Bravo storytelling seems off, and it's impacting their shows. The Real Housewives of Atlanta reunion dashed all hopes of a miracle turnaround. The reunion suffered because there weren't any strong stories during the season. Drew's music career and later her marriage woes were the only adequately explored stories. We didn't get personal stories from the other castmates. We got personal scenes, but topics never evolved or reached any meaningful resolution.
Story is essential to screen-based media from documentaries to scripted television and films. Story gives you the context, tells you the stakes, and provides needed exposition. Story reveals character. It's how we get to know these women. Bravo has been giving us stand-alone conflict scenes, hindering our investment in the cast. (Consider the RHONY reboot: What does Brynn do for a living? What is going on in Ubah's life?) RHOA has always been heavy on personal stories. Seeing Kim's singing journey, Nene's quest to find her father, Sheree's divorce, Phaedra's pregnancy, Cynthia and Peter's financial struggles, Porsha's seeming controlling husband allowed viewers to connect with cast members as human beings. Focusing solely on conflict makes the women come across as petty and childish. There's nothing aspirational about being petty and childish. Another element missing from the storytelling is aspiration. Once upon a time, I tuned into RHOA to see their handbags and shoes, to see what hotspots in Atlanta would be featured that week, to look at their homes and copy their decor. Now, we tune in and see them check into a pedestrian hotel in Birmingham. They're having conversations in the kitchen wearing sweats. The visual quality is suffering, and the quality of a visual production is like real estate. Brands will do product placements and buy ad space if the show's aesthetic aligns with the brand image. If I were an exec at Bravo, I'd make sure the dailies received were beautiful, in terms of all elements of mise en scene. Getting this kind of aspirational footage requires trust. You need the women to open up their homes knowing their boundaries will be respected, meaning camera operators won't trespass into closets without the consent of the homeowner. Castmembers need to feel safe inviting the cast and crew into high-stakes events like fundraisers and business launches, knowing that no other cast member will bring in a marching band or disrespect a family's legacy. They need to know they can go on a cast trip and engage in adult behavior without the footage being used against them to create a scandal. For these women to open up, the fear of being exposed or exploited has to be addressed. That's not too much to ask. A good cast also needs to be in place. The ideal Sweet Sixteen cast would involve swapping out Kenya and Kandi for Porsha and Phaedra. We need to return to focusing on lifestyle and laughs. The Season 15 cast was too divided, and Porsha and Phaedra can bring friendship and fun while giving viewers a needed sense of nostalgia. A seventh housewife is needed, someone who was either born or raised in Georgia. What's missing from RHOA is a specific sense of filming in Atlanta. The people who have long-term roots in Georiga have the strongest and most organic stories. There has to be a magnetic woman, who is a CEO, investor, or Atlanta Braves' wife who is willing to appear on the show. If Andy Cohen has to reach out to Princess, the creator of RHOA, then do it. Cast members who get along with each other and with the physical production crew are important to making a great show. Finally, closure could help the show. Bravo seems to discard housewives, and this practice enrages fan bases. It appears Bravo did not value Nene, Porsha, or Phaedra. Ratings have struggled to reach a million viewers since their departures. A sit down between Nene and Andy Cohen ahead of the Sweet Sixteen premiere could be the salve needed to heal the fanbase. In this sit-down, Andy should apologize to Nene and express gratitude for her contribution to the network. The sit-down could continue with one-on-one interviews with the OG cast and Princess. Viewers must see these women literally and figuratively receive their flowers from Andy at the end of the special. In addition, Bravo should give Kenya the Paris spinoff she pitched to Bravo and coordinate the airing of Kenya and Kandi's spin-offs to follow RHOA Season 16. That way, there aren't hundreds of thousands of pissed-off fans avoiding the series. In all, returning to the original, RHOA docuseries template is necessary. Story, stellar mise en scene, and closure are needed to bring this series back from the dead. As simple as these elements are, I highly doubt Bravo will implement all three given their track record. The Nene Leakes interview on Carlos King’s podcast is needed. The two hours of content are more entertaining than the last few seasons of The Real Housewives of Atlanta. Nene’s classic candidness perfectly matches the frank interviewing style of Carlos King. It’s what’s missing from the franchise: realness, openness, and transparency. Other housewives should take note. There is a way to be forthright while protecting one’s privacy. It’s a balance that Nene has perfected.
It must be said that Carlos King is helping to create a level of Black reality TV commentary that doesn’t exist. I call his podcast and YouTube recaps the reality ESPN. Yes, there are many voices commenting on reality TV, but very few people have formal educational training and/or experience in media. And it shows. Carlos carves a space that’s rooted in expertise. He is not my favorite person, but I look to his knowledge, experience, and relationships—even when we disagree. Nene’s interview demonstrates that Black women in the public eye must be humble or humbled. Martin Lawrence, Will Smith, Bill Cosby were all stars of their respective shows. Very few would challenge this thought. However, Queen Latifah and Tracee Ellis Ross can’t call themselves “stars” of their ensemble series. Black women must always demonstrate magnanimity. The consequence for failing to do so is subjection to a harsh form of public humbling. It’s an entrenched and unquestioned ritual that is ripe with misogynoir. The way Nene claims her success is unbecoming in the eyes of many. I love it, and I’m happy to see it. Shine on Ms. Leakes. The Leakes/King tour seems like it's a go. Hope Carlos contacts his former boss, Oprah, and gets her tour connections. Also, the first stop had better be ATL. The interview cleared up many misconceptions, confirmed some rumors, and helped Nene clarify some matters, specifically her relationship with Bryson. If the interview is any indication of the tour, it’s going to be worth seeing. Nene Leakes has done so much for everyday Black women, especially dark-skin Black women, who excel in the workplace but who are forced to conceal our strengths. I’m going to end this post with the first stanza of Maya Angelou’s famous poem: “You may write me down in history With your bitter, twisted lies, You may trod me in the very dirt But still, like dust, I'll rise.” -Maya Angelou, “Still I Rise” Relationships are complicated, especially long-term ones. What we’re seeing play out between Marlo and Kandi isn’t as unusual as some viewers are attempting to make it. Marlo’s issue with Kandi is very logical and clear.
