This political drama mirrors the historical and contemporary erasure of Black women’s political labor.
When advance photos of the Mrs. America cast were released last August, excitement spread throughout the internet. Dahvi Waller’s political drama on the 1970s Equal Rights Amendment (ERA) debate would star Uzo Aduba as Shirley Chisholm, the trailblazing Black congresswoman from Brooklyn, New York. ‘Fighting Shirley’ would be a central figure in a highly anticipated limited series, a first for the trailblazing Black feminist politician of Caribbean heritage whose tenure in Congress undeniably disrupted the federal government.
The series’ debut couldn’t be more timely, as recent conversation around the ERA has been gaining traction: the proposed amendment, which would guarantee the equal rights of all citizens of the United States regardless of sex, may be closer to being added to the Constitution, pending a federal court ruling in a lawsuit filed by the Attorneys General of Virginia, Illinois, and Nevada.
Chisholm makes her first (brief) appearance during the Mrs. America premiere while giving an interview on the ERA on the Hill. The show’s protagonist Phyllis Schlafly (played by Cate Blanchett) walks past Shirley, pausing only for a moment to listen and glance with contempt, before rushing towards a meeting in the Capitol Building. Though implicit, the quick moment is a harbinger: it will soon become evident that the stories of Chisholm and other prominent Black women political figures will serve as mere secondary plot points throughout the series.
To be clear, casting Uzo Aduba as Shirley Chisholm–and Niecy Nash as Florynce Kennedy, Bria Henderson as Margaret Sloan-Hunter, and Melissa Joyner as Audrey Rowe–is Black Girl Magic personified. That magic is further amplified by a production crew that includes directors Amma Asante and Janicza Bravo, and producer/writer Tanya Barfield. Episode 3, entitled “Shirley,” is directed by Asante written by Barfield, and captures the intensity of Chisholm’s run for president in 1972–and the failure of white feminist allies to support her campaign in the interest of “electability.” The next episode, “Betty” (also directed by Asante,) gives a glimpse into the origins of the National Black Feminist Organization, founded by Florynce Kennedy and Margaret Sloan-Hunter.
Without having yet seen (and highly anticipating) Janicza Bravo’s artistic vision for Episode 8 of the series, Asante and Barfield’s work on “Shirley” showed such a thoughtfulness and intentionality in the development of the plots and characters of the series while still centering Chisholm, Kennedy, and Sloan-Hunter. It is the inconsistency in that thoughtfulness and integrity in telling Black women’s stories–Audrey Rowe most prominently–that takes away from the series, in content and context.
The work of Black women cast and crew members are deeply necessary and appreciated, bringing us moments of pride, joy, and sadness as we watch Chisholm, Rowe, Kennedy, and Sloan-Hunter enter, navigate, and transform the terrain of U.S. politics. And still, there is a disappointment in the continued relegation of Black women to the footnotes of U.S. history and merely recurring appearances in television productions.
Margaret Sloan-Hunter’s story is much more than her workplace trials and her handling of the passive-aggressive racism of her white women coworkers at Ms. Magazine. Instead, I would have loved to see Hunter, an editor at the publication, announce the formation of the National Black Feminist Organization alongside congresswoman Eleanor Holmes Norton. Or see her speak on race, gender, and sexuality solo and alongside Gloria Steinem. Viewers’ introduction to Shirley Chisholm should not have come from Phyllis Schlafly’s periphery as she pumped towards Capital Hill to meet with the Old Boys Club of the Nation’s Capital.
Photo: Bettye Lane
While Mrs. America is sure to depict Bella Abzug as a key feminist advocate in the House of Representative during the fight for the ERA, the political genius (in rhetoric and action) of Chisholm is nearly absent. As is that of Florynce Kennedy, whose catalytic collaboration with Margaret Sloan-Hunter pushed forward the Black feminist political agenda. Similarly, the emphasis on Jill Ruckelshaus’ feminist legislative activism comes at the expense of Audrey Rowe, a Black feminist Republican who was as elected national chair of the National Women’s Political Caucus in 1975. Rowe, like her contemporaries, was at the front line, a fact that wouldn’t be known to viewers as Rowe literally follows behind Jill throughout the series.
With the series winding down, there is still much anticipation around the “Houston” episode (directed by Bravo) which will focus on the historic 1977 Women’s Conference in Houston. While the show’s intrigue is undeniable, it is clear that Mrs. America’s representation of Black women’s political labor and influence is hollow and exemplifies the need for more intentional and thoughtful representation and inclusion in mainstream media.
Representation without the saturation of Black women’s voices and stories in Mrs. America leaves us in need of more context and content and an incomplete story of women’s political activism and advocacy in the United States.
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Nana Brantuo is an educator, policy strategist, and scholar. She can be found on Medium, Instagram, and Twitter.
