‘dear white people’ improved but still struggles with its handling of dark-skinned female characters

By Taylor Jordan Holmes, AFROPUNK Contributor

‘Dear White People’ is back with its sophomore season, boldly tackling all of the hot topics from your Twitter feed, including the alt-right, racial PTSD, dating while gay and black, and more.

Though Season 2 does a great job delving into topical political issues, it has inherited from its preceding iterations (both Season 1 and the original indie flick) a fascination with its light-skinned, biracial lead character, Sam, at the expense of its dark-skinned female characters, Joelle and Coco.

In Season 1 we meet Coco and Joelle, one a former BFF of Sam’s and the other a current. Incidentally, Sam has had a past thing with Troy, the handsome golden boy Coco can’t get to take her seriously, and Joelle has it bad for Reggie, who’s practically obsessed with Sam. We immediately are to understand that Sam is highly sought after, while Joelle and Coco are tragically overlooked. Who hasn’t seen this trope before?

Season 2 takes some steps toward bridging the gap. Joelle is featured in Episode 5, wherein her status as the “Kelly” to Sam’s Beyoncé is finally addressed straight on, and we get to see her get a little lovin. We also get some striking moments with Coco, whose storyline touches on a critical issue regarding women’s bodily autonomy.

However, despite these minor improvements, we don’t really get to see either Joelle or Coco evolve much as characters. Rather, we merely have confirmed for us what we already know about them: they’re smart, capable, attractive, and taken for granted.

Sam’s character, on the other hand, is profoundly deepened by her storyline. Some of the season’s strongest scenes were those between Sam and Gabe, Sam and Rikki Carter (played by DWP alum Tessa Thompson), and Sam and her mother. Some may say that this makes sense, given that she is the show’s central character. But the question is why is she so central? And why are her darker-skinned counterparts used to elevate her story?

‘Dear White People’ is a show about racism, yes. But even more it is a show about black identity. The question is, why do we prefer to work through racial trauma and identity politics via a conventionally attractive, light-skinned, biracial woman?

Certainly, the struggle of such a person is valid and should be a part of the conversation, but we fall short when we neglect to pull back the layers of our dark-skinned sisters’ experiences as well. What is the point, after all, in creating a show that breaks down all the murky identity politics in the black community if it’s just going to reproduce, and fail to challenge, the same old tropes black women struggle against in real life?

Dear ‘Dear White People’: you can do better.