Marlo opposed her castmates attempts to sanitize the shooting that occurred at Kandi’s establishment. It was a simple request: say “shooting.” Here’s the thing: There was a shooting. It was covered by popular blogs and respected news media outlets. It is wholly fair to call a thing a thing. Kandi had no problem articulating that Sheree’s website crashed, that Sheree is not making use of the most well-known Housewives brand, She by Sheree, that she attempted to help Sheree with her website, but Sheree didn’t want to compensate them. If Kandi can say all that about Sheree’s business. They can say shooting. What needs to be cleared up is Marlo didn’t attach her nephew’s shooting to Kandi’s business until Drew gaslighted her. To gaslight means to get someone to question their reality. Drew attempted to convince Marlo that she was cavalier in her use of the word “shooting” because Marlo had no personal experience with gun violence, and Drew set herself up as the martyr from Chicago who knows all things gun violence. This interaction is what triggered Marlo. In the episode, she continuously said, “My blood nephew died” to confirm her reality. We use the word trigger so often, that when we see an actual moment of triggering, it goes unnoticed. This turn is where the conflict becomes significant. I think everyone has been in a situation where you wished someone had responded differently in the past, and a present situation brings up those old feelings. We saw this happen with Kanye and Jay Z. Years after Kim and Kanye’s wedding, Jay Z and Beyonce moved to California. Kanye was triggered that they never brought the kids over for a play date, and this brought up the pain of Jay Z missing his wedding. Same with Marlo. Kandi’s nephew getting shot by someone he knew through work, brought up those feelings for Marlo. And she simply stated she wished her friend had done more like send flowers, or a card, or call her family. All reasonable and normal stuff that relationships are all about. Kandi and the other castmates reactions though remind us we’re watching a show. Drew, Kenya, and Kandi took Marlo’s simple words and turned them into an attack on Kandi’s businesses. This is the typical melodrama that Kenya and Kandi like to fabricate. Let’s not forget that Kenya spent Season 12 on a retributive mission against Nene because she claimed Nene called Brooklyn a buffalo. How stupid. We’re all familiar with the antiquated tendency to say a pregnant woman looks like she’s having a buffalo, but it was Kandi who told Kenya that Nene called Brooklyn a buffalo. That quarrel was stupid, and so is the claim that Marlo is trying to bring down Kandi’s businesses. No one will stop streaming “Who Can I Run To?” because Marlo said Kandi didn’t send flowers. Absolutely no one is cancelling their Blaze reservations for their upcoming afterwork gatherings because Marlo said Kandi didn’t reach out to her family. Kandi has built a fanbase from the 90’s. We’re not going anywhere. It’s not happening because the shooting is on brand. Courtney called Kandi ghetto. It was wrong, but unfortunately Courtney’s perspective is an embedded aspect of social relations in Atlanta. ATLiens have a saying: “You flew here; I grew here.” Many transplants don’t understand social dynamics. There is a North-South side divide in Atlanta. People from North Atlanta consider South Atlanta low brow and often only visit South Atlanta for the airport. This is why most of the sports teams and cultural institutors moved their venues farther north of Highway I-20. What Courtney said is a reverberating theme and speaks to how people see Kandi. Let’s not forget that Xscape introduced themselves to the world as the “ghetto En Vogue.” The idea that Kandi and her businesses are part of a Chitlin Circuit is what really bothers Kandi. She could address the issue in a more meaningful way, as Phaedra dealt with the stigma of the father of her children going to prison. Phaedra openly expressed her concerns and used the Housewives platform to support children of incarcerated parents even going to Washington, D.C. to meet with lawmakers on camera. Kandi could do the same regarding workplace violence. What is happening verifies Marlo’s point: Kandi doesn’t deal with the ACTUAL issue. The issue isn’t that Marlo is attacking Kandi’s business. The issue is Marlo felt Kandi could have done more, and that’s Marlo’s prerogative. Not dealing with the actual issue is Kandi’s pattern. Rewind to season 14. Kenya didn’t appreciate the dungeon invitation to see Kandi’s Broadway play, and Kenya rejected Kandi’s request to wear panties that allowed random people to buzz her clitoris throughout the night. Kenya couldn’t see the connection between sex games and Kandi’s Broadway play. It was a logical position. Kandi didn’t deal with this actual issue. As usual, she turned it into a personal attack. She claimed that they were all making her out to be some freak, and then Kandi accused Kenya of “having a past” herself. Same with Mama Joyce. We’re on Season 15, and Kandi has yet to deal with the actual issue of Mama Joyce subjecting her husband, and kids, to emotional abuse. That’s the actual issue. Instead, Kandi frames it as if it’s a simple disagreement. No. It’s abuse, child. Kandi can handle things however she wants in her personal life. The issue is how it impacts the show. Her blowups stunt the progression of stories. It’s part of the reason why we think she’s so boring. If there isn’t an active dispute in Kandi’s life, you can’t get anything out of her. She’s not like a Porsha, who when she was on the outs with all the ladies in Season 10, was hilariously trying to reinvent herself as a vegan or like Nene who took the girls to the energy reader to confront their elephants. You’re not going to get those funny introspective scenes from Kandi. The larger problem that impacts the show is how cast members pull rank. If Nene Leakes had left filming the way that Kandi stormed out, although she escalated the situation to violence, people would be calling Nene unprofessional, telling her she needs to quit. But Kenya, Kandi, and sometimes Drew, have been seemingly controlling production. Refusing to discuss particular topics, leaving filming early, demanding that certain people be removed from the scene, as Drew did to Marlo. All of those rank-pulling antics impact the producers’ ability to deliver stories to the viewers. That’s my biggest issue with this season. It feels like there is nothing there because cast members are refusing to give. The cast members are engaging in a classist, elitist, sexist shaming and dismissing of Marlo. It would be wise of RHOA producers to avoid supporting these acts. Yes. Marlo has a record. Yes, Marlo was in foster care. Marlo is also a college graduate who opened her own boutique at Perimeter Mall in North Atlanta, Georgia on her own. It’s sad that Kandi who too was slut-shamed concerning her relationship with Jermaine Dupri while she was a member of Xscape would undermine another woman’s accomplishments in the same way that people attempted to undermine her talent. In the words of Phaedra Parks, “Fix it, Jesus.” Think it’s safe to give up on the idea of The Real Housewives of Atlanta’s great return. The problem with the current season is twofold: one, the cast seem unwilling to give organic personal stories. Two, in my opinion, Bravo is more interested in producing fights than stories.
