Held in contempt: Racial stereotypes go on ‘Trial’

Erin Washington

The tagline for Karani M. Leslie’s “The Trial of One Short-Sighted Black Woman vs. Mammy Louise and Safreeta Mae” poses the question: “What if two negative black images were jailed forever?” Audience members themselves must serve as the jury in Leslie’s play, the latest production by Roxbury Crossroads Theatre.

The story unfolds as a courtroom drama pitting modern black businesswoman Victoria Dryer (Kortney Adams) against two stereotypes of black women from a fictional film set on a plantation in 1823: the mammy and the sexualized “Jezebel,” in this case known as Safreeta Mae. Dryer accuses these icons of holding her back in life, preventing her from being the proud black woman and self-confident human being she should be. If these two images are the only representations of black women in the media, she argues, then other people will see all black women as fitting into these two categories.

This is not a new subject. Lisa M. Anderson wrote about three negative stereotypes of black women in her 1997 book, “Mammies No More: The Changing Image of Black Women on Stage and Screen.” She described and dissected the mammy, the Jezebel (stemming from the Old Testament) and the tragic mulatta, explaining that sometimes the latter two are combined into one character.

“The racial stratification of the United States ensures that there are many communities in this country whose only exposure to black people is through the media. … The stage or screen image stands for black women in a way the token blacks in the office, or down the street, cannot,” Anderson wrote.

In “The Trial,” Dryer and her attorney (Valerie Lee) want to have the images of Mammy Louise (Valencia Hughes-Imani) and Safreeta Mae (Anich D’Jae) banned from all remakes of films. The defense claims that this is not a viable request, as these two icons are actually victims. The prosecution then proceeds to describe the negative images of the defendants: Mammy’s three conditions are that she is a slave, that she loves being a slave, and that she would do anything for her master, whom she loves. Safreeta Mae is a highly sexualized seductress, portrayed as loose and immoral, who loves only white men, especially her master. She is accused of willfully enticing him sexually.

The court then brings these stereotypes into the present day. They refuse to accept the eye-rolling, finger-snapping, hand-on-hip, head-shaking image of a modern angry black woman. Dryer complains that she tries to read novels and see films about black women, but she just can’t relate, perhaps because this picture is often painted.

The portrayal of black women as maids and social servants is sadly all too common in the media, a fact that movie studio executive Clyde Evans (Jeff Gills) suggests stems from consumers’ interests — as he says, the entertainment industry’s job is to “give the people what they want.” While some women in reality have these subservient roles, in many ways they still have to be strong individuals.

Evans’ statement underscores the questions truly at the heart of “The Trial”: Are these two icons — and the real black women they represent — to blame? Or are they victims of a culture?

This is a culture in which many black women have to bring up their children alone, and in which black men are an endangered species. A culture that emphasizes and praises the hip hop lifestyle: expensive things and sexy women as objects of desire to obtain. Even pop culture, which caters to youth of all races, teaches young girls that wearing sexy clothing — or rather, not wearing much at all — is the way to get respect.

These images infiltrate the media because of such “ill-informed” executives as Evans, argues Mammy Louise and Safreeta Mae’s defense attorney (Marvelyn McFarlane). She goes on to say, “That’s very dangerous when you have the power to create images.” Evans responds that the media is often to blame for issues of social injustice. The truth is likely somewhere in the middle: It is the media that perpetuates the images, but it is the masses that absorb and accept them.

This does not mean that all references and depictions of slaves, mammies, Jezebels or other negative icons need to be erased from history. The problem is the point of view from which the story is told. We are supposed to learn from our past, and so we need to keep these records, whether fictitious or biographical, as teaching tools.

One character in “The Trial,” portraying a black film executive, is told that he doesn’t “owe anybody anything,” that he should work hard and not “carry the weight of the entire race on [his] shoulders.”

But, the defense interjects, people have given their lives so that he can have the position he has, so that he doesn’t have to sit at the back of the bus. One must find a balance: A black person does not have to assimilate into a supposedly “white” way of life in order to make a decent living.

The arguments are laid out, the cases are made: What’s your verdict?

“The Trial” is playing through June 9 at the BCA Plaza Theatre at Boston Center for the Arts. Tickets are available through Boston Theatre Scene by calling 617-933-8600 or by visiting www.bostontheatrescene.com.