Lakeith Stanfield Calls Out "Anti-Black" Media

In this op-ed Tayo Bero explains why we should interrogate who gets a voice in Black news platforms.

Earlier this month, actor Lakieth Stanfield took on Black media outlets that, according to him, push anti-Black agendas and uphold white supremacist ideas. In a deleted Instagram post, the Sorry to Bother You star described the offending platforms as “feeding grounds for negative reinforcement toward Balck 'nonconformists.'”

In the last several years, gossip sites like TheShadeRoom, BallerAlert, Bossip, and MediaTakeout along with shows like the Breakfast Club, Complex’s Everyday Struggle, and more recently Revolt TV’s State of the Culture have positioned themselves as de facto gatekeepers for Black popular culture. From red-carpet interviews with celebrities to holding presidential candidates to account, these platforms have no doubt attained behemoth status within the Black community. But reclaiming our own narratives in the pop culture space has proven to come with its own unique set of complications, and these outlets have often failed to manage that power well.

The first problem is that many of these platforms feed into the most basic stereotypes about Black people — violent, criminal, ‘ghetto’, ill-prepared to raise children, and unwise with our finances. And as these tropes find a virtual home on these sites, there’s a temptation to suggest that they are simply depicting ‘reality.’ For me though, that suggestion of balance falls flat when you see that as many have pointed out, any good news is quickly eclipsed by mostly negative and disparaging content.

From footage of club fights, to divulging some of the more intimate moments of their subjects’ lives, these platforms often depict Black people at their most vulnerable, obnoxious, and disagreeable, and shine a light on the worst versions of those transgressions. Earlier this year, Cardi B went off on The Shaderoom after they ran a story about gun charges being brought against her husband Offset. Admitting that bad stories are an inevitability, the Bronx native also pointed out that there is a proliferation of far more negative, demeaning stories over positive, feel-good ones.

A second and often more insidious side to this issue is that many of these predominantly Black gossip blogs, interview shows, and social media accounts also reinforce harmful stereotypes about other marginalized communities. In 2017, writer, TV host and trans rights activist, Janet Mock wrote an open letter to The Breakfast Club following an appearance on the show that Mock said at the time she never planned on watching again.

She described being asked invasive questions about her anatomy, and also pointed to a second interview in which Mock’s photo was used as a prop, while the group chatted with comedian Lil Duval about what would happen if he hypothetically dated a trans woman without knowing it. The group all laughed when Duval misgendered Mock on purpose, with the comic adding boldly that if he were ever in that position, it would end in a hate crime.

TBC put a Black trans woman on their platform ostensibly to speak about her experience, only to turn around and not only degrade her but also allow a guest to threaten deadly violence against members of her community. And if you thought that would have been a teachable moment for the show’s hosts — DJ Envy, Angela Yee, and Charlamagne tha god — then get ready to be disappointed. The group came under fire again recently, when they did nothing to challenge drag queen Flame Monroe, who suggested during Nov. 16 inteview that LGBTQ people like her need to erase themselves and stop “forcing feeding” their lifestyle on the rest of society.

Conversations like this — though not exclusively about Black people — feed into long-held stereotypes within and about the Black community and its relationship to queer people, putting members of that community who are also Black, at even greater risk.

In some cases, the figures who helm these platforms appear not to have the range or nuance necessary to navigate the complex conversations they are attempting to have, and are dismissive when those issues are called to their attention. Propped up as avatars for Blackness and Black culture, these hosts often bring their own problematic personal beliefs to the platforms they lead, ignoring their duty to treat these issues responsibly and with care. Last fall, rapper Remy Ma made some detestable comments about survivors of rape who sue their abusers, saying that it’s all about money for those victims and comparing the act to sex work.

There’s an assumption that any conversation about holding Black media accountable to their depictions of Blackness is about respectability politics.

And although this issue is inextricably linked to our own cultural visibility and a growing awareness of how we are perceived by others, that really isn’t the crux of the matter: I don’t think this is a question of asking Black media to be less “honest” or to bow to the pressures of a white-washed world. I think this is about examining the types of narratives that get fed on those platforms and interrogating who we give voice to within those spaces.

So, does Black media need to report differently? Absolutely. But in a way that keeps us accountable to our most thoughtful and informed selves, and not to whiteness. People like Charlamagne tha god, Remy Ma, and others also have a duty not just to show up and sit in the chair, but to apply nuance and thoughtfulness to how we talk about ourselves.

That's not a standard that's different, it's one that should just be there.

Originally Appeared on Teen Vogue