As a I wrote in my first post, Kandi is a millionaire songwriter, and Kenya is a Miss USA. Unfortunately, they are not compelling enough to bring eyeballs on this format. The truth is Nene, Phaedra, and Porsha leading RHOA would be hilariously entertaining and a rating success. Kandi and Kenya can’t pull it off, and firing Marlo Hampton will not change that. RHOA once was the Chicago Bulls of Bravo, and if we’re honest, Nene was/is Jordan. But fans claimed, “Kandi’s Instagram followers are boosting the ratings,” and “Kenya is the shade assassin.” Kandi and Kenya stepped onto a winning team. The interactions between Nene, Kim, and Sheree and the strength of their personal stories built a funny and magnetic foundation, and a blueprint for reality TV ensemble casts. Still, the problem is bigger than Kandi and Kenya and the current cast. The production of reality TV shows featuring recurring ensemble casts has dropped developing strong stories in favor of centering explosive fights. Drew Sidora’s music venture was the only adequately explored personal story of late. It could be compelling if Drew didn’t come off as an actress playing a real housewife. Her phone call to Kandi seemed like a producer-prompted attempt to create a conflict between Kandi and Courtney. Scenes like this one jolt the audience out of our investment in the supposed reality and cause us to question the show’s authenticity. Production didn’t take the time to introduce Courtney to viewers prior to her conflict with Kandi. As a result, we don’t care about the disagreement because we don’t know Courtney. Imagine if RHOA production had cut all of Marlo’s prior scenes, and we met her in South Africa in the battle against Sheree. That would have been awkward. This pattern of presenting abrupt conflict has continued since Season 13. We didn’t know Drew and Ralph, but we were thrust into their marital fight ridiculously early in either episode 1 or 2. Watching the show often feels like when you’re out to dinner with friends, and the couple they invited gets into an intense, personal dispute at the table. It’s uncomfortable and embarrassing. It makes people want to get up and leave, and that is exactly what viewers are doing. The other issue is current cast members don’t seem interested in sharing their real lives. We haven’t discussed Mark Daly. Talk about the elephant in the room. With what Kenya has given this season, she might be better off as a friend. Similarly, Kandi shares her life, but it’s a carefully produced version of her life. When was the last time we got an organic moment from Kandi, like when she was crying her heart out to Cynthia about her mother’s hatred of Todd or her failed wedding dress fitting that ended with Momma Joyce threatening Carmon Season 6? To be fair, the castmates have learned the reality TV terrain has changed. As many commentators astutely noted concerning Robyn Dixon concealing Juan Dixon’s alleged affairs, the Housewives Universe is no longer about women opening their lives; it has become about women “getting” other castmates. Makes sense that cast members are unwilling to be vulnerable under conditions where they feel cast and producers are out to get them. Let’s not forget, according to Robyn Dixon, that producers asked Robyn if any topics were off limits, and Robyn said she preferred to keep the minute details of her financial issues with Juan off camera. After this conversation, Robyn states Ashley began to share on camera the very aspects that Robyn told producers she wanted protected. In my view, this is the kind producer betrayal that ruins series. They could have probed Robyn about it in her interviews in lieu of seemingly setting up a castmate to embarrass her. Kandi and Kenya aren’t stupid. I’m sure they realize producers are simply looking for conflict. Instead of sharing their lives, everyone creates contrived moments to deliver an “iconic line.” It seems the producers confided in Marlo about Kandi and Kenya coasting. I agree with that sentiment. They are coasting. However, it isn’t Marlo’s job to bring out anything in Kandi and Kenya. It is Marlo’s job to bring out the best of her own storyline. Every housewife has one job: to be a real housewife. It gets tired when castmates like Gizelle, Marlo, and Lisa Rinna go into Inspector Gadget mode and investigate/instigate their castmates. Calm your happy, producer pet, ass down and share YOUR life. This whole discussion about recasting all talent has been propelled by four cast members who openly targeted Marlo on Twitter, calling for her firing. Yes, Marlo takes things too far, but so has Kenya Moore (Let’s not forget her pulling out Kim Fields’s chair, pulling Nene’s ear, using a bullhorn to taunt Porsha, and threatening to beat up Phaedra “pregnant and all”). If we start from the beginning and not in the middle, Marlo has every right to be upset with Kandi. If we go back to Season 4, Phaedra introduced Marlo to the group when Marlo was dating Charles Grant. The women (allegedly Kandi, Phaedra, and Sheree) wanted Marlo and Charles on the show to blow up Nene’s spot and expose Nene’s “cheating,” although she was separated from Greg. This moment was the first real bring down a marriage storyline on RHOA. Kandi never disclosed the extent of her relationship with Marlo during Season 4. Andy Cohen was taken aback when Kandi admitted at the Season 14 reunion that Marlo dated her cousin, only after Marlo divulged it. When Marlo and Nene became friends, Kandi seemingly turned-on Marlo and insinuated that Marlo was a high-paid escort. Kandi was the one who initiated the baseless, inappropriate sexual comments about Marlo, which Kenya intensified. Marlo got her peach, and she returned serve, throwing the same shade that Kandi originally threw at her. The problem is many current viewers are unfamiliar with the early seasons of RHOA. As a result, it’s difficult to explore a storyline that originates 11 years in the past. Let the demise of RHOA be a lesson. Bravo, and many commentators, believe Housewives cast mates are replaceable, as if the Real Housewives platform is the star. It is not. Nene Leakes, her humor, and her longstanding relationships with the equally outspoken Kim and Sheree made producing reality TV look easy. But I hope everyone learns that it takes magnetic personalities to attract and keep viewer attention. The Housewives Brand is not the star; The housewives are the stars. How can the network rebuild the series without Nene, Phaedra, and Porsha? Should there be a total overhaul or is it simply time for Kandi and Kenya to move on with Bravo or E! spin-off series? Either way, we the viewers must deal with another underwhelming season of one of the most beloved reality TV shows in history. The Real Housewives of Atlanta Season 15 got a lot right. It's moving back to privileging personal stories that put the women's conflicts in perspective. Producing the personal stories of reality stars grants interiority, rounds them out as three-dimensional people. There isn't much drama, as in personal conflict, in the life of a woman over 35. We typically no longer reside with our nuclear families or friends who are the sources of that type of drama. For RHOA to resonate again with large amounts of viewers who are the ages of women on the show, it's important to create stories that align with their stage of life. Producers are doing a good job, and much of it connects to the recasting of Sheree Whitfield.
