The Mandatory Excellence of Young Black Hollywood ⎮ Blue Soup Blog

When I first started thinking about the concept for this blogpost, I fell into the trap that I would soon learn every interviewer that comes into contact with these amazing young people falls into. I was reading an article in the magazine Hunger about Yara Shahidi. Even though Yara Shahidi has always struck me as genuine, I caught myself feeling as if her “persona” was this kind of carefully curated tactic to get ahead. Even though I really admire Yara, that image of this curated personality stuck in the back of my head and I started to notice the same association with various other young black stars. I remember watching an interview with Caleb McLaughlin from Stranger Things and noticing that, unlike his white costars, he refused to even say the word “hell” and generally kept an appearance of innocence and youth. It was not that Caleb seemed to be attempting to come off as younger— he answered questions maturely and showed his love and dedication to the craft of acting. Rather, he seemed to want to stay at the exact age he was, not falling into either trap of infantilization or adultification. Now this seemed like a trend. I wanted to know more. After days of research on any and all young black actors I could think of (I left out musicians because, really, that would just be too much), I realized that I came into this from the completely wrong point of view: that of celebrity. These famous young people were exceptional. They were smart, knew how to present themselves in interviews, seemed completely dedicated to both their craft and uplifting other young people in the industry. However, this was not some sort of elaborately fabricated personality thought of by their parents and an expensive PR team. Rather, this was something that I was all too familiar with from my own experiences in both academic and professional spaces: the pressure for black excellence. Many of you might be familiar with the idea that people of color, queer people, women, and other groups often having to work twice as hard and be three times as good to get to the same place as their straight, white, and male counterparts. In all honesty, I don’t think this idea is applied as well towards young people; however, through this research, I have found that the rise in young black stars is a perfect place from which to explore this topic. So, that is the lens through which I am going to approach this blogpost as I go through the varied and diverse voices of young black people in Hollywood. In the video that I will post later this week, I will be focusing more on media coverage and treatment of these stars and how that plays into the pressures to be excellent but, for now, I am going to focus on the specificities of these stars and how they create space within an industry that either tokenizes them or attempts to erase them altogether.

Family, Religion, and Morality as a Means of Survival

The stars that I researched for this post ranged in age from around nine to just over twenty-two. A lot of things separated and differentiated these stars by age, however, one thing that unequivocally united them, regardless of background, was family. At the younger side, this came in the form of social media disclaimers ensuring followers that the star’s profile was “monitored by mom.” In a particularly cute interview with Lonnie Chavis— who plays the young version of Sterling K. Brown’s Randall on This is Us— Lonnie tells Steve Harvey about his parents involvement in managing his social media presence. Outside of This is Us, Lonnie is best known for his video addressing online bullying. When asked about how he reacts to negative comments generally, Lonnie says that his parents usually delete bad comments before he sees them but on one occasion they decided to show him a bad comment, prompting him to make his video on bullying. It’s an adorable story in general, Lonnie has this sense of morality that seems both youthful and well thought out. But how his relationship with social media is managed by his parents also says something about how aware black parents are to how their kids exist in this environment. I, of course, can’t know exactly how Lonnie’s parents raise him but it seems to me that they, and many other parents of these young black stars, deviate from the stereotype of the fame hungry parent forcing their kid into the spotlight. In so many of these cases, there is a dedicated and deliberate effort to instill a sense of morality, groundedness, and respect.

In the same interview, Lonnie is asked about girls (in typical uncle Steve Harvey fashion). After laughing and telling Steve that his mother checks his DMs (“make sure her baby ok”) and claiming he is a “lone wolf,” Lonnie makes sure to tell Steve that he “can’t do nothing till [he’s] married.” The audience laughs as Steve responds, “who told you that, your mama?” Though Lonnie doesn’t expressly mention religion here, it’s clear that his instilled morality comes from a stress on religion in his family. This is not at all unusual with young black stars. In many cases, stress on family and dedication to religion come hand in hand, further ensuring a strong sense of self and direction that so many interviewers seem to find so shocking.

Saniyya Sidney of Fences and Hidden Figures sums up a sentiment that is often echoed throughout young black Hollywood: “My home is full of love. Our family is extremely close. We support each other’s dreams and believe that it is important to let each other know that we care. With that love and support, you also are expected to give 100% in everything you do. Whatever gift you have been given by God is a gift that can’t be wasted.”

