Box Me In, Scottie

Just finished watching the first episode of Sex and the City on HBO ON Demand. You gotta love syndication at your command.

Anyway, I remembered how good this show is. You really can't get the full effect from reruns on Kron 4 or TBS; you need all the nitty gritty, uncensored details to get the real feel of the show, and HBO provides it in a way that only HBO can. Episode one, "Sex and the City", introduces the four women that we come to know and love, as they discuss the topic of sexual relationships between men and women. Carrie then decides to explore the idea of women having sex like men - simply, unattached, illicit sex - for an article in her column. In the meantime, cynical Miranda hooks up with Skipper the hopeless romantic, Charlotte gets dumped after what she thought was a spectacular evening because her date really needed to have sex that night, and so made his way to Club Choas where he found and hooked up with Samantha. We already know Samantha's game plan, and after "Mr. Big" rejects her offer to take a look at secret parts of the club to which she has access because of her business in PR, Charlotte's date is a more than welcome option. Finally, Carrie can't get a cab, but is fortunate enough to have been found (or followed - I haven't decided yet) by Mr. Big's car, and he offers her a ride home after telling her that her problem stems from the fact that she's never been in love.

Oh please. We know what that turns into six seasons later. But I thought about it for a moment, pondering the situation from a black perspective. Historically, black women didn't have the option for such an open range of sexual identities; neither did white women for that matter. Instead of four, there were two: the Mammy and the Jezebel. One was a sly, predetory nympho (which I hope you know only applies to women by definition...) the other was a de-sexed mothering machine. However, from yesterday's girl gab bash - and from general common sense - I know that these stereotypes couldn't be further from the truth.

I think all women, many at least, go through stages of Miranda, Carrie, Charlotte and Samantha. It's like trying on different hairstyles. Just about every female friend I know has cut her hair almost boy short at some point, and just about every one of them has rocked a weave as well. This is true because the person within us all is ever changing. There may be times when women can, without remorse, go out and sex like man without attachments. There are times when the same women may want to settle down for the rest of their lives. One period of time may last longer than others, and so forth. But the idea that black women are either baby makin' machines or sex-driven demons is a tad bit much. I believe some exist, but for the most part we're somewhere in between. Pay no attention to the "booty-booty-butt-cheek"-like videos.

This Black History Month: FLEX stereotypes.