Originally posted by prettylittleliars

Introduction:

           “We go to dinner and a movie just like you guys.” Emily Field (Shay Mitchell), casually says to her three white, straight friends, as she holds her girlfriend’s hand (“Know Your Frenemies”). This refrain often repeated in Freeform’s Pretty Little Liars (2010-) is gaining popularity amongst American television. The adolescent hit centers around the lives of four teen protagonists: Aria, Spencer, Hanna and Emily living in the fictional Philadelphian suburb, Rosewood. The girls are banded together after they begin receiving threatening texts from a mysterious “A” character, after the presumed death of their best friend Alison DiLaurentus (“Pretty Little Liars”). It is revealed through her attraction to Maya St. Germain, the new girl in town, that Emily is gay and comes out to her friends and family in the first season. As both the only protagonist of color and queer character, Emily is performing what scholar Alfred Martin has termed “double duty” referring to “the ways in which representations of otherness in majority white television shows is placed within one character of color” (Martin, 2016, 2). Although Martin only began writing on this concept this past year, these characters that embody this “compound otherness” are not new. They seem to have recently increased within the that genre scholar Timothy Shary has termed “youth media,” as illustrated in Emily on Pretty Little Liars (Shary, 2014, 3). Overwhelmingly the marginalized identities prominently featured are race and sexuality (Meyer et al., 2013, 3).

Historically television portrayed white, straight, cis men to the exclusion of everyone else (Smith et al., 2016, 16). While this widely continues to hold true, there has been some expansion, especially in post 1990s TV. This decade saw political organizations around both race and sexuality gain traction in their advocacy. As Sarkissian and other scholars have noted, “the 1990s experienced a surge in queer visibility on television that focused on well-adjusted adults as our friends, family and co-workers” (Sarkissian, 2014, 145). However, this representation overwhelmingly focused on queer adult subjects with “scripted American and Canadian series throughout the nineties depict(ing) only four regular and recurring teens who identified as gay” (Peters, 2016, 2). These representations laid the groundwork for the influx of gay teen representation; however, in the mid-2000s, peaking in the 2010- 2011 television season with a record number of “25 regular and recurring non-straight teen characters” (Peters, 2016, 2).

A closely parallel journey occurred for people of color, with the 90s placing a great deal of pressure on the television industry for better representation in the wake of both the Rodney King beating and the OJ Simpson trial sparking national race conversations. We saw the emergence of few short lived black shows featuring black teens like Sister, Sister! (1994-1999) and The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air (1990-1996) (Warner, 2014, 5). However, towards the end of the millennium with many of these shows ending, “tension between the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP), the National Association of Latino Independent Producers (NALIP), and the networks emerged around the Fall of 1999 (TV season)” calling for more racially diverse representation (Warner, 2014, 6). Given these recent histories, it becomes clear that the seemingly increased diversity in these “double duty” characters are more complicated then they seem and they are much more important in terms of the representation.

           While these characters could be an opportunity for interesting intersectional stories which too often go unheard, they become frustrating representations that present false realities. For instance, Emily’s story is a complex one of being a multiracial lesbian which is a very specific lived experience. Instead shows like Pretty Little Liars position these characters similarly to their hegemonic castmates, erasing their difference. Martin’s observation of these characters leads him to conclude that these failed performances are motivated by a political economic pressure that focuses on the capitalization of diversity and multiculturalism (Martin, 2016, 3).

           In this piece, I seek to complicate Martin’s notions by exploring the neoliberal trappings of Pretty Little Liars. While his observations of these token characters’ performance of “double duty” clearly illuminate the respective characters’ failings, he limits his discussion to explicit “marked otherness” disregarding “colorblind” and consequentially homonormative characters (Martin, 2016, 5). However, these falsities are an ever-growing part of contemporary television shows, especially in consideration of the teen genre and therefore call for examination. In this paper, I’ll argue that these token characters’ performances of “double duty” ultimately fail to offer intersectional representation because they overwhelmingly push neoliberal notions of marginalized identities through homonormativity and colorblindness. The perpetuation of these concepts is harmful especially within the context of the teen genre, because they devalue the lived experiences of oppression faced by members of these communities.

           To best understand the neoliberal underpinnings, we have to frame and define the concept. David Harvey in his seminal text, The Brief History of Neoliberalism, defines it as “a theory of political economic practices… [which advocates for] liberating individual entrepreneurial freedoms and skills within an institutional framework characterized by strong private property rights, free markets and free trade” (Harvey, 2005, 2). According to Harvey’s theory of neoliberalism, we can infer strong opposition to any state intervention. This resulting theory is important to recognize in the context of identity politics, because it rests on the notion that everyone is able to equally participate. It also focuses on individualism, saying that beyond property rights any notion not involved in the market also becomes privatized.

