By DJ Ferguson
There are many articles out there about how the representation of marginalized groups across media has the potential for psychological harm. They usually point to either a dearth of media representation in major colonial pop cultural storytelling genres or to a relative abundance of stereotyped, propagandistic and incomplete representation.
The exposure of this rhetoric generally frames us as outsiders pathetically clamoring at the doors of the palace of opulent riches while we’re locked out, poor and vulnerable to the elements. One alternative would be to focus on strengthening the reach of our own media institutions so that we might not need their resources, approval, green lights, or casting graces. This is a commendable strategy that I would definitely encourage. However, to address those who are still in one way or another pining for a “seat at the table,” I want to offer a potential paradigm shift in how we frame the situation.
When we consider the dangers of the underrepresentation of marginalized people, we can’t ignore the potential danger in the overrepresentation of people in power. Not only are marginalized groups misrepresented when we are left out or tokenized, but groups in power are simultaneously misrepresented when they’re not allowed to a more supportive, less centralized narrative role.
The incomplete perspective that the overrepresentation of white people contributes to not only predisposes Black people and other PoC to a warped outlook of white people, but also generates and reproduces a warped outlook within white people themselves. We all exist in a larger ecosystem of relationships with other kinds of people, and we stunt everyone’s development when this isn’t factored into the stories we decide to put on screens.
Of course, we can’t pretend as though the pain and consequences are evenly distributed. When members of groups in power are developmentally stunted, the rest of us can rest assured they’ll be stunted in ways to maintain their power while we are stunted in ways that preserve our own marginalization and relative powerlessness.
Before I had a complex understanding of colonialism, Imperialism, the unethicality of the U.S. project, Orientalism, and the actual holiday, I was elated about Will Smith’s leading role as Steven Hiller in the film Independence Day. In fact, that was my first major exposure to the entire alien invasion genre, a genre that essentially boils down to whiteness asking itself: “What if what we did to everyone else was done to us?” Independence Day takes the basic formula of War of the Worlds: an invasion of White Civilization by the technologically “superior” extraterrestrial imperialists, but here they’re defeated by a conglomerated global effort spearheaded by (white) United States leadership.
As someone deeply attuned to Black underrepresentation but not to white overrepresentation, Will Smith’s presence in the film really affected me and my developing outlook growing up. Him being one of the primary protagonists, I had someone of an ethnic group that emerged as a direct result of white European American colonialism to look up to. As a member of the U.S. military, Smith was allowed a pivotal role in helping stop an invasion that would leave the entire planet a withered husk unable to sustain life.
Meanwhile, white Americans got their own share of self-serving savioristic fantasy fulfillment from the movie, despite the fact that they’re one of the greatest contributing factors to our planet’s decreased capacity to sustain life through their unsustainable resource management resulting from colonialism.
While Smith was saving the world from an alien invasion, so too was the U.S. government, which is already overrepresented as the “savior from alien invasion” in films. This representation becomes propaganda, a message that only our oppressors, our abusers, can save us from greater, fantastical hypothetical threats.
Such attitudes serve to justify the whole colonial project that requires inflated imperial military power to maintain. White America as a whole got to be the overarching hero of the story at the same time that Steven Hiller allowed me to imagine being uniquely qualified to destroy such a life-destroying colonial project, negating the impact of that role for Black and other people who are victims of U.S. colonialism in the real world.
The question of representation shouldn’t just be seen merely as a matter of inclusion/exclusion, or as something we want merely for the temporary high or illusory progress of seeing us on sites of pop media consumption. We have to understand that by only asking for more representation what we’re doing is at best harm reduction. We don’t just need better representation, we have to undermine the dangers inherent in what’s already being represented. Because what we’re experiencing isn’t just psychological damage from underrepresentation of ourselves, but from the harm from overrepresentation of our oppressors.
“DJ Ferguson” is a Black American (Akata), freelance writer who studied Philosophy at Ball State University. Would love to produce content like this for a living , so please help fund RaceBaitr!
