The Model Minority in the Zombie Apocalypse: Asian-American Manhood on AMC’s The Walking Dead HELEN K

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The Model Minority in the Zombie Apocalypse: Asian-American Manhood on AMC’s The Walking Dead HELEN K. HO ROBERT KIRKMAN, THE WALKING Dead (TWD) has become a television phenomenon on the cable network AMC, with ratings reaching record highs for both broadcast and network dramas. Season three of TWD garnered over 9.5 million viewers, and the fall 2012 season premier drew in the biggest adult viewing audience (ages eighteen to forty-nine) out of all entertainment series, including broadcast shows (Hibberd, “‘Walking Dead’ premier”). TWD’s zombie invasion narrative presents viewers with versions of masculinity that succeed or fail in a society struggling to survive. The character Glenn Rhee (Steven Yeun) offers viewers a heroic vision of Asian-American masculinity rarely before seen on television, enabled in part by the series’ focus on social and racial relations restructured in a postapocalyptic scenario. With a dedicated and growing fan base, TWD features a multicultural ensemble cast in what Kirkman describes as an attempt to “accurately portray the world as it is, i.e., not all white” (Saria). Yet, despite Kirkman’s attempts to diversify his cast of characters, critics of the television show expressed concern over the virtual disappearance of two of its minority characters from storylines in the second season (Christian). Additionally, analyses of TWD have focused particularly on character Rick Grimes’s lead role as father, protector, leader, and failed hero. As Glenn Rhee, Steven Yeun joins the ranks of John Cho (Selfie and FlashForward), Masi Oka (Hawaii Five-0 and Heroes), Daniel Dae Kim (Hawaii Five-0 and Lost), Archie Kao (Chi- B ASED ON A COMIC SERIES BY The Journal of Popular Culture, Vol. 49, No. 1, 2016 © 2016 Wiley Periodicals, Inc. 57 58 Helen K. Ho cago P.D. and CSI), and others, as a prominent Asian-American male character on a popular ensemble television show. Despite the presence of Asian-American males on television, however, little has been done to analyze the ways in which they are presented in the context of shows’ predominantly white, male lead characters. Focusing on the narratives of masculinity in TWD, I argue that Glenn’s status and survival as a minority character is attributable to model minority characteristics typically applied to Asian Americans. This is found not only in the narrative structure of the show, but also in AMC-sponsored texts and actor interviews. Model minority qualities make Glenn valuable to a fledgling society, enabling him to quietly assimilate and support the efforts of his peers. As the show’s white hero falters, Glenn can become a hero in his own right, flourishing alongside the white Western figure. Ultimately, TWD’s postracial landscape challenges the bootstrap mentality of perseverance and traditional masculinity that persists under the structure of white patriarchy. Without this structure, the model minority narrative is given room to change and insert itself into a larger framework of masculinity writ large. Understanding the Apocalypse Numerous contemporary texts have presented viewers with apocalyptic scenarios (to name a few: 28 Days Later, Dawn of the Dead, Planet Terror, Zombieland, Warm Bodies, and World War Z). In conjunction, scholars have interpreted these apocalyptic fictions as metaphors for American anxieties over potential catastrophes, ranging from viral pandemics to global warming to alienation in consumer society, with anxieties reflected in and toward the zombie horde (Hamilton 47– 48). As Kyle William Bishop notes, “The generic conventions of. . .the zombie drama in particular make it the most likely and appropriate vehicle with which to explore America’s post-9/11 cultural consciousness” (11). Zombies themselves have been interpreted in numerous ways: for example, as psychoanalytical analog (Webb and Byrnand 85–89); as opportunity to reflect upon contemporary anxieties of civilization and humanity, as well as the limitations of social structures and patriarchy (Chromik-Krzykawska 74; Feshami 298; Moraru 106–07); as capitalist analog (Webb and Byrnand 89– The Model Minority in the Zombie Apocalypse 59 92); and as an opportunity to critique mindless desires driven by the forces of global production and consumption (Hall 13; Lauro and Embry 97–101). The zombie figure is a disruptive one, challenging notions of personhood and humanity: Martina Baldwin and Mark McCarthy write that zombies have the potential to “destabilize notions of gender, class, race, and normative power relations” (75), as survivors are forced to “make choices that test their previous constructions of what it means to be human” (Balaji xi). Indeed, Kirkman himself has told readers of The Walking Dead comic that “good zombie movies show us how messed up we are, they make us question our station in society. . .and our society’s station in the world” (qtd. in