It’s a sitcom, but Blackish isn’t afraid to delve into serious topics, like their recent episode highlighting #BlackLivesMatter. In the parents we see a somewhat egalitarian marriage, with both partners working outside the home and fulfilling in-home duties. You’ve got three generations living together, two highly educated parents navigating their marriage, and four kids growing up in the twenty-first century. You don’t have to be Black to get the jokes, or love the family dynamic. Yes, it’s a show with a Black cast, showing a Black family, but the story is universal, which is a mark of its genius. When I asked my colleague why she loved the show so much, she responded, “It’s so realistic and relatable, especially the interactions between the husband and wife.”Īll this time, I’ve looked at Blackish as a “Black show” but it’s so much more than that. I was shocked, because said colleague is White, and honestly it hadn’t even occurred to me that non-Black people would enjoy the show. She gushed about how much she and her husband loved it, and she proclaimed it to be the best show on TV. I was having a chat with a colleague over coffee, when she leaned over and asked me if I watch Blackish. Like Rainbow and Dre, I’m a college-educated Black American, and I straddle two worlds 24/7. Blackish has been exceptionally accurate, as it depicts the life of a Black family in the twenty-first century.
I grew up with Kool-aid and collard greens, getting whoopings (not spankings), and causing a ruckus with my three siblings. I’ve been the only Black person in too many offices, and lived through the awkward conversations with coworkers, and the moments when you’re expected to speak for All Black People on some subject. I laughed and nodded along because I shared the same experiences. I quickly banished my worries that the first episode was a fluke designed to reel me in. Each episode of Blackish is centered on some aspect of the American family in the twenty-first century, whether it’s helping their teenager choose a college, or Dre struggling in the office.Īfter that first episode, I made sure that I was home every Wednesday night to catch Blackish. Zoe and Junior, the teenagers, are the classic cool kid/nerd kid dichotomy, while Jack and Diane serve as comedic relief, with Diane’s sharp wit and Jack’s adorable cluelessness. Ruby is that familiar Black mama who loves Jesus and collard greens, while Pops doles out advice on raising the kids which generally involves some type of punishment. Bow is the child of interracial parents, and she tends to skew towards the hippy end of the spectrum. Dre grew up in the hood with divorced parents, and now he’s a successful VP and able to give his children all the things he didn’t have as a child. Dre and Bow (as the parents are affectionately called) are both educated professionals, working as a marketing VP and doctor, respectively.
The focus of Blackish is the Johnson family-parents Andre and Rainbow their four children, teens Zoe and Andre Jr., and fraternal twins Jack and Diane plus Andre’s divorced parents Pops and Ruby.
Not only did it get me, but it realistically portrayed my experience. Why? Because for the first time, a show actually got me. From the start of the show, I found myself nodding along and shouting “yes!” to the screen. I couldn’t get to Tweetdeck fast enough to comment. As the buzz grew, I decided to give the premiere a shot.īefore the opening credits even rolled, Blackish had me hooked. I didn’t want to see yet another sitcom that presented a caricature of Black life to the masses. Traditional networks don’t have a strong track record of embracing diversity, and the title was, well, kinda problematic for me. When I heard ABC greenlit a show titled Blackish, I cringed inside.