I Was Born By The River: Atlanta and The Legacy of Enslavement
I was born by the river, in a little tent / Oh and just like the river, I’ve been running ever since / it’s been a long time, long time coming /but I know a change gonna come (Sam Cook, “Change Gonna Come”)
The black bourgeoisie and the black working class has always had a contentious relationship. Even today, the intraracial stratification--those with means and those without--still affect daily interactions.
Did you go to college? Which one? What kind of car do you drive? Do you HAVE a car?
Questions like these create a hierarchy within the community, heavily policed from within, and can seem fixed unless a person from limited means somehow slips through and proves to be equal or superior to those deemed “better.”
In other words, someone must prove that there is no such thing as a “good” black person and a “bad” black person. It requires a shattering of a binary. When I graduated college, I’d often go to black professional mixers. The parties were filled with people who were lawyers, doctors, deans, and rising tastemakers--people I admired greatly. I was the first person in my family to graduate from a Historically Black College, one of the first generation of American born, and the first to achieve a graduate degree. I was happy to be in this space and share stories of our struggles and successes. Unfortunately, these mixers were less of a unifying space and more of a culling. “What year did you graduate Spelman?”“Actually, I went to Clark Atlanta. Graduated in 2000.”“Oh! Well Clark Atlanta is okay too. I mean, it’s not Spelman, but it’s cool.”
For this reason, and a myriad of other experiences, the FX television show Atlanta stood out to me. Television shows that focus on the inner worlds of people of color are often short-lived and forgotten in mainstream consciousness, until this moment. Atlanta breaks the mold by humorously highlighting conflicts in intraracial relationships that are often kept hidden from outsiders. Writer and comedian Donald Glover, also known as rapper Childish Gambino, created Atlanta, a comedy-drama set in Atlanta, Georgia centered around three friends navigating the rap industry and increasing tensions of their adult lives. The television show received several accolades and critical acclaim, earning the show two Golden Globes and two Primetime Emmys, including the award for Outstanding Director in a Comedy Series (the first to be earned by an African American).
Atlanta stands out in a sea of hilarious comedies because the characters in Atlanta have diverse backgrounds--Earn is an ivy-league college dropout trying to manage his cousin’s rap career, Van is a schoolteacher who is the mother of his child and on-and-off girlfriend, Alfred (also known as PaperBoi) is Earn’s cousin and rising rapper, and Darius is their overly-optimistic, constantly high friend and roadie. The wildly different backgrounds of the main characters show a wonderfully heterogenous black community, unlike many other depictions of black life on television. Donald Glover also presents a truly authentic view of the city of Atlanta--from filming the show in the city and showing many important landmarks to casting real Atlanta celebrities like Michael Vick and The Migos--thereby making the city more nuanced than simply the Martin Luther King Center and Centennial Olympic Park. Much of the careful portrayal of the city is that it is done through the eyes of the black residents of the city. In Maureen Ryan’s Variety article, “Why Television is Finally Embracing the Realities of Race,” she notes that people of color have often been relegated to the background and their distinct experiences diluted or even whitewashed. It was a jolting and refreshing change to have a show that not only avoided TV’s typical tropes — one black friend or one Hispanic detective in a given ensemble — but portrayed a varied group of Hispanic, Asian, African-American and white characters with an enormous array of personalities, backgrounds and agendas. (Ryan)
The fact that it is jolting is notable, not only because audiences have become comfortable with stereotypes, but also because shows that deviate from the tropes often receive no awards or widespread notice. Thankfully, that has changed. Television shows that focus on the inner worlds of people of color are becoming not just popular, but normalized, and Atlanta shines among them.
In the first season of Atlanta, the “Juneteenth” episode connects respectability politics to the legacy of slavery. At its core, respectability politics is the policing of behavior within marginalized communities. The wealthier, more upwardly mobile members of the community dictate how other members should behave using standards from the majority – as an attempt to shame poorer and less educated minorities for failing to imitate the behavior of a wealthier white majority. In Black American society, respectability politics usually refers to rejecting black cultural practices believed to be shameful, inferior, or “ghetto.” In effect, respectability politics not only embraces stereotypes, but also creates a hierarchy which lauds white upper-class behaviors over black working-class ones. The clash of socioeconomic classes is a thread that runs through the entire show, but the “Juneteenth” episode most clearly addresses this tension.