Canavan 434–35). With zombie television, viewers are given a vicarious opportunity to see the benefits and limitations of existing social structures and hierarchies. Zombie narratives thus offer a unique lens through which to investigate our current social structures and relations: wholly nested within existing structural frameworks of race/gender/class, viewers are given the opportunity to watch survivors on screen who test, challenge, or dismantle those frameworks as they establish a new social order (Balaji xi). John Berger explains that apocalyptic narratives present an image of the future to reflect on the past: “We must be in both places at once, imagining the postapocalyptic world and then paradoxically ‘remembering’ the world as it was” (6). As such, apocalypse narratives are unique in their ability to critique our existing understandings of society (Berger 7). The challenges for TWD’s ensemble give viewers the possibility to investigate and question the overarching influence of white patriarchy on racial and gendered identities. Understanding Asian American Representations The history of Asian-American portrayals in America has been fraught with stereotypes. Early depictions of Asians on US screens used white actors in yellowface to portray Asians as generalized foreigners from the Orient (see Huang 197–204; R. Lee 2–3; Moon 114–18; Shimakawa 17–18). Asian-American men still face contemporary difficulties in gaining screen time, even in stories about Asian 60 Helen K. Ho Americans.1 Representations of Asian-American men are bimodal at best: they are either fresh-off-the-boat gangsters or helpful model minorities. Fresh-off-the-boat characters, an example of which can most recently be seen in Han Lee (Matthew Moy) from CBS’ Two Broke Girls (2011-present), perpetuate an image of Asian-American masculinity as “forever foreign” (Tuan 19). These characters are unassimilable due to physical difference (racial phenotype, small stature, and clothing), social awkwardness, and accented speech. The model minority, on the other hand, is assimilated as a subservient sidekick to traditionally white heroes. Both of these character types have long been influenced by America’s racial framework, which has situated Asian Americans on a continuum of threateningly unassimilable to meekly assimilated (Okihiro). This continuum shapes Asian-American identity in contrast to whiteness. The “forever foreign” Asian American is linked to the yellow peril, seen in cunning, deviant and alien cultural figures like “the insidious” Dr. Fu Manchu (Huang 281). The model minority stereotype serves to highlight how “Asian Americans are continually perceived as eccentric.. [and as] inhumanly productive” in comparison to other minorities (Eng and Han 271). If the insidious Fu Manchu embodies the yellow peril, Asian-American detective Charlie Chan, who “gains membership within the American community, despite racism, through quiet, faithful servitude,” embodies the model minority (Okihiro 144; see also Huang 279–81). As the yellow peril, Fu Manchu is deviant, his body clad in robes and accentuated by clawed hands; as a model minority, Charlie Chan’s sharp mind is obsequious to the point of childishness, his body and difference neatly contained in Western suits (Huang 118, 281). Both character types also have female counterparts on the representational continuum, with Fu Manchu as the male equivalent of the “dragon lady,” and Chan as the male equivalent of the submissive “lotus blossom” (Okihiro 144). This representational framework inevitably influences understandings and interpretations of Asian-American masculinity. Frank Chin and Jeffrey Paul Chan write, “the white stereotype of the Asian is unique in that it is the only racial stereotype completely devoid of manhood” (qtd. in D. Kim 129). While the Asian villain is constructed as monstrous the model minority stereotype has been continuously endowed with “timidity, docility and childishness,” The Model Minority in the Zombie Apocalypse 61 both formulations respond to “a paternalistic white racial imaginary” that positions white masculinity as the norm for sexual desirability, power and dominance (D. Kim 132–37). The yellow peril figure is mitigated by the model minority figure; both, as extremes, challenge white characters and justify repression, feminization, or violence in order to maintain white supremacy (Huang 144; Okihiro 141–43). Contemporary television is still structured to support white male narratives, with Asian Americans serving other characters’ interests as sidekicks, professional consultants, and/or scientific specialists who are technologically savvy, educated, work well under the purview of lead (white) characters, and speak unaccented English. Consistently, Asian-American men are commonly denied the sexuality and masculine virility afforded to white males on screen. If presented as sexual, Asian-American men are seen in the comfort and safety of same-race couplings2 or with other minorities;3 they are