August 20-26, 2020
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TV fiction depicts backlash women face while running for highest office By Karrin Vasby Anderson
E
ven before Democratic Presidential candidate Joe Biden named Sen. Kamala Harris as his VP pick last week, his promise to name a woman running mate had already prompted familiar debates about gender and power. Are these potential vice presidents supposed to be presidential lackeys or understudies to the leader of the free world? Should they actively seek the position, or be reluctant nominees bound by duty? After Sen. Kamala Harris’ name emerged as a short-list favorite, CNBC reported that some Biden allies and donors “initiated a campaign against Harris,” arguing that she was “too ambitious” and would be “solely focused on eventually becoming president.” Claiming that people who want to be president make bad vice presidents might seem illconceived if your audience is Vice President Joe Biden. And pundits and journalists quickly pointed out that the argument was racist and sexist—like, really, really sexist. So why were Democratic Party insiders spouting it? One clue can be found in the way we tell stories about women politicians. In our book, “Woman President: Confronting Postfeminist Political Culture,”
Sen. Kamala Harris has been attacked for trying to climb too high. AP Photo/John Locher communication scholar Kristina Horn Sheeler and I examine how fictional and actual women presidential figures are framed in news coverage, political satire, memes, television and film. Our close reading of these diverse texts reveals a persistent backlash that takes many forms: satirical cartoons that deploy sexist stereotypes; the pornification of women candidates in memes; and news framing that includes misogynistic metaphors, to name a few. But in our chapter on fictional women presidents on screen, we found something particularly relevant to the coverage of the Democratic Party “veepstakes.” Women who are politically ambi-
tious are presented as less trustworthy than those who don’t actively seek the presidency. There have been seven series on U.S. television that follow a woman president for at least one full season: ABC’s “Commander in Chief;” the Sci-Fi Channel’s
create a “likeable” woman president, they go out of their way to demonstrate that pursuing the presidency isn’t her life’s goal. The women presidents in “Commander in Chief” and “Battlestar Galactica” didn’t campaign for the office. They ascended to the presidency as a result of tragedy. In the former, the president dies of a brain aneurysm; in the latter, a nuclear attack takes out the first 42 people in the presidential line of succession, leaving the secretary of education to fill the role. (To be fair, this did seem like a woman’s likeliest path to presidential power in 2004.) Each character is portrayed as an ethical and effective leader—not perfect, but plausibly presidential. Conversely, series like “24” and “Homeland” feature women candidates who aggressively seek the presidency. In both cases, the women start out as principled politicians, but their true nature is revealed as weak and duplicitous. Their presidential tenures end up being ruin-
Women who are politically ambitious are presented as less trustworthy. “Battlestar Galactica;” Fox’s “24;” CBS’ “Madam Secretary;” Fox 21’s “Homeland;” Netflix’s “House of Cards;” and HBO’s “Veep.” It may seem like a small point, but when showrunners want to
ous for the nation, and order is restored by a White male— “24’s” Jack Bauer and the male vice president in “Homeland.” HBO’s “Veep” takes the premise of a craven woman politician to an absurd extreme, with actress
Julia Louis-Dreyfus winning six consecutive Emmy Awards for her burlesque send-up of the familiar female trope. Interestingly, both “24” and “Homeland” have important connections to real-world presidential politics. Both series portray the first woman U.S. president as a veteran politician and middleaged White woman. They bear strong resemblances to the only woman who has been a majorparty presidential nominee: Hillary Clinton. Appearing in 2008 and 2017, respectively, the storylines were clearly planned to coincide with what could have been Clinton’s first term as U.S. president. Yet depictions in “24” and “Homeland” of fictional women presidents align with communication scholar Shawn J. ParryGiles’ findings that the media framed Clinton as inauthentic, Machiavellian, and ultimately, dangerous. That brings us back to our recent veepstakes. Criticisms of women vice presidential prospects echo cultural scripts that insist women who want to be president shouldn’t be trusted. Understanding the resistance to Harris—and Elizabeth Warren, Stacey Abrams and others who announce their eagerness to serve—requires recognizing the diverse forms that backlash against women’s political ambitions can take, which span
from calling a congresswoman a “f—— b—-” on the steps of the U.S. Capitol to portraying women presidents as Machiavellian on television dramas. Did pop culture cause those Biden funders to unsuccessfully try to undermine Harris? No. But the stories we tell ourselves on screen have taught us that women who actually want to be president can’t be trusted. That might be why people like Ambassador Susan Rice, who’s never run for office, and Congresswoman Karen Bass, who said she doesn’t want to run for president, landed on Biden’s short list to favorable coverage. “At every step in her political career,” The New York Times wrote of Bass, “the California congresswoman had to be coaxed to run for a higher office. Now she’s a top contender to be Joe Biden’s running mate.” Men who run for president typically have to demonstrate the requisite desire—the socalled “fire in the belly.” Bizarrely, women are supposed to act like they don’t even want it. Karrin Vasby Anderson is a professor of communication studies at Colorado State University. —This story was republished by permission from The Conversation.
