Teaching Backgrounder
Behind the Times: Minorities on TV
TV is still black and white when it comes to portraying minorities. A recent study found that the number of Latinos in prime time television has dropped from three percent in 1955 to 1 percent in 1992, even though the population has grown to about ten percent. The few roles there are haven't evolved much since the days of Frito Bandito. "I'm tired of reading for drug dealer parts," says actor Tony Plana, who also plays lots of Latin American dictators. The picture's even worse on Saturday mornings, when a child will watch an average of 123 characters -- but see a Hispanic maybe once every other weekend. And Children Now's survey found that only three percent of the child characters seen on TV are Latino. "When it comes to minorities on TV, the record is appalling," observes ABC News anchor Carole Simpson.
The number of African Americans on TV has increased substantially, but prime time may be one of the most segregated places in America, with most shows cast in all black or all white. "I have a better chance of living near Peter Tortorici (president of CBS Entertainment) in real life than I do on TV," says noted writer and producer Ralph Farquhar, an African-American. Many black actors are still confined to comedies. "There's a singularity of images of blacks being happy-go-lucky buffoons," Farquhar says. Since ethnic comedies like Amos n' Andy first aired in the 1950's, Hollywood has tended to turn the real issues and concerns of minorities into humorous plot lines and ethnic characters into caricatures, raising the question of whether these shows ultimately attack or reinforce stereotypes and prejudices. "It's time to change the formula ... with a dose of reality," Farquhar says. And yet when Farquhar tried to do just that last year with a black drama called South Central, he was told the show "wasn't funny enough."
But life isn't always funny. And TV's picture of the world may be affecting kids in ways Nielsen ratings can't measure. Minority kids tend to be the heaviest viewers of TV -- Children Now's survey found that 80 percent of black youngsters had their own TV in their bedroom, compared to 51 percent of whites. TV often fails to provide it's most loyal fans with role models. Actor Plana notes that in some communities the dropout rate among Latinos is up 50 percent, and blames television in part for not offering them other roles to aspire to. "TV gives our kids no role models and a very narrow sense of possibility for themselves in mainstream society," he says. TV is failing white kids, too. Little on screen will prepare them for the diverse world into which they are growing. Study after study shows that TV can be a powerful tool in teaching tolerance and understanding, but, all too often, it doesn't take advantage of that opportunity.
The networks and other programmers have made some significant changes. The number of African American roles -- as doctors, lawyers, judges, and police lieutenants -- has risen dramatically. Many of the negative stereotypes, including roles that Tony Plana is sick of having, have been eradicated. But for the most part, nothing has replaced them -- leaving Latinos with virtually no presence on TV and minority kids with almost nobody to identify with on Saturday mornings. And, interestingly enough, when the networks do launch ethnic shows, they often receive criticism instead of acclaim. ABC Entertainment President Ted Harbert championed All American Girl, the first Asian comedy, last summer -- and was stunned when it was promptly attacked for everything from the actors not being Korean to the Grandma's stereotypical behavior carrying around a pot of squid. "At least we tried," Harbert said. More progress is needed, however. And that clearly requires getting even more minorities behind the screen - writing, producing, and directing - as well as on the screen.
Writen by Shawn Doherty and Nadine Joseph.
Reproduced from a report on the 1995 conference on Children and the Media, sponsored by Children Now, cosponsored by Stanford University and the UCLA Center for Communication Policy. Reprinted with permission from Children Now.