Small Doses

by Amanda Seales

  Dear Fashion Magazines, stop referring to things as “new trends” that are simply white people finding out about it for the first time. Dear People of the Continent of Africa, stop saying black Americans are culturally appropriating when we wear dashikis. They are worn to pay homage and acknowledgment to our ancestry, which, though varied, is predominantly West African, and to show pride in our roots, which oppressors have systematically attempted to sever. Dear White Girls, stop thinking that just because something is beautiful, unique, cute, vibrant, opulent, has feathers, or simply exists, that it is yours for the taking. It is not. Certain things belong to certain peoples. There are cultural creations and traditions that are sacred and cherished by those who are a part of that ethnic group, and unless you have insight or an invite into that space, KNOW YOUR PLACE, aka show your love and keep it moving, it’s not for you. Dear Black Men, stop accusing black women with blond hair of culturally appropriating white women. It is a color, and it is not a part of their culture—furthermore, there are indigenous black people all over the world with blond hair. Dear Americans, stop celebrating Cinco de Mayo like it’s an actual holiday when Mexicans don’t even regard it as one. You have SantaCon to drink. Also, stop having, “black parties” where you dress up as “black people,” it’s racist. Furthermore, stop wearing traditional ethnic garb as a Halloween costume. A culture is not a costume. You’re not a “sexy Indian,” you’re a “stupid idiot.”

  Dear Everyone, stop looking to other cultures for what they have that you can take, and instead look within at what you have. Ideate. Originate. Create. Sure, you can be inspired by others, but there is so much more in creating than simply copying. Check your ego, greed, and laziness when being made aware of other cultures and know that sharing is a gift. Honor the access when it is given and respect when it is not.

  Smart Funny & (Less) Black?

  THAT ONE TIME

  I originally created the show Smart Funny & Black because I was fed up with seeing a constant barrage of negative images of black folks in media. The stereotypes of black men as thugs, black women as “angry” and “confrontational” are pervasive and out of control. Furthermore, whereas in the past we had safe spaces like Def Comedy Jam, In Living Color, and Chappelle’s Show that comedically spoke to our unique and varied cultural experiences, present day was lacking any such comfort zone. Not one to complain without offering up a solution, I decided to be the solution. When I moved to LA, I decided to take a brand I had already established in NYC as a comedy showcase and reimagine it as a show that celebrated black culture, black history, and the black experience through a comedic game format. I pitched it to NerdMelt, a small comedy venue in the back of a comic book store on Sunset Boulevard in West Hollywood. By the fifth show, it sold out, and I never looked back. The response was incredible. I knew that we, as a people, needed this, but I could never have anticipated how earnestly folks would get behind the show’s format and content and the possibility of it being on the TV screen. I was filled with hope and tenacity to follow their encouragement and take Smart Funny & Black to the next level by getting it into American households. Surely, this hella funny, incredibly entertaining, super authentic show would be snatched up by a network, “they” said. With the country descending into sociopolitical sewage, any platform would want to be a part of the solution, “they” said. “They” would want to bring other perspectives to the forefront and be mavericks for change, “they” said. “They” would see the basics in the genius of the content and rush to find a space for it to shine, “they” said. “They” would grasp, with both hands, the deep-rooted blackness of it all and unabashedly shine a light on it for all to see! . . . “they” said. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking listening to “them,” cuz them white folks was not tryna hear it.

  Let me just start by saying to all white people and people who happen to be white who are reading this, ALL BLACK PEOPLE ARE NOT THE SAME. I know, I shouldn’t have to say that, but I do. That is where stereotypes are spawned, and thrive—in the ignorance of thinking of a culture in such one-dimensional terms that you fail to consider that there are different types of black people who watch and make different types of content. For a long time, black comedy was only considered one thing: fast and physical. Even in the black community, if your comedy was on the more cerebral side of thangs, a lot of times, they’d label you as “alt” or a “comic’s comic,” but you weren’t initially embraced by black audiences in the same way as comedians who represented in a more traditional style of what had come to be considered “black comedy.” With Smart Funny & Black, I wanted to include all the pieces that make traditional black comedy the unique art that it is, but also broaden the scope and acknowledge that different intellect and wit amongst black funny folks about black life is also integral and valuable and representational of the community. That’s literally how I came up with the name. A comedy club in NYC was offering me a monthly night to do a show and they coyly asked, “What type of audience are you expecting?” I could hear the tremble of whiteness as the booker tiptoed around Martin Luther King Jr. and Maya Angelou to get it out and to my ears. I told him, “My audience is gonna be smart, funny, and black. In fact, let’s just call it that so there’s no confusion on what to expect.” And that was all she wrote. Needless to say, the title did absolutely the opposite when it came time to sell it.