Van and Earn attend a Juneteenth-themed party hosted in a plantation-style house by Monique, a social climber and member of the black elite. Celebrated on June 19th, Juneteenth is an American holiday which commemorates the day when Texan slaves discovered that they were free. On June 19, 1865, slaves in the most remote part of the Confederacy, who had not heard of the signing of the Emancipation Proclamation or the ending of the Civil War, learned through the arrival of Major General Gordon Granger that they had been free for over two years. It is celebrated throughout the South with local parades, festivals, and events.
When Van and Earn arrive, the “Juneteenth” party is already strange and pretentious, and something only a white person disconnected to the legacy of slavery would host. Moments later, we discover that Monique is indeed married to a white man named Craig who seems to fetishize black culture. Hired black singers dressed in tuxedos and white gloves harmonize to watered down negro spirituals while the guests in their best blue-themed cocktail attire ignore the staff entirely. The singers, just shy of blackface, feel like the height of black minstrelsy. Even the fixed drink menu is problematic, limiting guests choices to “Plantation Master Poison,” “Frozen Freedom Margarita,” “Emancipation Eggnog,” and “Juneteenth Juice.” Both Van and Earn are uncomfortable--Earn even more than Van because he simply doesn’t want to perform--but the possibilities are too tantalizing to ignore.
Earn: You sure you want to stay here the whole time?
Van: Yes.
Earn: Are you sure, though? It doesn't feel like you're in a Spike Lee-directed "Eyes Wide Shut" right now? Hmm. Are these slave ships?
Van: Do you think that I am happy here, having to prostitute myself for an opportunity?
Earn: Maybe.
The episode highlights conflicts within the black community heightened by class and education. Everyone in the episode wears blue, but something about the uniformity of the guests alarms Earn. In this way, the party calls attention to a specific facet of black elitism, one that has a long history with slavery: Blue Vein societies. Blue Vein societies were black social organizations made up of freedmen (the professionals, the debutantes, and the well-educated) that existed at the end of the Civil War. Blue Vein societies offered special consideration for jobs, real estate, and power to its members. These groups were termed ‘Blue Vein’ because members were expected to have light enough skin that their veins were visible, generally excluding darker skinned African Americans, unless they had notable connections, accomplishments, or influence. The guests’ interrogations of Van and Earn about their accomplishments and potential mirror the vetting process of ‘Blue Vein’ societies. It is also important to note that ‘Blue Vein’ societies operate as a black equivalent to ‘blue bloods,’ an idiom used to categorize British aristocracy. ‘Blue Bloods’ were recognized by their pale skin (and supposed blue blood) which suggested that they were too powerful or wealthy to do manual labor.
The “Juneteenth” episode is packed with historical references. Most importantly, the storyline of the episode echoes that of “The Wife of His Youth,” a short story written by Charles Chesnutt in 1898. In it, the protagonist, Mr. Ryder, is a part of an illustrious Blue Vein society but secretly lived on a Southern plantation while apprenticed to a white man. Mr. Ryder ran away from the plantation shortly before he was to be sold and fled to the North--leaving his dark-skinned slave wife behind, and he just desperately wants to hide his meager background and gain access to their privilege and opportunity. Mr. Ryder performs well, disarming those that might question his legitimacy to their elite group: While he was not as white as some of the blue veins, his appearance was such as to confer distinction upon them. His features were of a refined type, his hair was almost straight; he was always neatly dressed; his manners were irreproachable, and his morals above suspicion. (Chesnutt)
Van is desperately trying to join a social circle much like Mr. Ryder’s, but her biggest concern is Earn. The conflict begins as Van and Earn struggle to meet the stringent requirements of the social group--appropriate career, appropriate clothing, appropriate social etiquette, appropriate money. Van, in an attempt to join this elite society, presents Earn as her well-educated husband--treading on his well-known Princeton education--and coaches him on how to “pretend they are in love” for the sake of her upward mobility. On paper, Earn is Ivy League educated, brilliant, and full of promise. In real life, Earn is a mess and, by proxy, so is Van. So Van finds herself in a predicament much like Mr Ryder’s: if they realize that she associates with people like Earn, her opportunity will be lost.
