Our household was super-excited for Molly of Denali to premiere last week.
In plenty of ways, it’s a typical kids’ TV show. Molly Mabray is 10 years old and spends her days learning, doing outdoor activities, and hanging with friends. Like most preteens, she enjoys technology and her smartphone, but also makes time to read a book from time to time.
But one aspect of her identity had us particularly stoked: Molly of Denali is the first nationwide children’s TV series to star an Alaska Native as the lead character.
We’ve been watching the preview clips for months, and the wait felt like forever. By the time we got to watch the first episode, we’d already memorized half of the theme song.
I couldn’t believe my son would be able to grow up watching indigenous characters on TV. For the first 24 years of my life, all I had access to was the Disney film Pocahontas.
Although all of the United States was stolen from its original inhabitants, our home in the Midwest has particularly strong ties to Native American heritage. When we first moved here, I was shocked to find out we were really close to a reservation. As a Texas migrant and the daughter of an avid Western movie watcher, I grew up idolizing Native American culture but severely unaware of the full spectrum of injustices (other than the underacknowledged Trail of Tears) they have suffered and continue to experience.
I saw Molly as an opportunity to expose my son to dynamic characters of color. Shockingly, that’s a lot harder to do in general than it sounds.
Through the years I’ve been let down by continually missed opportunities for accurate media portrayals of characters of color. As a black woman, I find the examples that are meant to reflect me frustrating. Too often our identities are based on stereotypes and oversimplifications, or we’re just one-dimensional supporting characters.
As a mother, I’m even further frustrated with how these barriers will impact the resources I have available to educate my son about other cultures. I don’t want him to grow up in a world that uplifts whiteness as the standard: I want him to understand that we all have a claim to this world.
Above all else, it’s important that I teach him that false media portrayals aren’t representative of who he’s allowed to be in life. As our infant grows, we’ll work on teaching her the same lessons as well. But it’s easier to raise children with cultural awareness when they have access to quality representation.
We’ve already seen what happens to youth who are negatively impacted by subliminal media messages: One example is the infamous doll test. In that study, baby dolls were used to assess the impact of racial segregation on children. The researchers found that the participating children had been socialized to associate the white doll with more positive qualities and the dark doll with negative qualities. Perhaps the most heartbreaking finding was that the black kids shared this perception, along with the awareness that they were most similar to the darker doll.
There have been a number of campaigns to encourage self-love for children of color since then. But we’ve got a long way to go, as it’s still a challenge for kids of color to access nonwhite media examples.
We know that we all benefit from exposure to a wide range of cultures. Diversity education promotes problem-solving, decreases the chances of bullying, and increases the empathy children feel for folks who have been othered. TV is a great way to introduce early lessons of diversity.
But truth be told, it's really hard to find quality TV in general. A lot of what’s on the screen is mind-numbing, plotless, consumerist crap.
I remember having access to a roster of wholesome shows as a child. So instead of taking the time to test out the long list of trash on TV (aside from PBS), I’m taking my son back to the classics of my youth, such as Reading Rainbow, Gullah Gullah Island, Between the Lions, and Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood. I’m amazed at how much he’s learning from the shows that I grew up on, and I’m grateful to have access to the shows that helped shape me into the person I am today.
However, I know that’s just a short-term fix. I can’t avoid the challenge of testing out new shows forever. And depending on what happens with our government over the next year, there may come a day that PBS doesn’t exist.
I have so many questions swirling around in my head, but two stand out above the rest: What happens when the funding is cut for PBS and similar channels? And how will I find shows with a diverse portrayal of black and brown people, even as conservatives are challenging almost everything I see as valuable?
I firmly believe that all children deserve access to free, high-quality children’s shows with characters that reflect them. I get anxious imagining a world where the old resources no longer exist.
For now, our house will continue to watch PBS. I’m also doing my best to reach a position that enables me to regularly contribute to PBS.
Until then, we’ll be on our couch watching TV, excitedly cheering for the small wins represented by characters like Molly of Denali. I hope and pray it won’t be the last.
A. Rochaun Meadows-Fernandez is a diversity content specialist whose work can be read in The Washington Post, InStyle, The Guardian, and other places. Follow her on Facebook and Twitter.
This post was written through our Daily Kos freelance program.