My awareness of Sheree Whitfield proceeds RHOA. The network for which I interned in college produced a community affairs TV show about the Who's Who of Atlanta, and Sheree was featured circa 2004. At that time, she owned her boutique, Bella Azul (think that was the name). It was a beautiful place. She was married to her husband, NFL star Bob Whitfield. Football players and their wives, the rich ones, are influential in Atlanta, and in the South more broadly. They serve on boards and donate a lot of money to nonprofits. They give the staff free game tickets, pay for lunches, and donate supplies. It's awesome, and businesses love and respect them for it. Speaking as a learned professional, I knew Sheree was "the ish" in Atlanta, although I hadn’t met her. However, producers cultivated an image of Sheree as a perennial eff-up. Not sure if the series needed a designated villain or if she pissed off production and got a bad edit as payback. Whatever the reasons, we never saw Sheree as Sheree, frequenting exclusive celebrity spots, hanging out with her celebrity friends, attending amazing parties. Although Sheree had a background as a fashion entrepreneur, the show portrayed her as a "football wife" who up and decided to start a fashion line. This portrayal of Sheree made me disinterested in her story. It reminds me of the portrayal of Dr. Wendy Osefo. We never saw her nursing her newborn daughter. It's like the "new mother image" was occupied by Ashley. We never saw her cook for her family, although she states she does it every day. That domesticity is seemingly reserved for Karen, and often Gizelle. This season, we're seeing Sheree thrive unlike prior seasons. The thing is Sheree is a stellar housewife. She exudes that OG (Original Girl is a term coined by Nene Leakes) effortless, over-the-topness, and it's magnetic. She and Marlo are the only true links to the OG era and to Nene Leakes. For that, she has the potential to woo back many fans of that era who were turned off by the Mob Wives (CBS) style drama that culminated with Season 9. It's my fear that the personal story will start to wane, and subsequent episodes will focus on interpersonal strife. It seems RHOA producers are trying to court younger viewers who grew up watching The Bad Girls Club (Oxygen). The loyal RHOA viewers are Generation X and Xennials, who watched Kimora Life in the Fab Lane (Style) and Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous. We have a very different idea of reality TV. We want aspirational. That's literally Marketing and Branding 101 that you learn in undergrad. Viewers can take a lot from scripted TV characters and stories. We routed for romance between Erica Kane and Dimitri Marick of All of My Children (ABC), although Erica was a homewrecker. We were very much interested in who shot J.R. on Dallas (CBS). But Reality TV is a more vicarious experience, because viewers recognize what occurs impacts people's lives. The treachery, violence, and backstabbing doesn't work. We feel bad for these people. Why would I want to feel bad every week? I want to laugh, but not at the expense of a person's misfortune. Producers should rethink Kandi's image for this reason. It seems like she (and Kenya) consistently has takedown relationships with other cast members. No one wants a friend who spreads rumors about how you make your money, no one wants a friend who yells out in public that they will blow up on your ass or head butt you, and no one wants a friend who tells you they can pay for every mf-er in here. Kandi has been one of my favorite artists since middle school. Her image on RHOA has been disappointing. I think producers assumed Kandi's large instagram following was the source of the massive viewership, but Nene's departure debunked that myth. Producers should explore Kandi's life as Kandi. We should see her at sports games, in meetings with the mayor, hosting Roc Nation lunches. Also, we need to explore why her family complains that she doesn't prioritize them. What's really going on there? The world is changing, and women over a certain age don't have (have never had) 1950 housewife lives. Black women have made more than their Black husbands due to racism. Black women have had to become "othermothers," which is why it's a term of published Black feminist thought. Many women can relate to Kandi, Marlo, and Sheree, but we need to see more authentic interactions like Marlo's therapy session with her nephews. That scene was so real; I almost called my mom to watch it with me. Overall, the season is going in the right direction. I just hope we don’t' end up back in the dungeon, but the presence of the volatile Martel Holt of Love and Marriage: Huntsville (OWN) suggests we will descend into excessive bickering. Let's get back to dramatic conflict. Dramatic conflict is defined as the following: a protagonist has a goal and there is strong opposition and stakes. Dramatic conflict is usually a question in the mind of the viewer like will Nene and Greg save their marriage and family with two kids in the midst of financial changes and friendship betrayals? Will Porsha rebuild her life and make it on her own after her husband blindsided her with a divorce, placing her in financial precarity? How will Phaedra, the "high-class attorney" (Nene's words), mantain a marriage with a formerly incarcerated person in status-conscience Atlanta? That's dramatic conflict. Kenya acting like an eighth grader and confronting Sheree about her date is interpersonal conflict. It's the producer's job to get to the stakes. Why would the audience care about this? Why are these grown women acting like this? How will it impact their relationships? Bring in real scenes at real events with the women's real friends and families. Feuds are great for scripted drama, but if RHOA is going to return to greatness, it has to create balance by returning to personal and aspirational stories. Maybe we'll see a Renaissance. The Real Housewives of Potomac fails to deal with the complexity of Black women’s lives. In my opinion, the show reduces multifaceted issues to simple right/wrong, black/white matters. This handling of issues is compounded by the production process. The intermittent nature of physical production for TV and film often leads to women of a certain age, who carry the burden in this society of dependent care, to opt out of physical production jobs. As a result, the onset crew typically consists of people assigned male at birth and/or very young women. Similarly, in the social media sphere, men overwhelmingly produce the content concerning RHOP and RHOA. This means the perspectives of Black women viewers of a certain age are largely marginalized.
