Race and Racism in Popular Culture

There is a fascinating "rant" from writer/filmmaker John Ridley (author of the criminally under-the-radar satire "Undercover Brother") in the latest issue of Filter magazine. You have to flip to the back page for it, but he makes some amazing points in just a page. Commenting on a recent cross-over storyline in the DC (comics, for those not hip enough to know) Universe called "Infinite Crises," he makes an important point about how superheroes reflect a liberal worldview in which a batch of "civilized" and "moral" superheroes (read: subtext for Americans) go out and save the world, civilizing it and bringing it peace with their political (and economic) missions. More important to his commentary, however, are his points on race. He laments the fact that, out of a comic universe of "millions" of superheroes, a total of three are black, and they all are "closet" blacks (either masked or, in the absurd case of one, a guy who used to be white but now is black).

As a comic book connosseur since his early years, Mr. Trend fully understands and appreciates Mr. Ridley's efforts and commentary. I'm not terribly familiar with the DC Universe - I was always a Marvel guy myself, and from my favorite comics (particularly X-Men), minorities were and are better represented than they seem to be in the DC Universe (having read Batman in my earlier years, too, you see virtually no "black" people, as Mr. Ridley insists, deriding the "African-American" epithet). Yet even Marvel isn't exclusive. Many of the black superheroes are either one part of a broader team (such as Falcon on the Avengers or Bishop with the X-Men) or in those very masks that Mr. Ridley condemns (such as Moon Knight, who wears all white, head to toe). Additionally, while we often see white people and the few minority superheroes saving minorities (again implying that liberal worldview that will "save" all cultures), and we see white people saving white people, rare are the times we see minorities, be they African American, Hispanic, Asian, or other, saving white people in the comics universe.

Some might say, "so what? They're just comic books" (or graphic novels, for the snobs), but to brush aside such a component of popular culture is to refuse the very nature of our own culture, a culture that those who do treat comics as "childish" are a part of. To ignore the implications are to perpetuate such stereotypes. You only need to look at how superheroes of the 40s combated Nazis (where do you think Superman and Captain America began?), or communists in the 60s (Iron Man very blatantly, as well as Captain America, and numerous, more subtle battles among heroes such as Spiderman and Daredevil, who combatted egomaniacal and authoritarian villains such as Dr. Doom and Kingpin, men who had designs that subtly reflected how the US viewed people like Stalin, Tito, and others). Even now, there is a series going on in Marvel in which, due to increased terrorism in the US, superheroes are being forced to unmask and become public, "coming out" with their identities, a move that leads to hesitancy among some heroes (including Captain America) and has implications both in terms of an increasing monitoring of the American public in the Bush administration and less-than-subtle connotations on the burden of "coming out" in terms of sexuality. Thus, the ways in which race is represented (or under-represented) in comics speaks very real on the subtlties of racism and representation in the USA (providing the good counterexample to the stupid portrayal of American racism that Erik recently ranted about in "Crash" [not the Cronenberg one]).

Nor does one need to look simply at comic books. Professional wrestling (it was bound to appear on this blog sooner or later) is another important insight. Again, focusing on African Americans, but with other minorities as well, we see appalling portrayals. Currently, there are only a handful of black wrestlers in the WWE, the largest and most popular wrestling association in the US. Of this handful, only one, Bobby Lashley, is currently a "face," or a good guy. The other two, Mark Henry and Booker T [not real subtle here, either - subltly never was wrestling's strong suit] are currently "heels," or bad guys. Not only this, but Lashley is not out there wailing on a bunch of white guys (save for one man, Finlay, who's Irish, but we should all be familiar with where the Irish fell in the American-race-hierarchy until recently), but on Booker T. Thus, out of three blacks on WWE Smackdown, two of them are fighting each other, and the third is a "bad guy" as well. If you're looking for similar treatment on WWE Raw or ECW, good luck - the number of headlining African Americans there is nil. Hispanics get a bit better treatment. Rey Mysterio, also of Smackdown, was, until Sunday night, the world champion, and is one of WWE's most popular and loved heroes, bringing the lucha libre style to WWE. However, once again, he lost his title to whom? Booker T. We again witness the clash of minorities, while a bunch of Anglo-descendant executives in the office pull in the big bucks and create these storylines that, instead of speaking to opportunity among all, let the white people beat each other up separately than the minorities.

Certainly, this may seem rather absurd to many, but again, to brush aside the popular culture forms of expression, no matter how "crass" they may appear, is to perpetuate such notions of racism in their most subtle forms in the US. Bringing it back to Mr. Ridley's piece in Filter, you need to read the article yourselves - go out to a store and find it, but it's an important and thought-provoking piece that provides more insights into race in American society and popular culture.