‘Yusuf Hawkins: Storm Over Brooklyn’ Film Review: By Dwight Brown Decades ago, long before BLM protesters marched and chanted “George Floyd—I can’t breathe,” demonstrators shouted, “Yusuf. Yusuf. Yusuf. No justice, no peace!” Racially motivated crimes that ignite outrage have a long history. One of the most heinous felonies provides a back story to today’s struggles. On August 23, 1989, Yusuf Hawkins, a 16-year-old Brooklynite from East New York, traveled to the unfamiliar Brooklyn neighborhood of Bensonhurst with friends contemplating the purchase of a used 1982 Pontiac. Unbeknownst to him the largely Italian American community was hostile to Blacks. Some male teenagers misidentified him as an interloper there to meet a White homegirl, Gina Feliciano, and attend her birthday party. Gina’s acquaintance Keith Mondello, angered by the invi-
Filmmaker Muta’Ali Muhammad’s (“Life’s Essentials with Ruby Dee”) documentary focuses on a pivotal time in New York City’s history and includes an impressive set of interviews with many of those connected to the event, its consequences and Hawkins’ legacy. Footage is split
Yusuf Hawkins family photo between ’89-‘91 around the time of the murder and trial, and 30 years later when those involved reflect on their mission. The time capsule captures the height of the turbulent ’80s, from the dubious posturing of Mayor Ed Koch to the volatile
It’s like eyewitnessing a car crash, going into shock and living through the outcome. tation she supposedly extended to Blacks and Latinos, formed a mob equipped with baseball bats. They surrounded and attacked Hawkins and his buddies. Two gunshots rang out. Two bullets hit Hawkins in his chest just inches above his heart. It cost him his life. At the time, New Yorkers were weary and stressed by similar racially motivated deaths: MTA worker Willie Turks in Sheepshead Bay, Brooklyn in 1982; Michael Griffith in Howard Beach, Queens in ’86. Hawkins’ murder was a last straw. New York viewers who lived through this tragedy and its aftermath will have their memories refreshed by flashbacks of a divided city, a divisive mayor, an insular predominantly White neighborhood and a Black community in the hunt for answers and convictions. Those unfamiliar with the case will be shocked by the eerie similarities between protests of yesteryear and now.
atmosphere surrounding the Central Park jogger incident in April of 1989. NYC city is boiling over with Black vs. White tension. Add in four Black youths being victimized by a White mob in an outer borough, and the summer of ’89 was ripe for drama of Shakespearean proportions. Muta’Ali Muhammad’s approach to reconstructing the time and era is so thorough it makes up for his very traditional documentary style: New and old interviews, newspaper clippings, archival newsreels, family photos. Visually, his saving grace is a fairly eye-catching series of overhead shots of the Bensonhurst neighborhood, the corner where the murder took place and the Snack & Candy store involved. The effect looks either computer-generated or like aerial drone footage tricked out. Cars seem like toys driving around fake buildings. The arresting images become increasingly powerful as they are repeated, some-
times with red dots tracking the movement of the adversaries as they attack the unsuspecting victims. Equally impressive are the people who define their roles in Hawkins’ life, the incident and its aftermath. His mom Diane, brothers Amir and Freddy, sister and friends describe what it was like to be pulled into a firestorm, particularly as they marched through the riled enemy territory of Bensonhurst and were bombarded by racial slurs and death threats. The thin nattily dressed and astute Al Sharpton of 2020 compared to the overweight, showy and not always prudent Sharpton back in the day is a bit startling. Sharpton: “Every time a Black man comes to the bar of justice, there’s no justice.” Hearing from 90-year-old Mayor David Dinkins on how he handled NYC’s racial tension versus the very rambunctious Koch is enlightening. An interview with Russell Gibbons, a young Black man who lived in Bensonhurst and hung out with the White gang the night of the homicide, will surprise many. What’s it like to be in his shoes? Perhaps the most impressive persona is that of Hawkins’ father Moses Stewart. Only months before the incident, the estranged dad had reemerged. It’s as if fate sent Hawkins a guardian, not so much for his life, but for reparations. Hastily, Stewart transitions from a crestfallen father to an increasingly savvy activist learning how to work the press and give fiery speeches. If you’ve ever wondered how “everyday” people thrown into the midst of public tragedies compose themselves, adapt and navigate through media storms, Stewart is the archetype. Stewart: “You don’t know what you’ll do until something happens to you.” Which is why watching this film is so haunting. It’s like eyewitnessing a car crash, going into shock and living through the outcome. And if you are an African American viewer, some part of you has to acknowledge that the tempest that struck the Hawkins family could strike you, too. Just as it
did the families of Trayvon Martin, Eric Garner, and now George Floyd. Why did the NYPD ask the Hawkins family not to publicize their son’s death? How did Bensonhurst’s Mafia ecosystem influence an arrest? What hap-
him and those around him. His innocence and tragic murder made him a martyr who was eulogized at his funeral: “God takes the life of one who is pure to save those who are not pure.” For that to be true, lessons and principles have to be learned by those left
Mural dedicated to Yusuf Hawkins pened to Mondello, the batwielding mob and the killer? Who attempted to assassinate Sharpton? The film answers questions you couldn’t conceive. Hawkins walked into a nightmare. This is what happened to
behind. Has that happened?
they experienced but by their successful fight for justice. It’s a message that should encourage BLM activists. HBO premiered ‘Yusuf Hawkins: ‘Storm Over Brooklyn’ on August 12. It began streaming on HBO Max on
Photos courtesy of HBO August 13. Check your local listings for showtimes.
Thanks to Muta’Ali Muhammad’s thought-provoking Dwight Brown is an NNPA documentary, Hawkin’s fam- News Wire film critic. Find more of ily, friends and supporters are his work at DwightBrownInk.com no longer defined by the tragedy and BlackPressUSA.com.
