Sorry, but you all look alike

My name isn’t Jabari. It’s Parker. And Ahbleza. And Lorenza. And Sonny. And Andrae. And Hashim. These are some of my closest friends, and in many ways, we are all one in the same.

I don’t mean that in a loving “we’re all united” way, I mean that I’ve been called all of their names and they mine on more than one occasion. Why? Because we look alike. Yep. My friend who is three shades lighter than me and has braids that reach his shoulders looks just like me. My brother who weighs 100 pounds fewer than me and who couldn’t grow a beard to save his life, is my identical twin! I’ve had so many non-black friends, teachers, and colleagues call me the other black guy’s name that I’ve lost count. Instead of getting angry, I most feign utter disgust and ask whoever has made the mistake if all black people look alike. The guilt and shame on their faces makes up for any hurt feelings. But in all seriousness, do we all look alike? If not, then someone needs to inform about 90% of all comic book artists.

A black superhero seems to have only a few default looks:

The Sam Jackson: Bald with a Goatee

Perfected by Marvel’s Luke Cage, the Sam Jackson is the style for the brotha that don’t take no m*****f*****g mess! This look shouts street cred, and gives the wearer a sense of ruggedness.

 

 

 

 

The Paul Robeson: Mid/Close Cut

Otherwise known as the regular, the Paul Robeson is the look for a more educated black man. Regal and distinguished, this is the style for the book-learnin’ brotha. Hey, if it’s good enough for the King of Wakanda, and the Third Smartest Man in the World, then it’s good enough for you!

 

 

 

And finally…

The Locks

The Locks give any black superhero the third, and longer, option. This look says “I’m young, I’m hip and, just like my white counterpart, I can put my hair in a ponytail.”

 

 

 

Almost every black superhero has gone through one of these phases; some have even gone through all three. I’m not asking for black superheroes to be given blonde hair or anything, I’m just asking for a greater degree of variety. Can we at least get a Jerry Curl?

When the Mind Wanders…It Wonders

I’m in my room. I can’t sleep, so I’m just looking around the room. I have three five-level bookshelves and on four-level bookshelf in my room. Two are filled with comic book trade paperback divided by the publication, then divided even more so by their titles, then divided more so by their part in the comic canon. On the bottom of the shelves are my issues that I’ve collected from flea markets and comic shops wrapped in protective plastic. On top of the shelves are my toys  action figures collectibles divided by character and publication and so on. My other bookshelves are just books put in alphabetical order and separated into two groups: fiction and nonfiction.

I’m not sure what makes me feel more embarrassed and ashamed: the fact that I in less than six months, I will be twenty five years old and a high school teacher responsible for the academic livelihood of minors and I have more comics than classics, or the fact that collection of comics and toys  action figures collectibles isn’t nearly as massive as I thought it would be by age 24. Somewhere in the past, there is 14 year old me shaking his head in disappointment.

Anyway, I’m looking around my room, and I notice a Mr. Terrific collectible my friend gave me for Christmas. I start to think. In most comics that focus on superhero teams, there is an initial page that shows the reader the roster of the team. There’s often a picture with a quick bit on information about the character. Batman: The World’s Greatest Detective. Green Lantern: Wielder of the Most Power Weapon in the Universe. Flash: The Fastest Man Alive.

You know what Mr. Terrific’s slogan is? Mr. Terrific: The Third Smartest Man in the World. Third! I’ve done my research, and I can’t find any hero in the DC universe who definitively has the epithet of The Second Smartest Man in the World, not to mention the smartest. What message do I hear when I think about Mr. Terrific’s byname? “We have no idea who the smartest man in the world is—Hell, we don’t even know who is in second place; what we do know is that whoever these two brilliant people are, Mr. Terrific is by no means smarter than them.” Wow. Looks like Wonder Woman’s jet isn’t the only thing that’s invisible….get it? Invisible? Can’t see it? Glass ceiling? Unnecessary limitations placed on people of color? All that from starting at a bookshelf.

Non-White=Non-Human

A few years ago when Iron Man 2 was in theatres, a friend of mine shared a link to a story that argued that James Rhodes aka War Machine is the ideal black super hero. In the article, writer Graeme McMillan explains how War Machine exhibits so many stereotypes that he is the epitome of the exploited superhero of color. So that got me thinking.

The edgy non-white character isn’t exactly a new idea in entertainment, especially in film, on television, and in literature. The black man is almost always edgy and anti-social, the Latino is always hot blooded or seductive, and the Asian is always the epitome of peace and calmness…unless he’s an angry samurai. Again, this is nothing new. But when we look at comics, there is another trend being used on minority characters. A surprisingly large number of heroes of color are being depicted as not entirely human. Don’t get me wrong, nobody is writing or drawing these characters as stereotypical savages; however, a number of minority superheroes are shown as not 100% human.

Some are shown as half human/half robot. Used mostly for black males, this trope can be seen in such characters as the Avengers’ War Machine, Cyborg of the Teen Titans, and the JLA member Steel. Unlike their white counterparts like Iron Man, and Batman—who are known for their use of advanced technology and suits of armor—these black heroes often struggle with maintaining their human personalities. All three of the heroes have had recent story arcs in which they battled their robotic halves in a fight over their humanity and sanity. Iron Man doesn’t deal with this much trouble with the Extremis virus.

Other characters are shown as being half animal or monster. JLA members Vixen, Pantha, and Wildebeest all have the ability to adapt the physical appearances and abilities of animals. In fact, both Pantha and Wildebeest are always depicted as humanoids, and Vixen always has long canine teeth or claws. Speaking of teeth, there is the vampire hunter Blade. Because he is half human/half vampire, he is known as the day-walking half-breed who has the ability to live like a human.