rarely seen with white women.4 The Walking Dead offers a unique performance of Asian-American masculinity rarely seen on network or cable television. The show presents an Asian-American man as a “nonfeminized” model minority figure in a romantic relationship with a white woman. While the series is still producing episodes, the narrative from seasons one to three suggests several readings of Glenn Rhee as an Asian-American character: first, that Glenn’s position as a valued member of the group is in part due to model minority attributes of being efficient, loyal, and strategic; second, that Glenn’s transformation into a postapocalyptic hero is made possible due to the flawed masculinity of the group’s white “cowboys”; and third, that Glenn’s evolution into a valued male member within the survivor group is perhaps only possible on a television series that touts a postracial philosophy. The Model Minority in the Zombie Apocalypse Hailed as an “apocalyptic zombie drama” set in Georgia (Hibberd, “AMC adds producer”), TWD’s first season finds deputy sheriff Rick Grimes (Andrew Lincoln) waking up from a coma to find himself in a world overrun with zombies. Searching for help, Rick heads into Atlanta where he meets Glenn and a group of survivors. Rick joins their camp on the outskirts of the city, where he is reunited with his 62 Helen K. Ho wife Lori, young son Carl, and his coworker Shane. After zombies overrun their camp, Rick leads the remaining survivors to the Center for Disease Control (CDC), then on to Fort Benning, only to find these outposts abandoned or overrun. Season two is situated on a country farmstead protected by aging veterinarian Hershel and his remaining family, who agree to provide the group with safe harbor and medical attention. At the farm, Glenn meets and falls in love with Hershel’s daughter Maggie. The end of season two sees the demise of the farm at the hands of a zombie herd and the beginning of season three finds the remaining survivors setting up camp within the safety of a prison, down the road from a militarized town led by a maniacal man dubbed “The Governor.” Throughout the seasons, Rick finds his leadership and strategies continually tested while life continues (and ends) for his group of survivors: Lori gives birth to a child; Carl reaches adolescence and questions Rick’s qualities as father and leader; Glenn proposes to Maggie. Berger notes that “one of the defining features of American postapocalyptic narratives is the fascination with and authority vested in the survivor figure” (47). The show’s narrative structure certainly places Rick at the center of attention as protector and progenitor. As an iconic representative of the state in his deputy sheriff’s uniform, Rick finds other survivors turning to him for justice and punishment. It is up to him to (re)enforce norms and values, made clear early in season one when he confronts Merle Dixon, a racist southerner who refuses to cooperate with the “taco-benders” and “niggers” of the group. Overpowering Merle, Rick explains: “Things are different now. There are no “niggers” anymore; no dumb-as-shit-inbred-whitetrash-fools, neither. Only white meat and dark meat. There’s us, and the dead. We survive this by pulling together, not apart” (“Guts”). The confrontation thus sets the foundation for the survivors’ new social community. As Rick clarifies for the viewers and the survivors witnessing this altercation, the postapocalypse is postracial. According to Cynthia Miller, zombie-infested Georgia becomes a proving ground for Rick’s cowboy masculinity; he negotiates a wasteland where “Western narratives of good versus evil [are] replaced by those of the living versus the undead” (4). In TWD, humans must set aside their preapocalypse differences to “pull together” and assimilate into a survivor mentality, particularly when an absolutely inassimilable and threatening race of zombies must be held at bay. The Model Minority in the Zombie Apocalypse 63 While the human survivors do pull together, racial and gender hierarchies are still at work in TWD. The women at the survivor camp undertake the domestic chores of cooking, tidying, and washing while the men hunt, patrol, and conduct missions for supplies. At first, the social order is life-as-normal: the deputy sheriffs Rick and Shane become the natural leaders of the group, often skirmishing over alpha male rights—namely, over Rick’s wife Lori. The series’s only minority male characters left by the second season are Glenn and a black Georgian nicknamed “T-Dog.” At one point T-Dog, separated from the group with an elderly man named Dale, details the masculine hierarchy within the camp: They think we’re the weakest. What are you, like 70?. . . And I’m the one black guy. Do you realize how precarious that makes my situation?. . . I’m talking about two “good ol’ boy” cowboy sheriffs. . . . Who in that scenario do you think is gonna be the first to get lynched?. . . Why are we on the side of this road like live bait? (“Bloodletting”) T-Dog’s