Reflections on "Black trauma porn"
The social media backlash (and other issues that won’t be taken up here) that hastened the box office death of the movie musical, The Color Purple, was fueled by those who label this film (and others, including, 12 Years a Slave, Precious, Till, and Them) as “Black trauma porn.” Despite several Internet searches, I could not find a conclusive definition for the term; nevertheless, TheGrio describes trauma porn as “any type of media – be it written, photographed or filmed – which exploits traumatic moments of adversity to generate buzz, notoriety or social media attention.”
(In the interest of transparency, I admit that I enjoyed The Color Purple: the choreography, the music, and the performances. My granddaughter, on the other hand, did not. (“Who asked for another The Color Purple?”) That said, consider these perspectives on trauma porn as they relate to Black stories, Black historical events, and Black representations in media.
First, films, books, or TV series, however flawed, which portray the oppression of Black people are rooted in the nation’s history of discrimination, upheld by Jim Crow laws, predatory practices of banks and other institutions, and the denial of civil and human rights. The predominant theme of such works is individuals or groups battling or overcoming systemic racism in the face of Herculean odds, not submitting to their subjugation.
Second, one can disagree with creators’ content or forms of expression without denying their right to choose which topics to tackle, or calling for boycotts or bans on their creative output. (That, folks, is a slippery slope.) There is room (and a need) for diverse points of view and artistic interpretations among Black artists.
Third, by all statistical measures, the causes of present-day Black “trauma” include:
Police violence against Black men, women, and children
Generational disparities in income, health, and wealth
Higher maternal and infant morbidity and mortality
Coopting the term “woke” to justify banning books (related to American slavery, the Civil Rights movement, or Black historical figures)
Dismantling of reproductive rights, which disproportionately affects Black women.
Major media outlets and corporate media seldom cover these stories in depth, so we depend on storytellers to tell them.
Finally, chattel slavery, as depicted in the film and television industries, has never fully captured the brutality of slaveholders, which included whippings, torture, and mutilation. Too often portrayals of Black men and women under slavery suggest they were docile, forgiving, or helpless, rather than rebellious, ingenious, and resourceful in their efforts to survive or escape bondage. One-dimensional characterizations feed the discomforting image of our ancestors as victims and evoke subconscious feelings of shame. Consequently, some voices—Black and white--decry or discredit stories set in the antebellum South.
I am not dismissive of those who oppose what they consider Black trauma porn, yet I remind them that white nationalists, alt-right groups, and MAGA Republicans are relentless in their efforts to whitewash the history and contributions of Blacks in America, so it is imperative that we encourage truth-telling, however, ugly or unsettling.
Unfortunately, among the current generation, there are those who cannot identify with the experiences or sufferings of previous generations, yet it behooves them to recognize oppression in its modern ideations. Jamaican political activist, Marcus Garvey, cautioned, “A people without knowledge of their past history, origin and culture is like a tree without roots.”
2024 Wista Johnson (Reprint by permission only.) Photo: icon ade (vecteezy.com)