Scholar Lisa Duggan explains the impact of neoliberalism on the LGBTQ community, in the development of “new homonormativity”. She defines it as a queer politics which “does not contest dominant heteronormative assumptions and institutions but upholds and sustains them” by privatizing queer identity and life (Duggan, 2002, 179). Not only does this clearly depoliticize and de-radicalize one’s sexuality or gender, it serves the purpose of delegitimizing the oppression faced by this community (Peters, 2016, 3). Additionally, the conformation to the hegemonic dominant is not based on the single identity such as sexuality, but is also racialized, with whiteness being dominant (McRuer, 2011, 3).

           The resounding whiteness of neoliberalism is consistent, even outside the lens of sexuality. Explicitly in terms of racial theory, there has been the development of the idea of post-racial theory and colorblindness. Post-racial thinking dictates that we still see race, but it is not “a meaningful aspect of identity” (Warner, 2014, 7). Within this framework people of color’s history and reality of continued racialized discrimination and violence become void. Warner points out through this thinking we are able to develop people and characters who are obviously people of color but de-racialized so that they can be assimilated to whiteness (Warner, 2012, 8). In this conformity to whiteness dictated by post-racial fantasies and colorblindness, neoliberalism just as with homonormativity, is perpetuated through depoliticizing and minimizing the reality of the racial impact, calling on the privatization and individualization of race (Warner, 2012, 7). These actions, and the overall lack of state intervention associated with heteronormativity and post-racial thinking contribute to neoliberalism by the hegemony accepting marginalized folks of these identities while simultaneously positioning them as lesser.

In what follows, I will expand on the neoliberal concepts of post-racial theory and homonormativity in the teen genre through an exploration of Emily Fields in Freeform’s Pretty Little Liars (2010-). To effectively engage with this, I’ll examine Emily throughout the production, starting with Mitchell’s casting then examining her storylines within the first season. I’ll focus on her coming out, relationships/partners, and of course the erasure of her racial identity throughout out it all. Finally, I’ll conclude my paper with an examination of the harmful impact of the perpetuation of these neoliberal ideals through characters like Emily on queer youth of color.

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This week has been emotionally and physically taxing with so much going on across the country in Mississippi, across the world with South Africa, and even at my own brother school Claremont Mckenna. With all the events going on on campus, classes and just general life my own self care was lost within the mix. So last night I decided to take some time and tune in live for my favorite night on ABC, TGIT or as I like to refer to it a night when Shonda Rhimes rejuvenates me by allowing her bright and talented women of color take the lead (well except for Meredith but I’ll get there). Shonda has often brought up the fact that she is “pissed off” and frustrated by the fact that she is often labeled as the most powerful black, woman showrunner. 

“I find race and gender to be terribly important; they’re terribly important to who I am. But there’s something about the need for everybody else to spend time talking about it … that pisses me off.“

Shonda’s words ring true for me. My identifies are often brought up even in white liberal spaces as conversations pieces or even worse become all encompassing to the point of defining me. I very clearly remember the micro aggression that was my senior year in which my classmates would relentlessly tell me not to worry about getting into college. “You’re black, jewish and gay. You’re a college’s dream.” I got upset and silently pissed like Shonda as people neglected to bring up my work ethic, my dedication to community engagement all of the other things that makes me me. I am ashamed to admit it now but at times I became so frustrated that I found myself thinking like the poet Langston Hughes writes about in his essay The Negro Artist and The Racial Mountain, “I want to be a poet, not a Negro Poet”.  The inherent message within this statement meaning I want to be a white, to not have to endure the constant labeling as the other by white, straight, able-bodied cis-men. But I love my melanin, my queerness and all my other identities because they are a part of me. Not something to be ashamed of or worse to be changed.

Shonda’s work reminds me of this, her characters are beautiful multi dimensional beings, that are incredibly powerful while also being flawed. Their sheer existence is challenging to the rich, white, straight, cis, able bodied patriarchy that is constantly reminding us that we don’t fit their “mold”. But beyond that recently Shonda’s work is pointing with the middle finger to point to the racist, homophobic, misogynistic shit that marginalized identities especially I as people of color face everyday. Scandal called out the practice of Dog Whistle politics and coded language in general a few weeks ago. Then in How to Get Away with Murder (which I should note Shonda is only a producer on and not the showrunner) this season has reminded viewers that in the eyes of the law even racist white voice’s still get to be legally heard and valued. 