existential conundrum reveals the impossibility of merely restarting society postapocalypse. Baldwin and McCarthy criticize apocalyptic narratives as not always as progressive as they seem: rather, they construct a notion of citizenship “that is overwhelmingly white, male, and heterosexual, where women and people of color are valued only in so much as they are useful” (76). Despite Rick’s colorblind talk, the power dynamics that arise in the survivor camp create a logic that supports a particular white, cowboy masculinity. Rick’s ranger persona, with his refusal to wear anything but his cowboy-like deputy hat and his entry into Atlanta on a horse with a rifle slung over his back, places him at the top of the survivor hierarchy (Hassler-Forest 342; Rees 83). As the decision maker of the group— he determines destinations, decides if interlopers live or die, and determines who serves on particular missions—Rick becomes the camp’s natural leader and protector. The remainder of the survivors fulfill their roles in relation to his position of power, as helpful or expendable minorities. Other analyses of TWD have applied a philosophical framework to investigate the consequences of the struggle for dominance between the show’s white male leads (Kempner 161, Walker 84). Walker, for 64 Helen K. Ho example, compares the ordered government-style compound of Woodbury under the Governor’s leadership to the natural law adopted by Rick and his group of survivors (82–84). Shane, Rick, and the Governor vie for dominance, but scuffles limit the competition to those embodying upper-middle class, hegemonic masculinity. As T-Dog laments on the side of the highway, TWD reiterates the centrality of white masculinity in its narrative, as well as the existing feelings of inequality that shape survivors’ social relations. Glenn Rhee: Model Survivor Generic and narrative conventions of apocalypse texts make it clear that white male leadership will be tested. When this happens, postapocalypse narratives “offer representational spaces in which [we] can explore sexuality and gender roles” (Murray 15). Readings such as Baldwin and McCarthy’s have looked at the ways in which women’s roles expand in a postpatriarchy apocalypse, but little has been done to explore the ways in which other men, like Glenn, can thrive as the white hero falters. Unlike T-Dog, Glenn never questions his role in the group even as the only other racial minority; rather, he becomes an accepted and valuable part of it. With no family left and a status as a mere pizza delivery boy prior to the zombie infestation, Glenn tries to find a place in a new world of shifting allegiances and changing notions of patriarchal power (Hassler-Forest 345). Neither the hypermasculine kung fu figure nor the effeminate sidekick, Glenn offers an Asian-American masculinity that is heroic without being “macho,” sexual without being deviant, and strategic without being cunning. Despite this more three-dimensional portrayal of an Asian-American character, the show’s promotional materials and actor interviews position Glenn within the framework of the model minority stereotype. Glenn’s growth into a dynamic Asian-American male is enabled first and foremost by his position as a model minority character. As the institution of white patriarchy falters throughout the seasons (Sheppard 140), Glenn’s model minority traits are reconfigured as masculine traits, allowing him to embody characteristics typically afforded to hegemonic, white men. An AMC-sponsored quiz entitled, “Which Character Are You” reveals the ways in which model minority characteristics are at work The Model Minority in the Zombie Apocalypse 65 in Glenn’s portrayal. Providing a series of multiple-choice questions during a hypothetical supply run through zombie-infested streets, the quiz pairs responses to particular characters. A user with Glenn’s personality profile is described below: Quick-witted and dexterous, you are loyal to your surrogate family and take risks on their behalf, risks that would intimidate others. You’re confident in your ability to plan and execute complicated schemes because you can think on your feet to get out of unforeseen scrapes. Although you value what you’ve got, you yearn for something more in terms of a relationship. The qualities in this summary—clever, skillful, group-minded, self-sacrificing, needing intimacy—closely align with the qualities often attributed to the model minority stereotype. The model minority is described as exhibiting “singleness of purpose, patience and endurance, cunning, fanaticism, and group loyalty” (Okihiro 141); as “diligent, disciplined, possessed of strong family values, respectful of authority, thrifty, moral, self-sufficient, and committed to education” (C.J. Kim 20); and as “exceptional yet not part of the mainstream” (Ono and Pham 80, 85). These are all qualities Glenn embodies: he is a survivor who would prefer to sacrifice himself for others, is fiercely loyal to his group, is sly and strategic