  I was already hosting a show for a network and while in NYC for the week I decided to stop in for a meeting with the exec on the show and the talent person. We had a pleasant meeting and upon my exit they asked if I was working on anything at the present time. I replied that I was launching a new live show called Smart Funny & Black the following week. They were shocked and giddy as the executive producer said, “That’s crazy because we JUST had a meeting and said we need to acquire intellectual, humorous, African American content, ASAP”! I told them to look no further and sent over the tape of the first show. This launched into a year-long process of twists and turns and nervous execs, and funny style execs, and shook ones execs, and shady backstabbing execs who say sly slick shit and bold ignorant shit, and you feel like you have to exercise more restraint than a black man being excessively manhandled by a police officer, and bite your tongue before you bite yourself in the ass and watch the opportunity dissolve like when Roseanne thought being racist on Twitter would go unnoticed (still laughing btw). I was paired with two execs—a white woman and man—to sherpa the project to the pilot phase. Though I had a fully fleshed-out project that was already on stage every month, they expressed continual reservations on if it was “clear” and whether or not people would “get it.” It didn’t take long for me to realize that “people” meant “white people” and “clear” meant “safe.” However, the most ridiculous and offensive statement said to me in the back-and-forth of development, and which reflects the true feelings behind much of the Hollywood that claims to want diversity, but not if it’s going to make anyone “uncomfortable” was: “We just want to make sure we’re not making a show just for black people.” I’m going to type it for y’all one more time, so you can see, one mo’ ’gain, the sentence that was said to me, without a hint of irony, while on a conference call:

  “WE JUST WANT TO MAKE SURE WE’RE NOT MAKING A SHOW JUST FOR BLACK PEOPLE.”

  It was so damn idiotic, offensive, ignorant, and plain ol’ white, that before I unleashed the verbal revolution that had sprung on to the tip of my tongue, I felt myself fly out of my body, look down at myself, and say, “Girl, don’t even let ’em take you there.” When you hear something like that, from your network exec, it’s like the first time you’re called “nigger.” You’re almost more shocked than you are offended like, “*Flava Flav voice* WoOooooOOoOoooOoOow, you straight up said that!” It’s pity, over anger, that has you looking at the person, like, “What happened? Where did the disconnect take place that has you in this ill-fitting pantsuit thinking that’s a suitable thing to say to anyone, let alone a bish like me???” She deserved a s
mooth read and a quick exit off the phone, but that wasn’t possible. You see in these moments you find out what you’re really about. Are you going to go rah-rah and give them the “angry black woman” stereotype? Or give her a reason to let the project go? No, because then “they” win. Who’s “they” Amanda? All the forces that have been at work for centuries to prevent you from even being in the position to have this call. I’m not saying you don’t have every right to rah-rah it up! But there’s how things should be and how things are. That said, that moment wasn’t the time for my revolution. Instead of reading her for Hoarders-level filth, I gathered my calmness and in a very relaxed, consciously nonconfrontational tone, responded with a simple statement: “Well, we only make up approximately 12.5 percent of the population and everything we do is stolen, appropriated, or commodified. So, you have nothing to worry about.” Her response: “You don’t have to get defensive, Amanda.” LOL. So predictable . . . and, actually, YES, I DO. They then attempted to insert token white-guy-who-black-people-like Michael Rapaport into the show to “help bridge the gap with their white audience.” Y’all, I need a parade and a stamp with my face on it for the level of grace I exhibited with these fools as they simply couldn’t fathom that white people would watch a show about black pop culture as if all their sons, daughters, nephews, and nieces aren’t screaming “nigga” at a Kendrick Lamar concert as we speak. As if they themselves don’t know the theme song to Fresh Prince of Bel-Air, and that Jay-Z is married to Beyoncé, and didn’t get their hair braided that one time down in the Bahamas.

  Black culture has globally made the world exalt, kept it entertained, ignited it with soul and vibrance and controversy for centuries. White people and people who happen to be white LOVE black culture. The latter take it in because they appreciate it, the former take it in because . . . plot twist . . . they appreciate it, too!!!! And it kills them! So they steal it and attempt to undermine and detach it from its true origin so they can have it for themselves. But like a flower plucked from its stem, it can only blossom for so long before it withers and dies. That is why her concern, and the concern of so many execs who regularly turn projects away, not because they aren’t exciting, or well thought out, or innovative, is rooted in a topline narrative that “White people only watch white people, or a certain kind of black people” and is baseless. The question of “Will white people watch this,” is not only hackneyed and trite, it’s INVALID. White people, black people, Asian people, disabled people, trans people, all people watch the same things, programming that falls into one of these three categories: content that is authentic, content that is an escape, content that is relative to their lives. That’s it. To overlook these verticals in favor of race-based fear is to be a part of enabling the institution of racism and the practice of discrimination in this nation.

