BBC drama I May Destroy You focuses on black protagonist Arabella (Michaela Coel), as she struggles to come to terms with her own sexual assault. The programme confronts conceptions of gender, sex and consent, and couples these ideas with perceived prejudices about race, as the majority of the cast is black. Arabella’s memory about her own sexual assault is hazy, and so the series focuses on how she deals with what she knows, and how she deals with what she does not know.

The story is a sensitive one and probably would not work so well with audiences if the lead character was not in some way relatable and likeable. Arabella herself is very vulnerable following her assault and directly opposes the ‘strong black woman trope,’ which is often portrayed in the media. This is in no way a bad thing, as it would be unrealistic to believe that any woman would be able to fully cope with such a traumatic event so soon after the trauma. The ‘strong black woman trope’ is just another entry in the long list of on-screen stereotypes that have been assigned to black women over the decades.

One of the first on-screen stereotypes of black women was the character of the Mammy, a nurturing, smiling black maid who enjoyed serving white people. Hattie McDaniel’s portrayal of Mammy in 1939’s Gone with the Wind is often cited as the most iconic and recognised ‘Mammy’ role, for which she became the first black woman to win an Oscar. In the 1970s, the black woman evolved into the ‘Jezebel.’ Black women were portrayed as sexually insatiable and animalistic, as a way to justify the sexual abuse that they endured during and after slavery. Films such as Coffy and Cleopatra Jones, both released in 1973, adhered to this trope. In later decades, the ‘Sapphire’ or ‘Angry Black Woman’ emerged, a figure that was emasculating to male characters and encapsulated society’s fear of the anger of black women. In response to these stereotypes, the ‘strong black woman’ was born.

Melissa V. Harris Perry notes that the ‘Strong Black Woman’ stereotype was created by black women in order to escape their previous depictions. The character is a natural nurturer, is selfless and has a no-nonsense attitude. She has a strong moral compass and exerts a superhuman emotional strength that those around her do not possess. Such a figure of unbending strength is a difficult one to live up to and is ultimately unrealistic. Those around black women expect them to mirror the tropes that they see on screen, creating an unfair cycle of expectation. Marverine Cole notes that, although strength is a positive trait, it has forced a particular image upon black women, resulting in a harmful ‘pressure to live up to that trope.’

The trope has also been adapted more recently but in a negative way. The black woman’s strength is adapted and used to support the endeavours of the white protagonists, such as Whoopi Goldberg’s Oda Mae Brown in the 1990 film Ghost and Gina Torres’ Jessica Pearson in Suits. This encourages audiences to praise the strong black woman for her acts, and how she behaves, not for her own character and personality.

There have been some recent changes, however. Throughout the 2007 series of Doctor Who, Martha Jones, (Freema Agyeman) used her strength to support herself, her family and the Doctor (David Tennant). At the end of the series, Martha goes on an independent mission to save the world, while the Doctor is incarcerated by an arch-nemesis. After succeeding in this event, Martha leaves the Doctor to finish her medical degree, and because her romantic feelings for him are unreciprocated. Although the latter plot thread is criticised, Martha does subvert the ‘strong black woman’ trope, as she exercises strength, independence and vulnerability in equal measure.

Another positive example is Olivia Pope (Kerry Washington) in the TV series Scandal. Washington portrayed the first black lead on a network drama in 40 years, and initially appeared as the ‘strong black woman.’ As the series went on, her affair with the president and continuous mistakes created a figure of moral ambiguity, one that subverts the aforementioned trope. She became a messy, flawed antihero, a role that is usually afforded to Caucasian men, in shows such as Breaking Bad.

Black Panther, 2018, goes further, by showing black women in all positions of power, as a queen and as a soldier to name a couple. The film showed the full potential of the black woman, freeing them of all stereotypes that have gone before.

It was clear from the off that I May Destroy You was going to be different, as in the first episode Arabella drinks to the idea of ‘women with anxiety.’ This in itself recognises that not all women have the enduring strength that the ‘strong black woman’ has, and that they should not have to. By showing Arabella as a vulnerable victim of sexual assault, but also as a resilient survivor, there is a greater variety of representation for black women that does not adhere to one, harmful trope. It is important that black women, and all women in general, are able to see accurate representations of themselves on screen, to let them know that being vulnerable is ok, and is part of being human.

Check out more TV articles here:

Little Britain and White Chicks: Understanding Racial Prejudices in Media

Streaming Shows that Matter: Netflix and Black Lives Matter

Editors Picks: Our Favourite Comfort TV