on missions as the group’s “go to town” gofer, all while respecting the group’s older authority figures. As a model minority, Glenn inhabits a space on the opposite end of the spectrum from yellow peril. In TWD, the yellow peril—described as a “tremendous population explosion. . . challeng[ing] white rule [and] threaten[ing] the very heart of the white homeland” (Okihiro 129–30)—is replaced the zombie peril, “the anti-life. . . which must always be kept quarantined, if not actively eradicated and destroyed” (Canavan 432). With zombies as the most visible threat, Glenn cannot be seen as inassimilable or foreign when fighting alongside his human compatriots. Furthermore, when Glenn first saves Rick and helps provide an escape route out of Atlanta, he becomes a valuable part of American (white) survival; the white cowboy hero cannot survive without Glenn’s resourcefulness. By putting his life on the line to retrieve Rick’s bag of guns and lost sheriff’s hat, Glenn’s dexterity and quick wit ultimately defend the survivors 66 Helen K. Ho by arming them with weapons; his self-sacrifice enables and perpetuates the white Western masculinity that positions Rick as the team leader (“Tell It to the Frogs”). Glenn’s diligence and loyalty repeatedly keeps characters alive throughout the series’ seasons, from covering himself in zombie innards to help the survivors escape Atlanta (“Guts”), to allowing the group to lower him into a well contaminated by a waterengorged zombie (“Cherokee Rose”). Dedicated to his survivor “family,” he feels a duty to Rick as well as to the human dead. After the camp is overrun by zombies, Glenn digs graves for the dead, yelling at those attempting to burn corpses along with zombie parts: “Our people go over there! We don’t burn them” (“Wildfire”). Glenn describes himself to Rick as a “glass-half-full kind of guy,” and unquestioningly saves others in what he calls a “foolish na€?ve hope that if I’m ever that far up shit creek, someone would do that for me” (“Guts”). Glenn is not only a loyal servant fighting for his friends’ survival, but his fast thinking also proves to be an asset to the group. In Atlanta with Rick, Daryl and T-Dog, Glenn adopts a war-room persona as he explains his strategy to find weapons and avoid zombies. Clearly in awe of Glenn’s strategic brainpower, Daryl asks Glenn what he used to do before the apocalypse; Glenn responds, “Delivered pizzas” (“Vatos”). At this moment, Glenn serves to juxtapose the hunter and lawman in Daryl and Rick, respectively. Despite Glenn’s lack of experience with tactical maneuvers and strategy that one might associate with a leader like Rick, his ability to earn Rick’s trust solidifies his status as a valuable component of the group—enough to convince the others to conduct a rescue mission for Glenn when he is kidnapped and held captive by city gang members. Glenn’s growth as a character on the margins to one central to the survival of the group makes him one of the more dynamic characters of the show’s ensemble. Consistently discussed in promotional materials and by actors as the character that grows the most (by season three, Rick establishes a tendency to rely on Daryl and Glenn for most of his missions), Glenn evolves from being a pizza delivery boy to a right-hand man, under the purview of the group’s white male leader. The Model Minority in the Zombie Apocalypse 67 A New Model Masculinity Capitalizing on the popularity of zombies to educate Americans about emergencies, the CDC has a recommended plan of action for a hypothetical zombie apocalypse (Khan). The plan divides survival efforts into three phases: short-, medium-, and long-term. Tactics or strategies that lead to success in each phase are: survival (running/ hiding/fighting); establishment (farming/logistics/manufacturing); and diplomacy (alliance, detente, conquest), respectively (Sheppard 129). Si Sheppard notes that these phases parallel the generic conventions of the apocalypse narrative: as the characters on TWD move from one phase to the next, so do the seasons of the TV show. And, with each season, Rick’s leadership—his status as a leader and his desire to be a leader—begins to falter. Rick’s failure to maintain the order and safety of the group’s prison compound establishment— complete with farm and school—in season three marks “the decline of white, hegemonic power as postapocalyptic humanity begins to try and reestablish itself” (Sheppard 133). Rick, representing the institution of white patriarchy and its modes of domination over others, becomes what Dan Hassler-Forest names an ultimately unsustainable solution: “Although other characters frequently mention his natural qualities as a leader, and even as he accepts this role over and over again, his abilities in that regard are questionable at best” (348). While his “natural” leadership went unquestioned as the rule of order in the beginning of TWD, it devolves into an untenable institution or organizing structure for long-term diplomacy and social relations in season three. In helping Rick maintain his leadership role, Glenn is positioned as a model minority with characteristics helpful in all three stages of the CDC’s (and Rick’s) survival plan. He has the quickness and agility for the survival efforts, the strategic thinking and logistical planning for group settlement, and the ability to quietly assimilate for diplomatic efforts throughout seasons one to three. Throughout the seasons, white male characters struggle to maintain positions of power: as this hierarchy crumbles, so does the strength of the frameworks limiting the minority characters on the show. This becomes clear when taking into account how Glenn grows into a strong, sexually desirable hero as TWD’s narrative progresses. 