 

 

I’m not sure what is going on here—truth be told, I’m not sure if anything is going on—but this trend caught my attention. It is too easy to point out how having a black speedster, or Native American magic user is problematic;however, the absence of the blatant doesn’t necessarily mean there aren’t any questionable practices being used.

Truth in the Courtroom

What’s in a name? Apparently, if you’re Black Vulcan, the answer is everything.

What the esteemed Attorney Harvey Birdman shows us in this clip is the issue of assimilation versus isolation among characters of color played out in a name. For most superheroes of color, the first mark of their ethnicity comes in their real name or their codename. It makes sense that minority characters have birth names that reflect their heritage; in fact, this isn’t exclusive to people of color. The X-Men’s Ireland-born Banshee is named Sean Cassidy, and the Russian mutant Colossus is named Piotr Rasputin, so why not have a Latino hero names Maya Lopez? The problem arises, however, when minority codenames go beyond a celebration of a character’s culture, and start relying on stereotypes and lazy antiquated formulas.

For African-American superheroes, and their creators, finding a way to emphasize the color of their skin was easy: put black in their name. As if the color of their skin didn’t show it enough, these heroes’ codenames became giant sandwich boards that shouted “Look at me! I’m not white!” Here are just a few heroes whose codename is a product of this tired trope:

Black Eagle, Black Lightning, Black Panther, Blackwing, Black Vulcan, Black Racer, Black Spider, Black Samson, Black Goliath, Black Hood, Black Musketeers, Black Badge, Black Rapier, Black Manta

This is just a few. And that’s not including heroes who had the word “black” in their subtitles, like “The Black Green Lantern,” or “The Black Superman”.

While the aim to call attention to these characters is noble, the overuse of the word “black” in code names has led to a different kind of assimilation and blending. But African-American superheroes aren’t the only one who had to sacrifice a little dignity for acknowledgement.

Enter the Super Friends!

In the 1970s DC Comics introduced a more diverse group of superheroes with the aim of sending a message of inclusion and acceptance. If we only take into consideration the fact that there were more non-white characters on television and in comics, then DC achieved their goal and then some. But if you think about the characters themselves…uh…well, let’s rundown the additions to the roster:

You’ve already met Black Vulcan, the electricity-based superhero with black skin, a black name, and a black costume. But what about his friends?

Meet Apache Chief. Presumably an Apache (it is never confirmed), this loincloth-clad stoic crime fighter has the power to grow as tall as a building by simply crossing his arms, and shouting “Eh-neeek-chock!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

El Dorado, the Mexican superhero with Aztec origins. While El Dorado has super strength, teleportation, and telepathy, he is more commonly known for swapping out English prepositions and phrases for their Spanish counterparts.

And then there is Toshio Eto, also known as Samurai. Like El Dorado, Eto uses Japanese phrases during conversation. Plus he has a samurai sword, and is often accompanied by Japanese woodwinds and gong crashes whenever he appears on the show.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Could Black Vulcan simply be called Super Volt? Could El Dorado be Mind Master? Could Samurai at least not get the gong treatment? Who knows? In the end, these characters epitomize both success and failure regarding heroes of color. We call know their ethnicity, but we have no idea who they are and what they do.

The Compromise of Color

Arguably more than any other community depicted within comics, characters of color struggle most with the issue of balancing between isolation and exploitation. While the female and LGBT communities fight for proper acknowledgement, no other group has had their hand forced like people of color. The sheer quantity and frequency with which racial stereotypes were used in comics made it virtually impossible for creators to shift the paradigm to a celebration of diversity; instead, they had to rely on a white washing of all characters of color in hopes of developing the narrative that “we are all equal” and—to a lesser extent—all the same.

As a result of this problematic, but well-intentioned, goal, the angry rebellious black man, mysterious Asian, fiery Latino, and silent Native American were not replaced by positive diverse predictions, rather, they were exchanged for palate-swaps of their white counterpart. This historical white washing came in the form drawing every character, regardless of their document ethnicity, with European features—thin lips, light brown eyes, broad nose, and fine hair texture. Additionally, the visible argument for assimilation was proliferated by often surrounding characters of color with white teammates. Whether it is Mr. Terrific being the only black member of the Justice Society of America, Kato being tethered to The Green Hornet, or The Black Panther teaming up exclusively with the Fantastic Four, the agency of superheroes of color was legitimized only by their close association with white teammates.

Fortunately, over the years, creators have abandoned this strategy for the more progressive practice of giving characters of color prominent leadership positions on superhero teams, or giving them their own comic series. But as depictions transition from offensive and/or minimalist to relevant and respectable, the question turns to one of priority. That is to say, should a character’s ethnicity be an integral part of their being? Is it possible, responsible, productive, or right to make no references to an Asian or Latino character’s culture? Historically, characters of color and their development were associated primarily with their race. Some heroes acknowledge their ethnicity in their code name while others remind readers of their race and culture through catch phrases and vernacular (Eh-neek-chock!), and regardless of the intention of the creators, this tactic relies on the use of racial stereotypes.

But what is the alternative? Much like the one-dimensional depiction of LGBT characters, the use of antiquated characterization, however problematic, allows for easy recognition and guaranteed acknowledgment of a character’s race; to give that up seems a bit dangerous as to pursue the alternative is to revert back to assimilation. As a result of such unsavory options, most creators elect to choose the lesser of two evils, ensuring recognition at the cost of the most respectable depictions. For all minority communities depicted in comics, the name of the game is painful compromise; the only hope is that future creators can develop more full and round characters without depending on harmful tropes.