Courtney Walker is a journalism senior Send comments to: marrijain@aol.com A friend approached me about an argument he had with his parents. They were upset because he only dated African-American women, and they wanted him to find a nice Roman Catholic. I asked him if his parents had met any of his girlfriends before, and he said no. I suggested they should. If they haven’t met any young black women, then all they would have to go on is what they see on television. There is a reason why African-American women are thought of as either comedians, rump-shakers or gold diggers. It isn’t because they have spoken to me or the other intelligent African-American women on this campus. It is because of the way we are portrayed in the media. The media fuel stereotypes. I’ve never robbed anyone before, but women still clutch their purses when they see me coming. Why is that? Have they been robbed before? Was it by an African-American? Chances are, these presumptions exist because this is what they see of African-Americans on TV. There are many stereotypes the media helped endorse; the dumb jock and blonde being just a couple of them. If you watch prime-time television you will see no variety in programming. Most of it has to do with youngsters who go to all-white schools. You have your token ethnic person and your token fat person, but that’s basically it. Rarely do you see people of color or people who break the mold in a serious drama. The media also try to tell us who we are. This season, in order to be beautiful, you must be white, blonde, young and without an ounce of fat. You can’t tell me people don’t buy into this. If one more person asks me if they look fat, I’m just going to say yes. Dieting is in. Plastic surgery is in. Offer a free boob job and see how many people line up outside your door. What is sad is that people don’t realize these images are not real. Tyra Banks, without any makeup on, looks nothing like the glossy, blemish-free face that magazines would have you imagine. Julia Roberts has used a body double in the past. No matter how much you work out you will never have a body like Mariah Carey because the body that graces her album cover is an airbrushed version. The primary victims here are women. We are pushed to achieve an unattainable beauty, but we also must get married or suffer the “Ally McBeal” syndrome. Married women have a wonderful life on TV while the single women act insane. All they can think about is a man and what they must do to get one, suggesting to women everywhere that without a man, they are nothing. For television series involving single women, their biggest priority is to find a man. Men are judged by their occupation; women are judged on their marital status. On “Ally McBeal” we see Ally’s weekly quest for a man. She is intelligent, has a great job and wonderful friends, but her life is still incomplete. She apparently needs a man to validate her worth, and we feel sorry for her when she walks down the street all alone. No one should need a significant other to feel their life is worth something. Yet people, especially women, feel compelled to seek that. This is because everyday, when we turn on the television, there is someone onscreen telling us that we must have a boyfriend or a husband. Success is nothing without someone to share it with. We all know this ain’t right. Women need to open their eyes to the sarcastic slap in the face these programs are giving . Next time your favorite show comes on, watch it critically. See if you can find the secret messages it sends. You might have fallen victim to some of the messages. If this pisses you off — and it should — don’t buy into media images. The programmers are afraid to use “real” people in their shows. For some reason they think Americans want to watch programing where women and those of color are sorely underrepresented, the characters are unrealistically beautiful and live in a fantasy world. People would be better served by the media if the media used real-life images that everybody can relate to. Jason Williams is an English and pschology junior Send comments to: pennywise1979@hotmail.com The nation is frequently bathed in reports regarding the dire effects of the media: specifically the bad influence of television and film. If it isn’t some star-struck teen puking her way to a supermodel frame, it is some “super-smart” jock getting himself semi-flattened by laying on the median of a darkened two-lane highway — all in imitation of some film, or so they say. Incidents like these get a lot of hype, but amid all the finger-pointing, does anyone ever stop and wonder why, if the media is so powerful, are there not more cases of extreme behavior as a result? Where are the legions of imitators? They are not out there, which begs the question, why not more? Because there is more to the problem than irresponsibility in television and film. There is something more personal at work. It takes a “special” kind of person to starve oneself in the act of imitation. It’s simply easier to point the finger at “big media” than to stretch the wrist and extended finger at an individual. It’s time to start pointing. In explaining extreme behaviors, the “why” is never simple. If it walks like a duck, talks like a duck and looks like a duck — then it’s obviously a snake. Mob mentality always latches on to the simplest explanation. Why does an individual walk into his high school and shoot his fellow students? Obviously because he watched violent media and played violent video games. Wrong. Answers such as this do not even get credit for scratching the surface of “why.” Extreme behaviors are the expression of a culmination of events within an individual’s life. There is nothing simple about them. Media are generally a final straw, and it is this final straw that society always points to as the reason behind extreme behavior. Simply because an extreme behavior follows another does not signify causality. That poor girl. She forces herself to throw up after every meal. If there weren’t so many ultra-thin stars like Calista Flockhart, girls wouldn’t be forced to be so thin. Yes. Absolutely right — good work, detective. Or, maybe when this girl was 5, she heard her father comment, “Fat women make me sick.” And then at 8, she saw her brother and some friends tease an obese girl. Then at 14, her mother repeatedly discussed poor little Suzy down the street and how her mother shouldn’t let her eat so much. And on and on. All of these events weigh on an individual’s mind. When it comes time to make the choice, these are the events that help to push rationality aside. Weight is a choice. Viol
ence is a choice. When it comes down to it, it is the individual who makes the choice. It is a hit-and-miss game in trying to prescribe cause to an individual’s behavior. Society cannot look at a person and say why they are doing it . Now try explaining something as complex as an eating disorder, or mass murder in a person you have never met. This is where society gets into trouble, and where explanations, such as the media, are offered. No one knows wholly what motivates an individual into action. Doctors of psychology can make educated guesses to fill in the information gaps and compile a sketch of the possible motivation, but it is not a game of black and white, of definitives. So when these extreme behaviors are explained with such certainty by pointing a finger at the media, it is laughable. Make guesses all you like, but acknowledge that they are just that: guesses. Behavior is motivated by complex issues, by a series of events and experiences, and it’s unlikely that behaviors are motivated in singularity. Individuals should blame whomever or whatever makes them feel good — they are just filling space between this moment and the next extreme behavior that decorates the headlines. Sometimes we as a society have to stop our quest for answers and explanations — even in the face of tragic events. It is not always necessary to have a scapegoat. Stick your accusatory finger somewhere else, sit down, and be content with the explanation: s**t happens.