titular hero, Samantha, seemingly absconds from her duties. This development is a far cry from his initially passive self-effacing demeanour.
It was satisfying seeing these complex and three dimensional characters evolve (or not in some cases) through the film illustrating that identity is malleable and cannot therefore be defined by any number of interests, hobbies, or inclinations.
Beyond this examination of blackness the movie also touches upon how that stereotypical image of blackness is used and often times exploited with the character of Coco showing this well. The film intelligently discusses how pervasive these stereotypes are with Troy’s girlfriend Sophia a prime example. She consistently switches up her parlance when around Troy by using words and phrases such as ‘thang’ and ‘DL shit’ and also is shown to increasingly fetishize him with things coming to a head when she mentions that it has been a while since in her words, he fucked her with his “big black cock”. Such sexualization is not uncommon and is even known as jungle fever and actually does not ensure that the person attracted to black people doesn’t carry and indeed act out on their own implicit bias.
The exploitation of blackness is a major subplot of the film as an unscrupulous TV producer looks to cash in on the unrest within the university by making a ‘documentary’ to highlight the tensions amongst the students while making bank. This kind of opportunistic dealing is a driving force behind some of today’s most popular programming such as The Real Housewives of Atlanta, Love & Hip Hop and Basketball Wives. Such shows mainly serve up conflict as the main attraction and thus promote negative stereotypes of black women while profiting off of them.
Perhaps most importantly the film explains the dangers of such stereotypes using the concept of black face. This ‘ritual’ of wearing a people as a costume serves to further caricature this marginalised group. This adds to the dehumanisation of black bodies which makes it easier for their lives to be taken as they are seen as thugs, criminals and niggers.
I was disappointed by Dear White People in my initial viewing because I saw it through the lenses of expectation and what I thought blackness looks like. Being a little wiser now I realise that the film is a tool to help broaden my understanding of blackness and hopefully others too so that we can better understand one another and thus see how truly similar we actually may be.
Peace and Love,
Aharoun the Author