68 Helen K. Ho Seasons one and two position Glenn alongside the elderly peacemaker Dale in a father–son relationship made even more overt when Glenn inherits Dale’s Camp RV upon Dale’s death (“Beside the Dying Fire”). Younger than most of the other male characters, Glenn sports a boyish physique and attitude compared to the muscular physicality of Rick or Shane; in season one his oversized t-shirt, baseball cap—contextualized as a masculine symbol between Rick’s structured sheriff’s hat and Dale’s floppy fishing hat5 —is reminiscent of Indiana Jones’s young Short Round.6 In an AMC-sponsored video Yeun explains: “[Glenn’s] fighting this hierarchy that’s been created in this group we have. There’s clear leaders. . .. [but] they’re going to him for a lot of things, and that affects him too, because he’s like, “Oh I see, I’m starting to have more responsibility now, and I’m kind of becoming a man” (“Who is Glenn”). Glenn’s status as a man is confirmed in season two, when he begins his relationship with Maggie. On a mission, Maggie tells him, “I hear you’re fast on your feet and know how to get in and out,” providing innuendo that identifies Glenn as a sexual being for the first time on the show. In fact, it is Maggie who, despite saying her options are not “vast these days,” offers herself to Glenn (“Cherokee Rose”). Seeing Glenn and Maggie, topless and kissing, elevates TWD’s Asian-American character to a new level of masculinity that few, if any, Asian-American men have been able to reach on screen. Glenn’s sexual relationship with Maggie is not deviant, lustful, and will not be punished; rather, the interracial pairing of Asian man/ white woman is seen by the show’s “colorblind” characters as merely two humans falling in love. At the start of their relationship, Glenn is presented more as a developing adolescent rather than a full-fledged man; this is seen when Lori tells Maggie, “Glenn’s a big boy. . . tell him to man up and pull himself together” (“18 Miles Out”). The advice, from Rick’s older wife to Glenn’s younger girlfriend, suggests that Rick has reached a level of manhood that Glenn has yet to achieve. Even Maggie points out Glenn’s low status: “You’re smart, you’re brave; you’re a leader. But you don’t know it, and your friends don’t want to know it. They’d rather have you fetching peaches. There’s a dead guy in the well? Send Glenn down. You’re walker bait” (“Secrets”). As Glenn protects Maggie in an increasing number of life-and-death situations, it becomes clear that he can provide as a man should and The Model Minority in the Zombie Apocalypse 69 as a man like Rick has been doing. Giving Glenn a family heirloom, Hershel says, “No man is good enough for your little girl, until one is” (Judge, Jury, Executioner). Finally recognizing Glenn as more than “the Asian boy,” Hershel deems Glenn a man and erases his Asian difference by comparing Glenn’s Korean parents to his own immigrant ancestors. By the time the group is forced to flee the farmstead Glenn finds a position within the survivor camp that puts him on par with the rest of the men as a provider, sexual being, and fighter. At the Governor’s compound in season three, Glenn withstands a physical beating and fights a zombie while tied to a chair: viewers see Glenn in a shirtless display of sheer rage and raw masculine physicality. After this, Glenn’s masculinity is no longer in question; he returns to Hershel with the heirloom, declaring, “I know what it means now. I know what it takes” (“This Sorrowful Life”). Later, Glenn makes no hesitation to tackle an unruly camp member, and his sex with Maggie becomes more open and less timid—season three’s “Arrow on the Doorpost” provides audiences with a rare glimpse of passionate lovemaking and unfettered sexuality between an Asian man and a white woman.7 With his new experience as an individual fighter and protector, Glenn grows up from being Maggie’s boyfriend to her husband. Glenn’s uncomplaining, diligent and devoted work at first helps maintain the logic that preserves Rick’s status as group leader, but his model minority status also helps to illuminate some of the limitations (too brawny, too individualistic) of white leadership and masculinity. As Sheppard suggests, Rick’s individual qualities fail to