But the biggest surprise from Shonda this season came last night when I watched Grey’s Anatomy and witnessed the show finally start to talk about the ways that racism hasn’t just gone away but rather continues to impact us, as people of color, everyday even in seemingly “liberal” white spaces like Seattle. And even more than that Shonda knows she has large white audience and seems to challenge her viewers through Maggie’s challenging of Amelia to “check their white privilege”. The conversation has mirrored many of mine throughout my life talking to white friends, family, co workers, bosses so to see it reiterated on screen was just the comfort and self care that I needed. So thank you Shonda. Thank you for sharing your art with the world.

I saw Dear White People this past weekend and was reminded of how big a role an audience plays in how you experience a film. I’ve been excited to see this movie since it premiered at Sundance last year. And while the film had its faults which I discussed with Elizabeth Affuso in our interview for the October show, the biggest disappointment was the audience.

Sadly many viewers found themselves in a similar situation. Which this BET article sums up quite well (Read more here). But I thought I would add to the dialogue by sharing my own experience.

First, I had to drive 10 miles from my liberal arts college to even see the film. I assumed since the film’s content included a college narrative that it would be playing at the Laemmle, our local independent theatre. While it could be interpreted that the this was a purposeful choice because the film preaches a liberal message that one might assume Claremont college students share. However as anyone knows from the anonymous Yik Yak responses to the Black Lives Matter Protest, the struggles of being a black face in a white place is not something that all Claremont students understand.  

But anyway, when we got to the theatre it was about half full and most of the viewers we’re people of color ranging from late teens to early forties. Which is an issue within itself that should be discussed. However the advantage of that was as the film began there seemed to be cohesion within the audience embodied in our vocal responses of the entire theatre during the pointed confrontations of “colorblindness” and micro-aggressions. It felt like a safe place to heal and to process some of our shared experiences as people of color. So when the man sitting behind me with his significant other first grunted when Tyler James Williams’ character Lionel is kissed by his white editor, who is clearly exploiting him, I thought his response was one of sympathy for Lionel. I realized later when the two characters share a slightly more intimate kiss, that the he was just outraged at the kissing itself, which he expressed by shouting “Fuck, you couldn’t pay me enough. Stop it." 

My first thought was, "Really?”.  Here is this progressive film confronting contemporary racial and identity issues, and this guy is upset by a very tame gay kiss. Sadly his comment was a complete shock but a disappointing reminder of the persistence of homophobia. I wanted to confront him, but as I looked back at this towering figure. I was hit with fear and paused. That sense of connectedness that I felt throughout the movie was gone. I was  Before I could come to a decision however, a friend beside me responded by forcefully saying, “Can you stop your homophobic comments? I can’t hear the movie.” To which the man simply surprisingly just said “Sorry I couldn’t help myself." 

The intersectionality element of having Lionel be not only a black face in white space but also gay speaks volumes to having a more dimensional character, and should stand as an amazing representational step. I just wish the film had perhaps posited his experience in a way that really pushed back on a homophobic viewer to the same extent it did for racist and prejudice viewers.

Last week, HBO announced that they are going to start offering a streaming service for some unspecified cost in 2015. The premium network’s move is particularly interesting but not all together that surprising. HBO is producing some of the most widely talked about shows, such as Game of Thrones and Girls.And it is clear that the large majority of the audiences watching these programs are the highly sough after young adult demographics (18-36) or as some like to refer to us: millennials. We’re sought after due to our so called “disposable” income and our lacking of brand loyalty. We are the ideal consumers, but one of the biggest fears for the television industry is that the older members of our demographic are attempting to cut the cord with large cable subscriptions and supplement with online streaming subscriptions such as Hulu Plus and Netflix. The concern is compounded, when you look at younger millennials. I can’t see myself cutting the cord because I am not going to buy it. Our parents bought cable when were young so we grew up with some awareness of the box, but now as we begin living on our own we have found ways (sometimes illegal) to not have to buy these premium cable packages to fulfill our ingrained desires for premium programs. 

HBO seems to be recognizing this and has figured out that buy cutting out the third party cable suppliers, they can get more of my generation to pay for their service. We aren’t all attached to torrenting and illegal streaming Game of Thrones, we’re willing to pay if it isn’t an insanely high price and doesn’t require an a physical TV, since our preferred platforms are our laptops and phones. I don’t think that HBO will loose anything by finally responding to the changing realm of how television is consumed. But I think that it might cost consumers through a hike in Internet prices. Cable and internet are commonly bundled by companies like Comcast and Time Warner Cable who will have to attempt to regain the lost of profits from the moves to subscriptions. 

In almost response to HBO’s announcement, CBS announced the very next day they are rolling out a subscription service that gives access to past popular shows, and along with current shows’ past season and current episodes. All for only $5.99/ month. I can’t see HBO offering that low of a price but it was a smart move by CBS, to keep its price only slightly higher then a Pumpkin Spice latte.