Let’s take colorism for example. Colorism is a facet of antiblackness and White supremacy. As I’ve stated in prior posts, colorism is not a personality flaw. It is a hierarchical social system that privileges people with perceived proximity to Whiteness. I am paraphrasing Candiace’s words from the reunion because she did not misspeak, she was not inflammatory, nor was she off-base. Colorism is not, as Ashley seemingly contended, a preoccupation with skin color. As a hierarchical system based on power, the powerless e.g., dark-skin people cannot reverse colorism. Hostility can be directed from darker-skin people to lighter skin people, but power is not that easily redistributed across space and time. A major aspect of colorism, being a structural component of antiblackness and White supremacy, is the systematic, almost automatic, subjection of darker skin people to wanton violence. Wanton violence can be physical violence to blatant disregard for one’s kinship relations to exclusion from certain spaces. Watching RHOP, we see a different standard of interaction for people who fall on the desirable of side of the colorism system versus the people who do not. This differential treatment is accepted as the norm. This is where I take issue with Dr. Wendy interjecting and redirecting Candiace. As a learned scholar, it is incumbent upon Dr. Wendy to clarify misperceptions. I remember when BET’s Teen Summit was on the air in the 90s. Many misconceptions about HIV and AIDS were rampant at that time. It was on Teen Summit that I learned from an expert that straight, cisgender, Black women were contracting HIV at high rates from partners who were both straight and male-identified. It was on Teen Summit that I learned HIV and AIDS are not interchangeable terms. When an expert is in the room, it is your obligation to clarify common (mis)understandings of a particular matter. Here’s my concern with the issue. When Wendy interjected, she corrected Candiace in three ways. First, she gave the impression that Candiace’s delivery was unbecoming. Wendy stated “I know you’re angry.” I read this statement as tone-policing. Tone policing is a microaggression. It is characterized by amplifying a person’s tone of voice or demeanor, using it to dismiss the significance of the content of the message. Tone policing also works to minimize and/or justify the harm done to marginalized people. The other issue with Wendy’s correction of Candiace’s statement was she mischaracterized Candiace’s words. In the clip offered by Bravo, we did not hear Candiace say anything about Gizelle’s “White skin.” Candiace used the phrases White-looking and proximity to Whiteness. Colorism is about proximity to Whiteness. I am all for correcting one’s friend when she needs correction. In this instance, however, there was nothing to correct. Relatedly, Wendy implied that Candiace was engaging in reverse-colorism by commenting on Gizelle’s complexion. As a I stated earlier, colorism is a power-based system, and darker-skin people cannot reverse it. If Dr. Wendy lacked the range on this topic, she should have remained silent. Wendy’s behavior in that scene exemplifies a larger problem that I see with the darker brown girls on Potomac. They have a pattern of throwing each other under the bus to gain favor. In season three, Monique shared Candiace’s view that Gizelle and Charisse were in fact attempting to son Candiace, and Monique encouraged Candiace to forcefully confront it. Then, at dinner when Gizelle and Charisee were present, Monique critiqued Candiace’s delivery to secure her place as the lesser excluded one. In season four, Candiace returned serve when she spread the misperception to Gizelle that Monique called Katie a slave. Again, Candiace seemed to frame Monique as ignorant to earn her spot as the model brown girl. Similarly, in season six, Candiace sided with Gizelle and Robyn when they stated Wendy was behaving aggressively. Remember, Candiace placed Wendy in the cottage to make Mia “feel comfortable.” Those were Candiace’s words. I need the "brown girls" (Candiace's phrase) to cease with the intramural policing. You will never be favored in an antiblack, colorist system. You will end up like Monique: off the show. It is disappointing to see this pattern season after season. When Monique came on my screen on season two, I thought she would be the Maya Wilkes (Girfriends, Viacom), calling the cards of these uppity Black women with relatable and timely shade. However, Monique succumbed to the pressure and subjected Candiace to wanton violence. In a colorist system, that kind of physical violence cannot be directed at the people who have the "complexion for projection" (Gizelle and Robyn) as Paul Mooney would say. It’s my hope that Candiace, Wendy, and Karen, who have all been subjected to colorist-classist exclusion, will get together and work through the moments they have felt unsupported by the other. If we’re honest, Bravo made Gizelle the face of the show, but Candiace and Karen are the fan favorites. Like Nene, they bring the eyeballs. It would be real to see these Black women say, “you hurt me.” I don’t want to see them move on or participate in fake resolution scenes orchestrated by (male) producers. It’s unhealthy to expect people to brush significant matters under the rug and work in a hostile environment. No, I want to see them take the time to express their experiences and work through them. That would be a good show that connects to Black women viewers. We respond to colorism, and other forms of oppression, with variations of “Everything is not about colorism” because we’re rehearsed to do so in a White supremacist society. First, colorism, racism, homophobia, antiblackness, etc. are not personality flaws, as I’ve stated in a prior post. They are systems that order our world. Most school principals would not say their schools are patriarchal, but many principals would proceed to describe gender-based dress codes that police and punish the sartorial choices of girls. Ask the principal the reasoning for the codes, and they will say something along the lines of “We don’t want these girls distracting the boys.” That’s patriarchy, a system that orders social relations in a way that privileges cisgender (typically White, straight, affluent) men. We learn to deny oppressive systems because we’re taught to acknowledge and protect the assumed superiority of a particular group. Acknowledging the existence of an unjust system, also acknowledges the group’s privileges and power are unjust—that is the big no-no. To benefit from these systems, people deny their existence because said people want to keep their jobs, their friends, and their social standing (invitation to Bravocon)—even if they are members of the group oppressed by the system.