Similarly, in an interview for Refinery 29, Storm Reid talks a bit about her relationship to her family and morals:

“I think I’m very strategic in my career,” she says. “I’m a purpose-driven person, and in everything that I do, if it doesn’t match up with my morals and my values my mom taught me, then it’s not something that I want to be a part of. She’s the best mom and my best friend. My older sister, my mom, and I, we call ourselves ‘Three the Hard Way,’ because it’s been us since the beginning, and it’s just the three of us now.”

Storm’s upbringing shows through her thoughtfulness and respect for elders. In interviews, she consistently refers to her older costars and mentors (including Ava Duvernay and Oprah) as “Ms. and Mr.” As someone whose father insists that I call adults by their last name no matter the situation, this rings particularly true to a black upbringing. Storm is definitely not the only young black star who does this. Eris Baker of This is Us refers to her onscreen father as “Mr. Sterling K. Brown” and in a fun interview with Caleb McLaughlin and two of his young costars (Noah Schnapp and Sadie Sink), Caleb deviates from Noah and Sadie in referring to Sean Levy as “Mr. Sean.” After asking the interviewer his name, to which the interviewer simply replies “Steve,” Caleb immediately replies by calling him “Mr. Steve.” 

Yara Shahidi and her mother for Glamour

As these stars get older (which is usually where things get a bit more complicated) their parents get less and less control over how they move through the world, let alone their social media presence. However, when watching interviews, reading articles, and scrolling through social media, it becomes clear that the connection to family does not fade as these young black stars get older. At the other side of the age spectrum (and really spread out all through the middle), dedication to family comes through by way of enthusiastic and constant praise of the parents and a stressing of morals in line with Storm Reid’s quote about her mother and sister. Yara is a great example of this familial closeness. Her instagram is flooded with loving pictures and captions of family vacations and events and her mother often accompanies her on interviews. In the article I read in Hunger, Yara’s relationship with her mother is portrayed as almost business-like. Her mother chimes in or reminds her of a funny anecdote that could be used as a response to a question. In the context of Hollywood and the perpetual downfall and abuse of child stars, Yara’s mother’s involvement could come through as controlling or overprotective. However, if you see their relationship through a familial lens— as Yara herself stresses often— the perception of overprotectiveness seems ridiculous and fades into an intimate and trusting relationship that Yara counts on for support, love and grounding and which ultimately expands to how she functions within Hollywood.

As much as the personalities, goals and career paths of all these stars vary, the way that their family and parents support and influence their career varies as well. For example, Jaden and Willow Smith have a particularly telling family story. Of course, as two of many celebrity children who have become artists and celebrities themselves, they move through Hollywood with a built-in connection to celebrity and their privilege in that regard certainly shows. However, Willow and Jaden have much in common with young black stars without hugely famous parents and much of how they exist as young black people in the industry hinges on their upbringing. Unlike many children of celebrities who get annoyed when people constantly bring up their famous parent, Willow and Jaden seem all too happy to praise them and how they grew up. Both Will and Jada Pinkett-Smith have stressed the importance of supporting their children, and though I believe Jaden and Willow have a heightened allowance for mistakes because of their parents, much of their willingness to think about their actions and how they function as black youth in Hollywood has to do with the importance of family in their childhood.

In an interview in which the interviewer mentions that her parents are “always near-by,” Marsai Martin simply replies, “they have to be.” This simple statement hits the mark in how family relates to these instances of “black excellence.” When we think of child stars, the narrative often plays out as a rise to fame, a dramatic downfall, then an inspiring resurgence. Like all black girls and boys, if young black stars fall, it is unlikely they would be able to get up again. So, they do not fall. In order to survive as a young black star in Hollywood— and furthermore exist under the constant pressure of black excellence— family (and the strong moral compass that seems to come with family) becomes essential.

Black Expression, Activism and Radical Support

Part of the reason I wanted to focus on black youth in Hollywood specifically (besides the fact that this is a blog about pop culture lol) was that the intersection between expression, professionalism, and existing as a young black person takes on such a uniquely concentrated form in industry spaces. Some may argue that young Hollywood does not represent the full impact that young people are having in politics, culture, and change. Why am I only writing about Storm Reid and Jaden Smith and not about Mari Copeny and Naomi Wadler? Well, let me just say that I would absolutely love to write about Mari Copeny and Naomi Wadler. However, I find their position in culture quite different from the actors, musicians, and artists that saturate our screens and devices. This definitely has something to do with how much we elevate the voices celebrity; however, I think it also has something to do with their connection to artistic practice. Acting is a job for these young people, but for most it is also a means of expression and the connection between blackness and artistic expression has always been essential in one way or another. Of course, for the bulk of the existence of movies and television black people have been excluded from the mainstream. But that is changing, and the presence of black youth in Hollywood allows for these voices to be heard. And as a few voices start to rise, they start to amplify other voices. And as the community grows, there is no way to ignore the specific issues and systemic problems facing that community.

