Award-winning actress Viola Davis expresses concern about this messaging in mainstream media and culture after becoming the first African American to win an Emmy for best actress in a drama. Her acceptance speech places her award within the larger context of diversity in Hollywood:
In my mind, I see a line. And over that line, I see green fields and lovely flowers and beautiful white women with their arms stretched out to me, over that line. But I can’t seem to get there no how. I can’t seem to get over that line.
That was Harriet Tubman in the 1800s. And let me tell you something: The only thing that separates women of color from anyone else is opportunity.
You cannot win an Emmy for roles that are simply not there. So here’s to all the writers, the awesome people that are Ben Sherwood, Paul Lee, Peter Nowalk, Shonda Rhimes, people who have redefined what it means to be beautiful, to be sexy, to be a leading woman, to be Black.
And to the Taraji P. Hensons, the Kerry Washingtons, the Halle Berrys, the Nicole Beharies, the Meagan Goods, to Gabrielle Union: Thank you for taking us over that line.101
The Geena Davis Institute on Gender in Media’s tagline, “If you can see it, you can be it,” aptly encapsulates the struggle for representation and appreciation of Black women in the media. The nonprofit organization recently conducted a study titled ‘Representations of Black Women in Hollywood,’ which examines the representation of Black women and girls in entertainment media. Much of the existing research on race and gender in entertainment media analyzes representations of women and Black people as two distinct groups, but far less is known about the intersectional depictions of Black girls and women in Hollywood. It is important to note that the number of Black female characters in film and on TV is too small to examine Black women and girls separately, so the analysis was combined.
In analyzing the study reports, it’s clear to see that, no matter the arguments to the contrary, representation of Black women, Black beauty, and authentic portrayals of Blackness, including natural hair, are severely lacking throughout the media. There is a void in telling our stories in any meaningful way. Physical representation should be a natural extension of any attention or value placed on these stories. It is noticeably absent, and this begins to permeate our self-concept. Ultimately, our self-esteem and self-confidence suffer. This gradual erosion, which begins when we are very young, is barely noticeable. The lack of dolls that resemble us, societal pressure to straighten our natural hair in order to fit in, and the pervasive whitewashed perception of beauty all subtly reinforce it. We are made aware at a very young age that we are not that.
According to the study, Black girls and women make up 6.5 percent of the US population, but only 3.7 percent of leads and co-leads in the hundred top-grossing films of the last decade. Sadly, this figure represents an improvement from previous years, when it was even lower. Only one in five (19.0 percent) of Black leading ladies from the past decade have a dark skin tone. Furthermore, most Black leading ladies (57.1 percent) from popular films in the past decade are depicted with hairstyles that conform to European standards of beauty as opposed to natural Black hairstyles.
When it comes to sexualization, Black women (13.5 percent) and other women of color (14.8 percent) are depicted as partially or fully nude more often than their white counterparts (9.0 percent). Moreover, other women of color (56.9 percent) and white women (51.2 percent) are significantly more likely to be depicted as attractive than Black women (41.4 percent) in family films. Finally, Black female characters are more likely to be depicted as violent than white female characters (29.3 percent compared to 24.6 percent) and twice as likely to be portrayed as violent as other female characters of color (14.8 percent).
A similar pattern regarding the representation of Black women on family television is revealed in the study. Black female characters and other female characters of color are twice as likely as white female characters to be shown with a degree of nudity (5.2 percent and 4.9 percent, compared with 2.5 percent). Compared to white female characters, Black female characters and other female characters of color are twice as likely to be shown in revealing clothing (10.7 percent and 8.7 percent, compared with 4.5 percent). In addition, Black female characters are more likely than white female characters and other female characters of color to be verbally objectified by other characters in family TV (1.4 percent compared with 0.5 percent and 0.6 percent, respectively).