Colorism has a long history that extends from slavery. The darker-tone Africans who lived in the Sub-Saharan region of the continent were designated as “Black,” marking them suitable for chattel slavery. White men like Thomas Jefferson clearly stated the dark skin color of Africans rendered them the inferior race (Google it). Across Africa and the African Diaspora, wherever colonialism took root, an intra-racial color system emerged. We who attended U.S. schools are very familiar with this system. We know that lighter skin Blacks were afforded proximity to Whites. These lighter-skin Blacks often received privileges such as educational opportunities, release from slavery, and land inheritance. Such access gave these lighter-skin Blacks advantages over other Blacks, although the U.S. remained a brutally racist and segregated society after the Civil War and the enactments of the 13th, 14th, and 15th U.S. Constitutional Amendments. These privileged Blacks became the powerful leaders of the Black community. W.E.B. Du Bois’s famous phrase, “The Talented Tenth” refers to this group: an educated, light-skin elite who would uplift the folk. Individuals who claim The Real Housewives of Potomac (RHOP) is disconnected from colorism are unequivocally wrong and historically incorrect. The social organization that served as the basis of the Potomac group which became RHOP is directly connected to the color-class-based, exclusive, historically Black social club system in the United States. I encourage readers of this blog to check out When and Where I Enter by Paula J. Giddings and Righteous Discontent by Evelyn Brooks Higginbotham to learn more about the Black women’s club movement. The colorism that viewers identify on RHOP is complex. Colorism is historically connected to socioeconomic class (a complex term in itself), and it is also a gendered system. And when we say colorism, we are referring to a wide range of phenotypical traits that are stereotypically associated with Europeans versus Black Africans such as nose width, hair texture, and lip fullness. It is not simply about skin color. What we see on Potomac is a system of ordering that structures privileges and punishments depending upon whether the individuals fall on the favorable side of this complex matrix of factors. For instance, fans attempt to dismiss accusations of colorism by pointing out that Gizelle and Robyn target Karen. Yes, Karen is light-skin, and she is middle-class. However, according to standards, Karen is not the right kind of middle class. Gizelle made this distinction clear when she rebutted Karen with the words, “I have a legacy and a pedigree. You grew up on a farm.” If an individual is not the right kind of middle-class, cast members are often accepted if they get on board with maintaining the order. Early on in season six, Wendy Osefo clocked Mia Thorton’s attempt to curry favor with the green-eyed bandits, even though Mia was introduced to the show by Karen. Now, Bravo footage shows Mia directing physical aggression at the darker-tone women of the cast, while she pardons the condescension and ridicule directed at her by Gizelle and Robyn. Readers can learn about such dynamics by reading Negroland by Margo Jefferson. What is important in this discussion about colorism is a willingness to learn and to listen in new ways. Often, we revert to reactions that we’ve acquired such as gaslighting and denial, but we have to question who is served by these responses. Also, I want to reiterate that colorism is not an individual flaw; it is a historical social system. The way we create a more equitable society is by questioning the taken-for-granted norms, acts, and rituals that maintain such systems. I see a recurring pattern on reality TV: a narcissist abuses a Black woman. The Black woman is gaslighted, and the narcissism is rationalized as the woman’s just desserts. Take Porsha’s Family Matters (Bravo). This past episode was painful to watch. There was yelling. A lot of standing up. Blows were thrown. What happened before the physical altercation is what got my attention: Porsha observed, firsthand, Dennis’s interactions with her younger cousin, Storm. As Dennis stated in his confessional, he’d only seen Storm come around Porsha once a year on holidays in the five years he’s known Porsha. It seems that seeing the consistent treatment in-person caused an alarm to go off for Porsha when Dennis shouted at Storm to “shut the fuck up” for the second time.
