In Regards to the Black Coming of Age Experience on Screen... or Lack Thereof

Cover art: Maya Risch

Growing up, I always struggled to find comfort in watching television shows and movies about people my age because I felt like I could never fully relate to the main characters. They almost never looked like me. I’m thankful to live in one of the most progressive times for minorities, but it’s hard to look at the entertainment industry in that light because as of right now there are not many shows or movies with black leads, and if there are shows with black girl leads, they are usually light skinned or mixed. Neither of which I can relate to. Most productions leave the dark skinned people to a supportive best friend, comic relief, sassy sidekick role, or if we’re lucky (cue eye roll) all of the above! It’s sort of infuriating and tiring to watch. 

Over the past few years, watching film and television has become a hobby of mine. I enjoy analyzing and critiquing the characters, the storyline, and the show as a whole. When I find a movie I absolutely adore and in which I am able to relate to the main character, there’s always a thought in the back of my mind saying, “I wish they made a black character like this”. You’re probably wondering: “Why don’t you just appreciate that you’re able to relate to the character at all without bringing race into it?” Well, that’s the problem. I’ve always had to appreciate the character without bringing race into it. Not to mention, black people, especially black girls, experience a different coming-of-age experience than white people. It feels isolating to love something and not be able to relate to it fully. It’s like being the odd one out in a friend group. It’s like you’re invited to all of the functions, but you’re not allowed to be in on the inside jokes. 

To grow into young adulthood without having shows and movies filled with people that look like me at my disposal that narrate what it feels like to be a teenager during this time in my life is frustrating. I have comfort characters, but the majority of them don’t look like me or are able to showcase the struggles that specifically Black people or Black girls have to go through. In middle school, I latched onto characters like Riley Matthews in Girl Meets World because we had similar experiences, and I related to her in a lot of ways. But there are tons of things about being a Black girl in middle school that Riley would never have been able to relate to. I guess in the long run, that made me a stronger individual and caused me to lean more into reality and the people in my life when dealing with things I didn’t quite understand, but it also would have been comforting to watch someone in a show or movie undergo the same things I was having to. Although most times not realistic, shows offer some sort of resolved conflict at the end, and it would be nice to see what resolutions writers would have come up with for the endeavors I had back then.

Nowadays, there are more Black led shows and movies aimed at older women and millennials. For example, Insecure, fronted by Issa Rae, is a show that comes to mind when discussing relatable shows for Black women. Although I absolutely love the show, I find it hard to relate to because I’m not the target audience, and I understand that. Insecure is made for black women in their mid/late twenties to early thirties. As much as I love watching the adventures of Issa and Molly, I recognize that I won’t be able to quite understand and relate to their trials and tribulations until later on in life. It seems like the entertainment industry deems the teenage and young adult period in Black girls’ lives as unimportant when, right now, I feel like I’m the most important person in the world. 

I think it’s interesting how there are a plethora of shows and movies created between the late 80s and 90s featuring all the important aspects of coming of age as a Black person, especially for Black girls. But now, arguably a more progressive time for Black people, there are almost no shows featuring these coming of age views. I long for the day that the entertainment and media industry look at teenage and young adult Black girls as their target audience again. 

I grew up in front of the television with my younger sister soaking up the stories of Tia and Tamera in Sister, Sister, watching Brandy Norwood’s adventures in Moesha, and feeling like I was a part of the Banks family in The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air. These were shows that celebrated their Blackness, without ever having to announce it. I was born in 2002, so I grew up on the tail end of watching That’s So Raven as it aired on Disney Channel, but I still realize the importance of having someone look like you on a network that at the time was so shockingly white. I was able to witness the same greatness that Raven Symone had on Disney Channel for Black girls—that China Anne McClain had as she played the lead in the show A.N.T Farm. All of the shows I listed above tackled the tough topics of growing up as a Black girl and a Black person in America, but they also gave the leads the chance to just be normal teenagers with experiences universal to any teenager. It felt empowering to watch people on screen that look like you and be able to relate to the things happening in their lives wholeheartedly. It felt like I was able to be known and understood. Personally, this is what I feel that the entertainment industry is lacking today in terms of sharing Black stories. 