The study also found that White female characters are more likely to have an occupation (89.6 percent) than Black female characters (70.5 percent) or other female characters of color (58.8 percent). Additionally, Black female characters are twice as likely as white female characters and other female characters of color to be depicted in a service industry job (56.3 percent, compared to 26.4 percent and 20.6 percent, respectively). Finally, Black women (5.6 percent) are less likely than white women (8.7 percent) and other women of color (11.0 percent) to be shown in a romantic relationship, but more likely to be shown as having at least one sexual partner. Black women are more than twice as likely to have at least one sexual partner in family films as in family TV (13.3 percent compared with 5.1 percent).102
A 2022 report, conducted by the NAACP Hollywood Bureau, Dr. Darnell Hunt, Dean of Social Sciences at UCLA, and Motivational Educational Entertainment (MEE) Production, emphasizes that the lack of Black executives on media teams can be harmful to audiences. The report also points out that there weren’t any Black chief executive officers (CEOs) or members of the senior management team at the major studios in 2020, and only 3.9 percent of major studio unit heads were Black.
Continued and positive representation—both behind the scenes and on screen—can have an effect on the Black community, particularly its youth. Representation in the media is important for several reasons, ranging from positive changes in physical health to a decline in racial profiling.
Research from the Urban Institute’s 2017 Trusted Source explains how the media can influence health behaviors. If that’s true, then the lack of representation—both overall and positive—can impact the overall health of Black people. Certain demographics—such as white, heterosexual, cisgender, male, and Christian—are considered the dominant culture. So, people who fall outside those groups can often be left behind when it comes to representation.
The NAACP study states, “The most damaging consequence of the industry’s faulty approximation of genuine Black experiences is the absorption and adoption of those characterizations as misshapen forms of self-identity, worthy of emulation.”
Discussing the lack of accuracy in media portrayals, Deidre White, a licensed marriage and family therapist in Georgia, states, “The negative effects on Black individuals are direct, stemming from the consumption of harmful messages that shape attitudes and behaviors. The impact of these harmful messages could be lessened with increased representation both on screen and behind the scenes.”
Alton Bozeman, a psychologist with the Menninger Clinic, points out that stereotypical representations, which are ingrained and widespread, tend to overlook the importance of authentic and diverse representation. Black characters in movies and TV often end up as side characters or vehicles to further white character arcs. “It’s not enough for characters, news anchors, or nonfictional subjects to be present and visible,” he says. “It’s also important that these portrayals are relatable.” Bozeman adds, “What makes them relatable is the authenticity of character to one’s culture in the case of fictional characters. In the case of news personalities and nonfictional personalities, it’s the positivity of the portrayals that matters most.”
Keischa Pruden, LCMHC and founder of Pruden Counseling Concepts, discusses how Black people have endured stereotypes for hundreds of years, including their portrayal via harmful stereotypes such as being violent, lazy, or negligent parents. Pruden says, “…young people are the most influenced by what they see, read, and listen to [and] find examples of how to walk, talk, music to listen to, ideas to live by… It would seem imperative that our young Black people be afforded the opportunity to see representations of themselves in a positive, affirming light.”
Angela Robinson, LPC, a clinical director of NorthNode Counseling, says, “We’re constantly told negative things within our family systems, society, and throughout history that can oftentimes keep us caged in, in regards to thinking.”
A 2003 article discussed this negative and stereotypical media representation of Black people and spoke about the prevalence of the portrayals of Black men in TV and movies as dangerous criminals and the potential connection to societal perception mirroring these stereotypes.
The NAACP report confirmed these observations. The report specifically states that media content, whether accurate or not, shapes opinions about Black people, which ultimately influences perceptions, behaviors, and even laws and policies. These, in turn, have significant psychological and emotional impacts on social circumstances. Pruden spoke about the messages that can be conveyed to young Black kids when they don’t see themselves represented, whether or not the message is overt. “ ‘You’re not important to share with the world.’ ‘You’re not skilled enough to be in front or behind the camera.’ ‘Your story doesn’t have relevance.’ Imagine being a young child and receiving those types of messages,” Pruden says. “Whether implied or stated outright, negative messages keep children from chasing dreams, seeing their potential, and feeling good about themselves.”103
So this is why we say beauty is more than skin deep. It’s probably why, when the podcast host asked, I couldn’t recall a time when I felt truly beautiful. Even the word “beauty” doesn’t fully connect with me in describing how I feel my image is perceived in the world and my perception of myself. There is a part of me that has always felt otherworldly. In some ways, that has been a way to boost my self-esteem—by proclaiming that Black girls are, indeed, magical. But for many of us, in the years since George Floyd’s murder, the racial reckoning that wasn’t quite giving, and the following years of broken promises, we don’t have the sustained energy required for “magic.” We simply wish to exist, asking, “Why can’t we just live?” We desire acceptance as regular individuals, not as extraordinary or “magical.” We desire to feel whole and not marginalized simply for being who we are. Yet, we find that our physical characteristics or ethnicity often become a symbolic statement that overshadows our individual identities.