The sirens went off immediately for me when details of Dennis’s working relationship with Storm and his sexual relationship with another employee were disclosed. It is my understanding that Dennis is not a manager, hired as a waitress is hired; he is the owner of several establishments. Even if these relationships are consensual, an employee-boss relationship always entails disparate power dynamics. You have a horrible manager, complain to HR. If you have an issue with the owner, you’re fired. Not only are you fired, but the owner has the power to tarnish your reputation amongst other owners who comprise their network. I refrained from writing about this seeming sex-power imbalance to avoid putting out that kind of energy regarding the father of Porsha’s daughter. Now that Storm has openly characterized her experiences with Dennis as sexual harassment, I can say that it walks like a duck, and it quacks like a duck. Why does he seem so entitled to the obedience, gratitude, and respect of Storm, a 23-year-old woman? Dennis appears as a textbook narcissist. I do not know him, nor am I a therapist. My impression is purely speculative. However, a narcissist is amiable, funny, easy-going, an all-around people person. They use their emotional intelligence to secure friends and to prey upon people. Londie made clear for viewers the longstanding rift in Porsha’s family: It’s the Williams, the upper middle-class, educated, and cultured offspring of the civil rights hero, Hosea Williams. And there’s the “country bumpkins,” to use Londie’s words, aka Porsha’s mother’s side of the family. It appears that Dennis and his mother, recognizing this longstanding familial divide, have cozied up to the Williams’ side and fuel discontent. Porsha’s family is complicit. We heard Aunt Liz tell Dennis’s mother that she needs to get to the know the “real” Williams family. Boundary violation. We saw Dennis use Londie and Lauren to do his bidding and remove from Porsha’s home without her knowledge or consent a robe that belongs to him. Boundary violation. We saw Dennis feed dissension between Londie and Porsha when he asked Londie why does Porsha treat her badly. Boundary violation. There have been too many instances of what I consider narcissistic abuse and manipulation in this series, let alone episode, to itemize. Overall, it’s clear Dennis senses the wound this family carries regarding men. The Williams family lost both Porsha’s father and grandfather within years of each other, and this family has been looking for men to fill this void, problematically exalting any man, even a man who is an apparent walking red flag like Dennis. The fans love Dennis. According to social media users he’s carrying the show on his back. He and his mother need a spin-off. Very few are calling out this man’s toxic behavior for what it is. He shows no empathy for hurting Porsha; instead, he and his mother attack her for discussing her pain. He takes no accountability for cheating on Porsha; rather, he blames Dom for telling Porsha Dennis's lounge rehired the employee with whom he cheated. Still, not the viewers, not social media bloggers, not Porsha’s sister Lauren, cousin Londie, nor Aunt Liz hold him responsible. Instead, Porsha is blamed for not taking accountability. It’s not clear for what—leaving toxic Dennis? We’ve seen this gaslighting of Black woman before. The part that is triggering is how it’s justified. Gizelle Bryant of The Real Housewives of Potomac (Bravo) frequently targets other women castmates by bringing on to the platform false rumors about their families. Her first victim was Monique Samuels, then Wendy Osefo. Viewers, bloggers, TV hosts, and former Housewives producers say, “Gizelle understands the assignment,” and Wendy and Monique should have known what they signed up for. On The Real Housewives of New York City (Bravo), Ramona Singer and Luann de Lesseps labeled Ebony K. Williams “angry” because she stated the fact she has most formal education. The viewers and notable talk show host Wendy Williams blamed Ebony for making race an issue on Housewives. Hop over to the OWN Network, and we see the show’s producer of Love & Marriage: Huntsville tell Melody Holt that she was not “enough” to keep her husband from cheating. On Ready to Love, contestant Shiloh details how she requested space from her date Phil, and, instead of granting this space, he literally picked her up and carried her back to the car. Social media users stated Shiloh was overacting and ought to apologize to Phil, who was simply protecting her. These instances lead me to the conclusion that viewers not only get pleasure from gaslighting Black women, but these shows are largely premised upon the narcissistic abuse and gaslighting of Black women. When I watch the episode “Spilling the Tea-quila” of Porsha’s Family Matters, I see a woman recognizing for the first time that her former partner has been subjecting her cousin to the abuse that Porsha has endured from many men but explained away. And the indignation that Porsha displays, not Dennis’s antics, is in my view more than justified. While I recognize reality TV viewers are not representative of the entire Black population, especially as ratings steadily decline, it still troubles me that the viewers active on social media take so much pleasure in seeing Black women abused and gaslighted. Several bloggers hyped up The Real Housewives of Potomac (RHOP) as Atlanta’s heir apparent. But the sixth season of the series premiered to a little over 1 million viewers. Some say people aren’t watching reality TV. This point would be valid if America’s Funniest Home Videos (ABC), Big Brother (CBS), and Celebrity Family Feud (ABC) weren’t attracting over 3 million viewers each week. Maybe the issue is informed women are tuning out of The Real Housewives franchise, as producers don’t understand these viewers, and the assignment, creating antic-laced, televisual environments that are too toxic to watch.
The Real Housewives Franchise (Bravo) launched as a tongue-in-cheek portrayal of women who flout the traditional picture-perfect TV representation of housewives in nuclear families. This Housewives brand of reality TV followed the direction of early 2000, cable-based, TV docu-series like The Osbornes (MTV, 2002), Newlyweds: Nick and Jessica (MTV, 2003), and Being Bobby Brown (Bravo, 2005). Later in 2007, Fox, Style, and E! networks aired The Simple Life, Kimora: Life in the Fab Lane, and Keeping Up with the Kardashians, respectively. These shows ushered in a hybrid genre of reality TV: the unscripted situation comedy (sitcom). Unlike traditional scripted sitcoms, that strove for symmetry, these unscripted shows played up the fabulous incongruity of the cast. Think of wealthy Paris and Nicole working in a barn or Jessica Simpson asking if tuna is chicken. These moments contradicted what viewers expect of glamorous TV figures, and we loved it. The Real Housewives franchise premiered in this same satirical televisual milieu with The Real House of Orange County in 2006. Like these earlier shows, the allure of The Real Housewives of Atlanta (Bravo, 2008) was its incongruity. It was hilarious to follow mostly unknown and unemployed women living the lavish lifestyle of A-list celebrities. And it was funnier to watch Nene Leakes call their cards with classic lines like, “I’ve been knowing Sheree for so long. I have been to her house a million times. There’s no security. Her gates don’t even work.” These quirky moments between real friends made the show. Cut to 2010 and the premiere of VH1’s Basketball Wives, followed a year later by Mob Wives. Producers of these series utilized a storytelling style that the TV industry calls jumping-the-shark. To jump the shark is to focus stories around outrageous incidents for the shock value. With Basketball Wives and Mob Wives, we got doses of fights, bottle-throwing, and table flips every week, and these shows were a hit. Carlos King, who eventually rose to EP (executive producer) of RHOA, seemingly took a page out of VH1s book. In an episode