Van yearns to be a part of this elite group and is also an imposter, just like Mr. Ryder. However, they both are willing to abandon their past in order to gain access--even if it means prostituting themselves and then vetting all newcomers--in essence, becoming the new gatekeepers. In “The Wife Of His Youth,” Mr. Ryder delivers a heartfelt speech doing just that. Our fate lies between absorption by the white race and extinction in the black. The one doesn’t want us yet, but may take us in time. The other would welcome us, but it would be for us a backward step. ‘With malice towards none, with charity for all,’ we must do the best we can for ourselves and those who are to follow us. Self-preservation is the first law of nature. (Chesnutt)
Naming the episode “Juneteenth” is more than framing the social event, it is a call to the historical Juneteenth, placing Van and Earn as “ex-slaves” among wealthy, successful “freedmen.” For the majority of “The Wife of His Youth” and “Juneteenth,” Mr. Ryder and Van are successful in their deceit and inch closer to achieving their goals of being firmly anchored in this world of possibilities. Unfortunately their facade starts to fall apart at a ball (Ryder hosts one intending to publicly propose to the most eligible “fair” maiden, Van attends one in celebration of Juneteenth) when they both are faced with their past. Mr. Ryder is confronted by his older, dark-skinned, uneducated wife and must make the decision to claim or deny her. Van and Earn perform beautifully as an upwardly mobile couple until the valets--portrayed as beneath the partygoers--recognize Earn as Paper Boi’s manager. Both Van and Ryder must make a choice.
Van is horrified, Monique is in disbelief, until Craig realizes that Earn is, in fact, involved with Paper Boi. Craig is impressed, but Monique is disgusted and tries to take Craig to meet more viable candidates.
Monique: Can't choose your family, huh? Every decent person has at least one trifling thug in the family. [chuckles] Oh, honey, let's go say "hello" to...
Earn: Eh, no. I'm sorry. This is whack. This is... this is whack.
Van: Babe, please.
Earn: No, no. Okay, like, this isn't real life, okay? This this party is dumb. She's dumb. This is all dumb. You know that, Van.Van: Okay. (Atlanta)
Van ushers Earn out of the party--her opportunity blown--and they make love in the car. She chooses Earn. Similarly, Mr. Ryder finds himself pulled between the image he has so carefully cultivated and being true his past. Ryder poses a question to the group--asking them if a hypothetical person should claim his long forgotten wife. They all agree that he should. He came back in a moment, leading by the hand his visitor of the afternoon, who stood startled and trembling at the sudden plunge into this scene of brilliant gayety. She was neatly dressed in gray, and wore the white cap of all elderly woman.“Ladies and gentlemen," he said, “this is the woman, and I am this man, whose story I have told you. Permit me to introduce to you this wife of my youth"(Chesnutt). The story ends. As the audience, we are unclear whether he loses his position in the ‘Blue Vein’ society or if his moral center saves him. The same can be said for Van. The episode ends with Van deciding to call Monique later and apologize. It is never clarified if they choose to still admit her, but like Ryder, the audience expects that she will be outcasted. The conflict between the different socioeconomic statuses in black culture is brought to the forefront, when generally it is a private conflict.“Juneteenth” showcases the fetishization of emancipation through the singers, the staff, and the white husband’s cultural appropriation. The Blue Vein societies were created by freedmen before emancipation; Juneteenth is a moment that they can be removed from because of their status. Van and Earn represent slaves discovering their emancipation, while the guests are the black elite that turn a pivotal historical event into minstrelsy.
The conflict in the episode reflects the change in popular culture and its reflection of black culture. Instead of painting people of color with one broad stroke, the internal conflicts within these communities are being hashed out with care. The histories that inform the interactions between diverse black people are now being made for public consumption. For the audience unfamiliar with American black culture, intraracial conflicts can help with a less stereotypical understanding of blackness and a glimpse into the history of these conflicts. For the audience already armed with the knowledge of these historical markers and their lasting influences, the Juneteenth episode reads authentic, true, and humorously painful.
The Juneteenth episode is a reminder that upward mobility for black people--perhaps for all marginalized people--comes at a high cost. It is a choice to abandon hobbies, language, friends in order to be the right kind of black. It is a choice between taking the long slog to financial stability, respect, and freedom or rejecting the past that formed all of us for a rocketship to, as James Baldwin puts it, “the glittering city.” “Juneteenth” unpacks the anxiety of those outside of the “right schools,” the “right jobs,” and, of course, the “right money.” The performance of “bad and bougie”--the perfect blend of black culture and white standards is exhausting and fake. Perhaps the point of the episode, and of Chesnutt, is to embrace being born by the river in a little tent. Or, if I had the courage all those years ago, to say, like Earn, “this is whack.”
Published in Onyx Magazine, Oxford, 2019