In addition, the pervasive hypersexualization of Black women in the media significantly influences the philosophies imparted to us by our parents, grandparents, and other community members during our childhood. Black girls are told to focus on books and not their beauty. We are expected to concentrate on building the skills to pay the bills—beauty is not considered one of them! This frames our behavior and how we navigate the world around us. We shrink from attention, brush off compliments, mute our bold lipstick, or try to tame our glorious crowns of 4C coils.
Consequently, considering ourselves beautiful, pampering ourselves, and loving the skin we are in seems frivolous. Many of us abandon those practices once we become grown women and struggle to find the time, space, and energy to celebrate our own beauty. Even when we do, there is still a nagging sense that it doesn’t measure up to society’s standard, although intellectually we know that is not the truth. Sometimes we feel that we should adapt to those same standards, although we’re not exactly sure why.
Our eyes tell us something is amiss based on the world around us, and our emotions respond in kind. For us, the effect it has on our psyches is devastating, although we may not be aware of it. We often feel as though our identity is invisible to others unless we actively assert it. This sense of isolation and not belonging in the world follows us persistently, like a shadow. Although we tell ourselves we are beautiful, there’s a nagging feeling of sadness when an actress plays a role in a movie or television show, illustrating what you’ve been looking for all your life, only to see her not accepted or acknowledged for her work.
It all goes back to the heart of the beauty of the Black woman, which transcends the physical, and how it’s vitally necessary as a source of strength for the entire community. Studies show that the lack of media representation and not seeing our Black beauty reflected around us are particularly harmful for Black women. But few studies have been done to explore specifically how Black women are affected by this phenomenon.
Historically, Black women’s oppression has taken three forms: economic, political, and through negative controlling images. How Black women respond to that oppression is best understood through the lens of Black feminist theory. As an academic specializing in race, class, and gender, Patricia Hill Collins is a distinguished university professor of sociology emerita at the University of Maryland, College Park. She and others have noted that one such response is to internalize these racist messages that decree Black women second-rate and abnormal based on the White standard. Internalized racism is a prominent theme in Black literature (e.g., novelists such as George Schulyer, James Baldwin, Zora Neale Hurston, Gwendolyn Brooks, and Toni Morrison).104
A recent study conducted at a large southwestern university confirms that young Black women often feel constrained and devalued by white beauty standards, which celebrate features and aesthetics that are typically unattainable for them. Despite prior studies that suggest Black women have high esteem when it comes to body image attitudes, these data amply demonstrate that Black women struggle daily with reconciling their beauty with that of mainstream standards. Black women feel like they are constantly assaulted (blatant and latent) for their perceived “ugliness” by the media, peers, and even family.105
In keeping with Black feminist theory, one of the ways some of these women cope with these microaggressions and invalidations is to redefine or self-define a beauty standard that is not at odds with their own aesthetic.106 To illustrate this point, one respondent notes:
As long as I perceive myself as beautiful, then I really don’t have any issues with the media’s definition of beautiful or how others would define beauty or just anything that goes along with that type of reference just because of what’s in the media today and what image, like what the younger generation’s going through. And even just us, what you always see in the magazine or the TV. If you don’t have that self-image, then you might not be satisfied with yourself.107
According to Dr. Christine C. Iijima Hall, an expert in this area, feelings of inadequacy and inferiority about personal beauty emerge as major themes in the mental health treatment of African American women.108 These themes are both historical and sociopolitical. She explains that Black women may be additionally vulnerable due to the double jeopardy of racism and sexism in the American beauty standard.109 This, compounded with discrimination, can cause “insidious trauma”110 and if prolonged, may lead to reactions resembling post-traumatic stress disorder.111 In fact, psychologists of color have even begun to view racism as a form of long-term terrorism.112
Dr. Hall suggests that members of the Black community consider several strategies, including teaching children to critically evaluate the white beauty standards often propagated in the media and society. Since “beauty is…a result of societal indoctrination,” according to sociocultural theory,113 beauty can be indoctrinated in a positive direction by a nurturing environment. For example, Gitter and O’Connell114 found that doll color preference could be changed by differentially rewarding children who chose the dark doll. The Black community, and particularly the Black family, may need to strongly reinforce the positive African image. Dr. Hall also recommends community activities that increase ethnic pride.