There is a genre that’s popular amongst Hollywood writers right now that many refer to as “trauma porn”. This genre usually highlights the struggle that it is to be black in America today or in the past. The stories usually start with some type of horrid discrimination or nausea-inducing unlawful killing and you follow the protagonists’ life with these events shaping who they are. The stories end with some sort of heartwarming optimism for the future and helps the audience realize how far we’ve come but also how far we have to go. I’m not diminishing the importance of these stories because I feel that they offer a glimpse into the hardships that Black people face overall for those who don’t quite understand what we go through. However, as a Black person, I have to live with these truths everyday. I don’t need to be reminded of them on screen all the time. Television and film is supposed to offer a creative outlet to reflect on the realities of the lives we live everyday, but television and film is also supposed to offer an escape for the realities of the lives we live. I’m afraid that the Black community is often not awarded this duality.

I think about my favorite coming-of-age films: The Edge of Seventeen, Dazed and Confused, Empire Records, etc. and wonder what it would be like to have those stories, but with a Black main character involved. I want a movie about a Black teenager falling in love, doing something stupid with their friends, or dealing with the hell that is high school. Of course there are stories like this, but there’re undeniably few and far between. Especially made in the 2010s. Oftentimes it feels like the industry or society in general doesn’t look at Black people as multi-faceted individuals. It feels like they look at us as one-dimensional—like we can only be the sassy sidekick, the comic relief, or the one that has to teach a lesson. We can be all of those, but we can be more too. We are more.

If other races are allowed to play an array of roles and experience different things, black people should be able to as well. We are more than our sad and tragic experiences. We are more than just the quick-witted best friend or the oracle who always has it figured out. Black people in Gen Z deserve to see themselves and their experiences on screen just as much as any other minority group. I guess I’m just trying to reiterate the fact that all parts of the Black experience are important. It just seems that Hollywood and society doesn’t quite understand that yet. 

That being said, there are starting to be more strides in the entertainment industry that are opening the doors to more Black stories being told. Selah and the Spades is an Amazon original that focuses on the story of Selah Summers who is the HBIC (Hot Bitch In Charge) at her high school and is trying to figure out who to pass off her crown to once she leaves. Although controversial in the Black community (specifically Black twitter), another show, Grown-ish, follows Zoey Johnson navigating her college career with her eight best friends. Although questionable and unrealistic at times, Grown-ish is one of my favorite shows to watch with my mom and sister because we enjoy criticizing Zoey and her horrible choices. It’s fun to have the opportunity to even do that. Black Lightning is a television show that airs on The CW that gives us a glimpse into the superhero world, and it gets rave reviews. Recently, the HBO Max Gossip Girl reboot announced multiple black leads in the show. I’m so excited to watch the upper-east side antics with Black people at the forefront. You can read some about the actors and actresses here. 

During this quarantine, I’m allowing myself to go back and watch the best Black coming-of-age stories that I can find. I plan on watching tons of shows and movies that showcase the best and worst parts of the Black young adulthood. Below, I’ll make a list of my favorite characters in shows and movies that I’ve watched so far. I’ll also create a list of TV shows and movies that showcase the Black experience. I’ll try to limit the “trauma porn” stories though, because I’m guessing we all know the majority of those. Some of these are shows that I’ve not been able to watch yet and some of these are personal favorites. I’m excited to watch these and see myself on screen. I hope you take the time to watch and realize how important they are too. 

I wish that there were more of our narratives on screen. I wish that black teenagers and young adults today were given their own Lady Bird, The O.C., Girl Meets World, or Dazed & Confused. I wish that the industry felt all parts of the Black coming-of-age experience, not just the gritty parts, were worth telling (spoiler alert: they are). I do believe that a resurgence of Black stories is coming though. Gen Z has tons of beautiful and bright Black creators, and I’m excited to see what they have to offer the world. Our stories deserve to be told. All of them. I know this to be true, and I hope by the end of reading this you accept it as a truth as well. I just can’t wait until the day that everyone else realizes that our experiences are important and deserve to be told too.