If you've delved deep into the Netflix pit, never to return, then it's likely you're well-acquainted with the basics of its original series "Orange is the New Black." You know, timid, entitled, white, bisexual female ends up in jail and befriends (loosely) the local prison population, a majority of whom are from minority groups and have rich backgrounds and robust personalities. Now, the show lends itself to highlighting the problems surrounding systematic racial oppression and the judicial system. And while the premise is to raise awareness about racial and judicial injustices, recent decisions by the show's writers have sparked heavy controversy on what the show's motives are actually accomplishing.
Warning: spoilers ahead. I’ve given you fair notice. If you don’t want spoilers, abort mission. I repeat: abort mission.
Just a few weeks ago, "OITNB" returned for its fourth season on the small screen (read: your television or computer, most likely). Avid watchers began their ritual binge on the series, many watching back-to-back episodes well into the night. To the displeasure of an incredibly vocal subset of fans, viewers were left shocked by the untimely death of a widely beloved character, who, as you may have guessed, belonged to a racial minority. Thus, the season’s ending lit a fire under the already existing discourse: is mere minority representation enough?
Yes, the character’s death put the reality of police brutality in perspective for those who may not be aware of its gravity, which is a necessary tactic. The unjust death of a character the public has grown to love raises an enormous red flag on racial discrimination and violence. Minorities watching the show, however, are already aware of the issues they themselves are facing. It’s a harsh reality that individuals, Black Americans especially, are grappling with on a daily basis. And seeing something that they truly fear will happen to them every day happen to one of their favorite characters, a welcomed source of positive representation, is a bit of a slap in the face.
Representation in and of itself is technically considered a step in the right direction, given how long it took for ethnic minorities, the LGBTQ+ community, or those with disabilities to even see themselves in forms of mainstream entertainment. However, examining how these minority groups are presented—and their fates—paints a bigger, more vital picture.
The seemingly unending show "Pretty Little Liars" was the target of similar backlash, most specifically in the middle of its sixth season when the enigmatic “A” was finally revealed as Charlotte DiLaurentis (spoiler: “A” is still about 87 different people basically). The villain was revealed to be the show’s only transgender character and died only a couple of episodes later. Before leaping for joy at the fact that the perpetrator was killed, look at the logistics of all the decisions surrounding this climactic reveal.
Seeing “justice” served is not the major issue here. At the most basic level, a character committed a heinous crime and was convicted of those crimes. The issue then lies in the decision to make this particular character trans, no matter how necessary the show’s writers deemed it for the storyline. Making the only trans character, and one of the representatives of the LGBTQ+ community, the villain plays into an archaic and completely inaccurate stereotype of trans individuals being evil and mentally disturbed. Of course, similar to the aforementioned "OITNB" character, Charlotte was also killed off the show. Though this character was not exactly beloved, the death comes too soon after the trans reveal and before any sort of proper character development can take place. To make matters worse, Charlotte was not the only LGBTQ+ female to be murdered on the show, as Maya St. Germain and Shana Fring were also killed.
The list of television characters from minority groups who are facing the same fate is larger than you might think; and decisions like these from television writers don’t push the real-life progress of these groups any further. How can progression occur if the characters are dead? Rather, these occurrences tend to multiply, leading to widely recognized and ultimately disappointing tropes (i.e. “Bury Your Gays” and “The Black Man Always Dies”). The Washington Post put together a video of 10 Lesbian characters that have already been killed off television shows in 2016; and a list from Autostraddle includes over 150 lesbian and bisexual characters that have been killed off since the 70s, many of whom died violently or whose death was not truly necessary to the plot.
Despite the fact that "OITNB," "PLL" and other popular television shows are rooted in fiction, they reflect real people and real issues. Entertainment media normalizes types of people, concepts, ideas and actions because of its reach and exposure. We quickly become expectant of certain stereotypes and outcomes based on what happens on the screen in front of us. Now, an increasing number of outlets have normalized the issue minorities face. However, they have also normalized the portrayal of some minorities in a bad light or even their murder in the process. While seeing the issues addressed at all puts us one step further, normalizing the deaths of these characters takes us a few steps back. Are we meant to start expecting these deaths in real life? If you keep up with the news, you’ll know these tragic, unnecessary murders are already happening daily.
The triumphs of minority groups, their optimal endings, and their overall character development still have a long way to go in terms of normalization. There has been some conversation as to whether or not this is the result of an overwhelming lack of writers in elevated positions who are part of these minority groups. It’s one thing to diversify who is on camera, but diversifying who is off camera (and in positions where their decisions hold weight) is necessary for the accurate portrayal and treatment of a show’s minority characters.
Yes, any person can die on television shows. Whether it’s a real life actor moving on and the show has to adjust or whether it’s deemed a crucial point in the written story, it happens. However, consistently writing ethnic minorities, LGBTQ+ individuals and other underrepresented people as the ones to die sends an alarming message to the general public. In continuing the move toward equality, it’s imperative that minority groups, especially the younger generation, see the positive aspects of their identity highlighted just as much as the harsh realities they face. Their struggles should never be silenced in favor of pretend positivity, but the fates of these characters shouldn't end in death as often as they do.
Representation is a step. Continued meaningful representation is a bigger step. And all I’m saying is that I hope I see a socially anxious, bisexual, new female character on television kicking butt and taking names with a devoted partner, a family and 5 dogs very soon.
