On Joking About Race Without Being Racist

My “white girl talkin’ about racism” tag has had plenty of use in 2012, and it’s still only January. Between 2 Broke Girls and “Shit White Girls Say to Black Girls,” I’m running into a lot of commentary and outrage about how white people should totally be allowed to make fun of people of color, and telling people that they’re making racist jokes is censorship. I’ve also been accused of playing the role of White Savior and treating people of color with kid gloves.

First of all, it’s not censorship. This is censorship. It’s been defeated for now, but we should all keep following news updates for when Congress eventually tries to put through a different version of the bill. CONSTANT VIGILANCE! – as Mad-Eye Moody would say.

Secondly, I don’t talk about racism and stereotypes because I think black people need a White Savior to rescue them from the perils of racism. As a white person, I’m never going to understand racism the same way a person of color would, much like a man is not going to understand institutionalized sexism the same way a woman would, the way an able-bodied person will never understand what it’s like to have to use a wheelchair (and so on, and so on, and so on). I add my voice to the mix on the issue of racism because I believe that it’s important to be an ally, and every little bit helps.

Thirdly, there’s the issue of “kid gloves” and giving people of color “special treatment” in terms of comedy.

I think that making racist jokes that rely on stereotypes is morally questionable, not to mention creatively bankrupt. When people whine about not being able to make fun of certain groups of people, I wonder, “Why do you want to?”

BUT – and this is an important difference – I do think all individuals – every single person in the world, living or dead – is fair game for comedy.

I also think there’s an important difference between racist humor and racial-based humor. The first kind reinforces stereotypes, while the second lampoons and criticizes stereotypes while also being funny.

I have a lot of praise for Community and one of the reasons I love the show is because it has several characters of color who are just as well-developed and funny as the white characters, but the first show that really made me start thinking about race and its role in comedy was Scrubs.

Scrubs had a main cast of 7 actors, two of whom (Donald Faison and Judy Reyes) are people of color. One of the show’s central relationships is between J.D. (Zach Braff) and Turk (Donald Faison).

The relationship between J.D. and Turk on Scrubs is longstanding and complex. J.D. is white and Turk is black and when the show begins, they have been best friends for eight years – starting as college roommates, going to the same medical school, and interning at the same hospital. They became close because they’re both very silly and playful and they bond over old sitcoms. They love each other and their friendship transcends racial barriers – but that doesn’t mean that race never comes up between them.

The racial dynamics between J.D. and Turk are pretty interesting. J.D. is a white guy with a black best friend. He doesn’t have a black best friend because he’s trying to win political correctness points; he adores Turk. But he does assume that, because he has a black best friends, he can break certain “rules.” He’s “allowed” to make black jokes or hold certain stereotypes. He seems genuinely confused when other black people who aren’t his best friend don’t appreciate his attempts to “act black,” as evidenced by the scene where he, Turk, and Carla go to an African-American nightclub:

Turk himself has a variety of reactions to J.D.’s assumptions. He loves J.D.’s nickname of “Chocolate Bear” (and refers to him as “Vanilla Bear” in return). He initially doesn’t like J.D.’s new nickname of “Black Whale” but comes around within a few minutes’ time. On other occasions, Turk responds with a mix of weariness, acceptance, and amusement at J.D.’s stereotyping and desire to “fit in” with black people:

But there are other occasions where even Turk reaches his limits. In one episode, J.D. makes a racist joke, and Turk tells him, “You know, you only get one more black joke this month before I bust your ass.” J.D. says, “Dammit. I used ’em all up watching Barbershop 9.” Turk: “That’s it, and I’m gonna get you later.” It was such an interesting layer in their relationship, showing that J.D. often makes black jokes, and Turk usually lets them slide because of their friendship, but even he has his limits and will call out J.D. when J.D. crosses a line.

Then again, why does Turk give J.D. any leeway at all? Because of another interesting wrinkle in their friendship. J.D. is insecure about being a nerdy, goofy boy and sees Turk as being the much cooler friend. Turk understands this, and he knows that J.D. likes making black jokes or “acting black” because he associates being black with being hip and cool. J.D. makes black jokes not because he’s trying to be “edgy” but because he wants to be one of the cool kids.

One of the best episodes that dealt with racial issues was “My Fifteen Minutes,” where J.D. and Turk work together to save a television cameraman, but Turk is the only one who gets any publicity from it because the hospital wants to use him as a token: he represents the hospital’s diversity. Turk then has to explain to J.D. about his personal history of being used as a token, with some pretty funny results:

It always slays me to see the cover of the college brochure where Turk is used twice – or the flashback to little Turk getting first prize in the science fair even though he didn’t enter.

The relationship between Turk and J.D. is strong and loving but they hit speed bumps along the way because sometimes, J.D. just doesn’t get it. He’s never going to understand what it’s like to be black because he’s never going to be black.

But that doesn’t mean Turk is the all-wise and knowledgeable person who is an expert on racism. In fact, Turk has been racist himself on several different occasions.

In one episode, Turk was jealous of his colleague Bonnie, an Asian woman who was a more skilled surgeon than he was. When the attending surgeon selected Bonnie to help him assist in a surgery, Turk asked, “Ever notice how you’re both Asian?” They give him the stink-eye, and later on, Turk apologizes to his boss “and the entire Asian community.” Unimpressed, his boss replies, “I’ll pass it along at the next big meeting.”

Turk is also sometimes racially insensitive about his own wife. He loves and respects Carla very much but describes her ethnicity as falling under the general “Latina” definition – and when he tries to talk about her ethnicity, he often gets it wrong. It took him six seasons to finally get it through his head that his wife was Dominican, not Puerto Rican:

He’s not the Magical Negro who knows how to cure all of society’s ills, nor is he the Token Black Character who exists only to make the show more diverse. Turk is a complex character with flaws, motivations, imperfections, and conflicts of his own. Scrubs explored his issues with race and racism, showing him in both the victim and perpetrator roles.

In other words, the writers did an excellent job of making jokes about race without being racist.