  The truth of the matter is that I, and my show, do not fit what those execs, or any others (with one exception—shout out to Ben Relles) consider to be their stereotypical idea of what black comedy is and the type of black content that black or white people watch. Even though I was literally ON a hit black TV show that defied all of those predetermined concepts, in their timidity they remained static in being able to conceptualize how a show that used comedy and a game show format to explore life through the black American lens would be valuable to their community and to their viewers. Questions I was asked: Are you going to have white guests? Will there be subtitles for slang words? Why would people in other countries watch this? One exec said, “I don’t know what Juneteenth is. Even your guests didn’t know what it was, and they’re black!” This is exactly why the show is necessary. Dear White People, those of us black folks who went to your predominantly white schools didn’t get access to learning about our history, either. We were right next to you as they praised Andrew Jackson like he wasn’t a genocidal psychopath who wiped out the indigenous people of this continent. We were right next to you as they praised Christopher Columbus like he wasn’t a high-paid thief and rapist who wiped out the Carib and Arawak Indians of the Caribbean. We were right next to you as they praised Thomas Jefferson for writing the Declaration of Independence while he was sleeping with his slaves on Monticello, what is known to be one of the most horrific plantations and is also on the back of the nickel. We heard all the lies and suffered all the omissions. If our parents or an outside resource didn’t provide it, a lot of us didn’t learn about our own black history and heritage until we went to college and took a class on it. Knowing this, I feel it’s important to be a part of preventing that and to do so by continuing to use the number one resource that I have: humor. Though it may not look like what these folks have decided is “black comedy,” it is absolutely and innately that. Outside of simply speaking to black folks it’s imperative that there be an awakened understanding of the existence and validity of a variance of perspectives. When we shout, “Black Lives Matter,” we mean it ain’t just about white folks. When we demand “diversity,” we mean we want to hear other stories and other points of view. When we sing, “All my niggas in the whole wide world . . . this shit is for US” we mean we are not beholden to making every piece of our black culture, which was born despite oppression, accessible to those who are not a part of it. America and the world needs to not only be made aware of that, but to understand and accept that. Though we may live in a country that does its best to impede that social evolution by always taking measures to divert truth and learning from permeating too deep into the middle/lower income consciousness, I will do my part to continuously challenge and defy that with my voice and my art.

  What I learned in the process of attempting to sell Smart Funny & Black was that so many people still feel that the only way to elevation and expansion is through the well-worn path of commercial growth and capitalism via big business and corporations. However, it hit me as I was in Grenada, driving 18,000 feet above sea level on my way to the hot springs, that in order for Smart Funny & Black to reach the full extent of its potential, it needed to be protected and preserved from the capitalist-driven commerce of the television business. I would need to build it organically, through the people it seeks to service. In order to truly change the narrative on stereotypes that limit black excellence it would require the full extension of its wings so it can affect as many people as possible. The executives who saw it as too black, or not “black enough,” or not white-able were less obstacles and more much-needed omens nudging me in the direction of purpose. At the very least, the purpose of Smart Funny & Black is to give individuals a point of soulful soul-filled light to revel in and rejuvenate in the seemingly endless fight to freely exist in blackness. At the most it seeks to defy racial barriers and limitations using comedy as our artillery, and to do so while always keeping social justice in our scope.

  SIDE EFFECTS OF

  Staying Woke

  Conscious minds who see the truth

  While others remain asleep,

  We stay awake to the ways of the world

  Cuz shit is deep.

  WHAT DOES “WOKE” MEAN?

  An acute awareness of the racial injustices of black* people.

  SELF-CARE

  Wokeness is a constant state of awareness that can undoubtedly be stressful, frustrating, and anger-inducing as one acknowledges the endless stream of racial injustices that continue to plague people of color.

  In this maelstrom of mayonnaise-based fuckery one must protect not only their bodies and minds, but also their hearts by finding the joy. I am often asked, “Amanda, how do you stay committed to speaking about the cause?” “How do you keep from shutting down and isolating yourself?” “How do you manage all the ignorance being spewed in your direction?”

  I have my own self-care routines (i.e., watching Game of Thrones while playing Candy Crush), but some of them are universal and can help us all as we fight the good fight!

  • Find the Joy: You owe it to yourself to find even a pocket of joy at least once day. It can be as simple as taking time out to enjoy a scoop
of ice cream or laughing/crying at a fave IG account. Whatever it is, whenever possible, pause to locate and possess some joy for your soul.

  • Circle of Dopeness: When people ask me how I manage all the ignorance coming my way, I tell them it is immensely outweighed by the dopeness of my inner circle. The people closest to you say so much about who you are and also affect the dimensions of your world. Make sure to curate a circle of dopeness made up of people that are pursuing their own excellence and encouraging you to do the same while staying real.

  • Refine the Rage: You can’t be mad at everything, all the time. It’s exhausting and leaves you spread too thin for the fights that really matter. Eventually you have to refine your rage to preserve your energy and at the same time intensify your effect. It doesn’t mean you’re fake, or you’re shady—it’s the same concept as choosing your battles. When you sharpen your blade by becoming clear on exactly what your bottom lines are, you in turn articulate your anger and fuel it with information versus just emotion, which is much easier for you to control and wield at your disposal.

  EVERYBODY DON’T HAVE THE SAME IDEA FOR SAVING

  One of the realities of being woke is that not everybody else is, and you can’t wake everyone up. It is incredibly disheartening when this truth hits you in the face like a pair of Chucks falling off a telephone wire, but it’s the truth. The sooner you can grasp this, the sooner you can place your focus on assisting those who are woke, and in leading by example, hopefully you cause someone who previously chose ignorance to adjust their thinking.