Other options appropriate for addressing the issue of body image with African American women include a better understanding of the political and social realities while obtaining tools with which to fight an oppressive society. Culturally relevant therapy that addresses the issues of oppression, powerlessness, and racist and sexist “insidious trauma” can provide a Black woman with awareness of the external forces affecting her body image and coping mechanisms.115
This can also be accomplished through individual and/or group therapy. Nancy Boyd-Franklin116 has found support groups with Black women who share similar experiences to be extremely successful. She reports that these groups tend to help each other “gain important insight into these unconscious triggers, fears, anger and resentment…” Women can express these feelings toward society, and perhaps toward the family, that create negative perceptions of their bodies, skin, hair, and facial features. Once this process is completed, African American women may be better prepared to deal with discrimination in the future.117
Political and economic involvement is yet another therapeutic intervention for women of color. Activism not only empowers people so they are less likely to feel helpless; it can also lead to societal changes. Ethnic women’s responses to white beauty standards cannot be viewed as an esoteric or pathologically narcissistic issue. Issues of racism, sexism, poverty, and other forms of discrimination affect women of color in various ways. Negative body image is simply one by-product of a society that does not recognize the social, scientific, professional, and political contributions of African American women.118
When we think about ways to empower ourselves and assert our own value, we must remember our beautiful cultural tradition of using beauty as a resource to uplift the community. It’s also crucial to acknowledge that research, historical backgrounds, and studies show Black women are overwhelmingly negatively affected by various factors. These include the lack of representation and erasure of our beauty in mainstream media, the lack of cosmetic options that cater to our needs, and the negative stereotypes that plague our identities. With growing awareness of my history, my activism and confidence blossomed, leading me to perceive my beauty in a way that transcends mere physical appearance. I began to feel beautiful because I knew I was uplifting other Black women in everything I did. The glow up was for each and every Black woman I interacted with.
And my own journey is still one of growth and discovery in exploring how I react to the world and how to work on the process of decolonizing my own mind. Understanding the historical reasons behind the use of meaningless archetypes to frame Black womanhood helped put my feelings of discontent into context. I was not alone in how I felt. This has been going on since the beginning of our existence in the Western hemisphere. Women across the African diaspora have been viewed as commodities, and our beauty has been fetishized, marginalized, and appropriated without our permission or acknowledgment of just how central our beauty is to popular culture.
For many of us, the relentless campaign to erase Black beauty leaves us feeling marginalized and invisible. Struggling to find makeup that matches our skin tones is more than an inconvenience; it’s a blatant manifestation of racial bias. Similarly, the lack of representation in beauty standards is deeply disconcerting and alienating. But we have started to see Black female entrepreneurs embark on a mission to bring Black beauty into the mainstream retail market. Seeing our images, products designed for us, and marketing that speaks to our unique needs, we are able to feel validated and, most of all, to feel as beautiful on the outside as we know we are both inside and out.
I have had the opportunity to engage with individuals who are combating these issues head-on. For example, during an episode of the Black Power Moves podcast, I had the opportunity to interview KJ Miller, cofounder of Mented Cosmetics. This multimillion-dollar cosmetics company that Miller and her partner founded focuses on offering a selection of lipsticks and other beauty products especially made for women of color in an effort to provide access to cosmetics that work with different skin tones. She created the first lipstick by whipping up the formula in her kitchen and launched it in 2017 with fellow Harvard graduate Amanda E. Johnson. Their mission, as stated on their website, is inclusive and empowering: “Mented exists to celebrate all hues and to make beauty truly, wonderfully inclusive. We created Mented Cosmetics because we believe everyone should be able to find themselves in the world of beauty, no matter your skin tone. We know you’ll love being put first—because when it comes to beauty, no one deserves to be an afterthought.”
The makeup brand started as a conversation with her friend and cofounder about the products they wanted as Black women, but didn’t see available in the market.