Something I find particularly interesting is how these young kids find ways to express themselves within such a white space. Two of the most important ways that is achieved are through dance and fashion. At least six of the people in my list of Hollywood black youth are on their way (or already there) to being unequivocal fashion icons. Amandla Stenberg is taking strides in gender non-conforming fashion and Zendaya is one of the mainstays of the MET Gala along with Beyonce, Solange, and Rihanna. As for dance, if you want to experience black joy in the purest form, just take a look at the instagrams of Yara Shahidi, Storm Reid, or Lonnie Chavis where they all consistently post videos of them dancing on set, at home, or with friends.

Of course, there will always be backlash: Jaden and Willow Smith are often thought of as kind of shallowly weird or alternative. However, it seems as though artistic expression is a (relatively) “safe” means of existing and thriving as black youth. When Zendaya wore faux locs to the oscars and Giuilana Rancic said she looked like she “smells like patchouli,” hoards of people came to Zendaya’s defense because 1. clearly racist and 2. IT WAS A LOOK.

If you look at the more “alternative” (i.e. artistic, talented, and often queer) young black stars such as the Smiths, Ashton Sanders, Amandla Stenberg, and a plethora of musical artists I haven’t mentioned in this post, it seems almost as if blackness becomes more acceptable when filed under the category of “art.” Clearly this is a case of people loving black culture but not black people; however, through that art, young black people are able to express more radical issues— whether or not a mainstream white audience picks up on the resistance. Amandla might be seen as ‘alternative’ to some, but her attention to picking roles that focus on blackness and activism (yikes @ When Hands Touch, not quite sure what happened there) contextualizes her alternativeness within a framework of intelligence backed by citations of lauded black activists and historical figures.

Of course, having a deeply intelligent approach to activism and social change doesn’t hurt either. Many, if not all, of these young black stars have expressed at least a passing diligence towards political activism. That activism is expressed through social media, protesting, organizing, and speaking (support Jaden Smith’s Just Water!!) and one of the most fascinating and important parts of their activism is that, often, it is expressed as a simple part of life. None of these young people are asking to be applauded for their work in political activism— many of them even reject the label of activist altogether, arguing that, though they are dedicated to change, they are not at the front lines. But they know they have a platform and using their platform to speak about social justice is a natural part of having that platform in the first place.

“We grew up underneath Obama, and that afforded us the ability to approach the world with so much optimism, and I think that optimism is what fueled me being vocal about so many things that I cared about at first ... And then, after Trump was elected, I went through a period of disillusionment where I felt powerless and I didn’t understand how I could continue to use my platform under this current administration. Now, I’m realizing that the most powerful thing you can do is be yourself and express joy and incite joy in others, so I feel more compelled than ever to do that.”

There is so much I can talk about surrounding black youth in Hollywood (trust me, I have the notes) but if I kept going this may end up being longer than my thesis and I am definitely already pushing it so let me just end with a quote from Amandla Stenberg that I think sums it up pretty well:

“We grew up underneath Obama, and that afforded us the ability to approach the world with so much optimism, and I think that optimism is what fueled me being vocal about so many things that I cared about at first … And then, after Trump was elected, I went through a period of disillusionment where I felt powerless and I didn’t understand how I could continue to use my platform under this current administration. Now, I’m realizing that the most powerful thing you can do is be yourself and express joy and incite joy in others, so I feel more compelled than ever to do that.”

What lies underneath this perfectly constructed quote is that yes, Amandla and her peers are excellent. But they are not excellent because you said they should be and they are not excellent in the way you want them to be. They are excellent because they exist as they are and because they are dedicated to opening doors for those who do not have the privilege or means to be excellent.

Excellence should not be a requirement to survive and thrive as a black person in this country, but if we need to get there, we will get there… and we’ll bring our cousins with us.

Thanks so much for reading. Make sure to watch the video portion of this essay where I will be talking about media reactions to black youth in Hollywood (see: “Oh my god, how are you so smart!!!!).

See you soon,

Sofia

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