of Kandi Burruss’s Speak On It, Burruss explains that her daughter's father appeared on RHOA because Carlos King had a pattern and practice of creating scandalous moments with tactics like surprising cast members on camera with a person from their past. Carlos King is very proud of this producing style. He has stated in many interviews that Season 9 was the best of RHOA because he pushed the cast to give their all. But season 9 was about rape allegations. It was a traumatic and triggering season for the cast and viewers, and the first season, since season two, to only reach 3 million viewers once. This season ushered in the gradual exodus of informed Black women viewers. Here’s the thing: Jump-the-shark producing tactics work for series like The Real World and Big Brother because these types of reality TV programs are episodic. By episodic, I mean these shows don’t maintain a cast that carries a plotline through a season and across multiple seasons. With shows like The Bachelor, there is a new cast every season. Hence why the jump-the-shark style does not work for serial reality (unscripted) sitcom TV programs like The Real Housewives franchise. We invest in RHOA the same way we invested in the cast of Girlfriends and Living Single. These women become our surrogate friends and family members, and we don’t want to see them embroiled in stressful conflict each week in the way that we would accept from a Big Brother contestant who might be eliminated from that episode. This is where the producers of RHOA got the assignment wrong. And it’s my unpopular opinion that the jump-the-shark producing style brought RHOA, The Oprah Winfrey Show of reality TV shows, down to the level of Basketball Wives and Mob Wives with their Jerry Springer antics. When reality TV was novel, it was easier to attract viewers by advertising fights and flipped tables. But 14 years in, informed women, the very demographic Bravo covets, are tuning out. Bravo can start to understand the assignment by hiring more women, specifically Black women of all backgrounds, to work behind the camera in real decision-making positions. And these women, including the women cast members, have to say no to jump-the-shark tactics. Currently, The Real Housewives franchises are led mostly by men. We need diversity, so I’m not saying fire the men. I’m saying Bravo needs more EPs and executives who can relate to and articulate a woman’s experience. We wouldn’t expect cis-het women to be the sole or lead producers of Pose (FX). Bravo is doing slightly better by focusing more on personal story with RHOP, but it might be too late. Most informed women don’t tune in to these shows to see women read each other for filth. We tune in to see real relationships to which we can relate. Season 13 of RHOA centered around a dungeon, and unfortunately, that is where the series has gone--straight to the pits of hell. And it’s not simply because the beautiful Black women who grace our screens are boring. It’s because the producers and network don’t understand the assignment. Reality TV shows featuring Black women ensemble casts are toxic to watch right now. Normally my posts are more eloquent, but there's no other way to say it. Our favorite shows that formerly revolved around serving flyness with a side of drama are straight-up exploiting the trauma of the cast.
Let's focus on Basketball Wives. Admittingly, this series has been problematic since the episode when Eveyln threw a glass of water on another woman of color (Season 1). We gave Evelyn an inch because she divulged details about enduring various forms of domestic abuse—from financial to emotional. We felt her pain, and we wanted her to win. But now girlfriend's done taken a whole mile. When a cast member feels comfortable uttering a racial slur on a ViacomCBS set, we have moved from conflict to violence. The network's decision to air this footage was irresponsible at best and negligent at worst. Once the footage aired, VH1's ethical responsibility was to address the anti-Asian American xenophobia against CeCe for what it was. Instead, VH1 depoliticized the personal. Depoliticizing the personal is evidenced in comments like "everything isn't about race," "maybe it's not sexism, maybe you just didn't deserve a raise," and "it doesn't offend me when he calls me [insert perjorative]." Some people are unable to understand the larger implications of everyday/personal interactions. They can't see that all forms of oppression are maintained by daily practices. BECAUSE an event is experienced as personal, these people believe it is divorced from the political. Depoliticizing the personal is not the same as a microaggression. It is the thinking or outlook that justifies an oppressive act. Depoliticizing the personal seems to be VH1's stance on matters, and, unfortunately, it is highly effective. This depoliticizing of the personal was VH1's approach to the situation involving Evelyn and Cece, and it's the network's approach to OG accurately describing her experiences of colorism, specifically with Evelyn. We see the personal being depoliticized with Kristen's attempts to undermine OG's claims by pointing out that she and OG have similar skin tones but that she has never experienced colorism. This is how oppression works: through the seeming existence of hierarchies and exceptions. Think of slavery. There were those in the field. Some were in the house, and a few or maybe one Black person was an overseer. However, they were all subjugated as slaves. Kristen is the exception. Because she has features associated with what are believed to be European traits, she is accepted as beautiful. Because she does not feel that her life is personally affected by colorism, she feels no need to assist OG in challenging it. Kristen depoliticized the political, which helps to secure the perpetuation of a larger problematic structure, which is antiblackness. People reading these words might think: "I'm not colorist. I just think OG's ugly." This statement is a classic example of depoliticizing the personal. The idea is these are my personal thoughts, so these thoughts can't be racist (for non-Black people) or colorist (for Black people). However, they are. The question is why do you hold such beliefs? Why is it taken-for-granted that OG is ugly? The answer is she has facial features that are conventionally believed to be African. Africans in racist thought are compared to monkeys, apes, and gorillas. Africans, in racist thought, are black the opposite of white, meaning goodness, purity, beauty. When some people see OG's African face, they see all these underlying beliefs. Scroll through Twitter, and you will find people calling OG "ugly," "mean," and "negative," etc.—all synonyms for black. It's important to think deeply about this. It is through the personal that oppressive acts are enacted. For example. it's in everyday individual encounters with real estate agents and loan officers that millions of Black people have been denied access to loans and revered communities. These personal interactions created an inequitable system that prevented generations of Black people from building wealth. What I want readers of this blog to take away is depoliticizing the personal is a practice that facilitates and protects all forms of oppression. There is no exception to this rule. One way to dismantle these larger systems is to remember the feminist mantra that the personal is the political and to take a stance of support and solidarity. So what about our personal viewing habits? Is this what we want to see on our screens: hurt people hurting other people and then gaslighting them by depoliticizing the personal? I think we deserve better than this. We all tune in to our favorite reality TV shows for a little drama, but it's time for VH1 to take a serious approach to the evident trauma playing out on screen. There's nothing fly about seeing our sisters in pain. |
AuthorNana Korlah is a Black feminist writer from Atlanta, Georgia. Archives
September 2023
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