translate into the institutional basis for his leadership (140). Glenn’s growth as a male hero challenges Rick’s white masculinity more and more; indeed, it is Glenn who immediately challenges Rick’s brand of Western masculinity at the start of the series. While Rick contends with a new zombie reality and learning survival tactics, Glenn calls Rick “Clint Eastwood” and “a dumbass” and asks if he is “the new sheriff, come riding in to clean up the town”; the other survivors also chastise Rick for “shooting up the street like it’s the O.K. Corral” (“Guts”). In contrast, Glenn’s continual loyalty to the group and his constant return from missions with tangible rewards (supplies, pregnancy tests, ammunition) stands in contrast to Rick’s individualistic efforts to be leader and spokesman, especially when 70 Helen K. Ho the group learns that Rick has held a secret long after their visit to the CDC. With his unwavering loyalty, other-directedness and craftiness, Glenn’s model minority characteristics fill the leadership gaps that Rick’s flaws create. While Rick feels that he must at times defy expectations to do what he thinks is best for all, Glenn ultimately proves to be one of the show’s best characters, building relationships and maintaining social ties while his character is tested. Unlike Rick, Glenn openly shares his frustrations when he feels he’s failed to live up to others’ expectations. After fighting an outlaw band of survivors, Glenn expresses his disappointment to Maggie over his failures: “[Hershel] saved my life today. And Rick saved us both. And I froze. . . A bullet hit the wall behind me and I thought of you losing me, hurting, and I couldn’t take it so I hid to stay alive” (“Triggerfinger”). Despite his thoughts of failure and cowardice, Glenn’s confession actually reveals the limitations of white male heroism. Rick, always a leader with guns blazing, is rarely anxious about how his death may affect his family. Immediately after reuniting with his wife and son, he decides to head back into Atlanta’s zombie-infested streets on another mission. Glenn, on the other hand, is continually concerned about others and their safety. Even when he professes his desire to care for Maggie and give up his role as the group’s supply runner, Glenn places Maggie’s survival ahead of his own: “I let them lower me into that well like it was fun, like I was playing. . . a video game. . .. I don’t want you in danger, ever. . . . I’d rather have you pissed off at me, than liking me and dead” (“Pretty Much Dead Already”). At this point, Glenn shifts from being a complacent model minority to a man who realizes he can, unlike T-Dog, refuse to accept the dominance of white masculinity and the masculine hierarchy is supports. Glenn’s transition from boy to man in TWD’s third season comes at the same time that Rick and the Governor falter in their roles as white leaders in their respective communities. When both men confront each other against the advice and reason of their confidantes, it becomes clear that the stalwart stability and rigid masculinity both embody is tenuous at best. Glenn’s transition into a passionate defender of the prison, physical fighter, lover and future husband suggests that an adaptable, relational masculinity reaps more rewards than Rick’s stoic and traditional hegemonic masculinity. While Glenn continues to gain the trust of other characters, Rick loses trust: even The Model Minority in the Zombie Apocalypse 71 Carl questions Rick’s ability to lead and, in an iconic moment, drops Rick’s sheriff’s badge into the dirt. In a new world order where race and ethnicity supposedly do not matter, it is the model minority characteristics of keeping one’s head down, being humble, cooperative, and loyal that lead to success. Glenn’s evolution, in direct opposition to the failures of Rick and the Governor’s secrecy and self-absorption, highlights the possibility of a new masculine hierarchy in a postapocalyptic society. Conclusion Glenn’s evolution as a hero has been discussed and heralded by viewers, TV critics, and bloggers. His growth as a character parallels Rick’s decline as a leader, and this is no coincidence. If the model minority stereotype was created to uphold the virtues of white masculinity, the category of “model minority” itself must dissolve as the qualities of white masculinity become untenable in the postapocalypse. As white masculinity struggles to define and maintain itself, its power to define and shape others falters as well. Without the overarching structure of white patriarchy the Asian American as model minority cannot exist. The Asian-American character, like others, is free to make his own choices as to who and what he can be (Kempner 145–46). Using the zombie apocalypse as a narrative catalyst and framework, TWD supports a new world order and social hierarchy. The zombie threat heralds the breakdown of society, and men traditionally protected by the social hierarchy—those embodying hegemonic ideals —find themselves on a leveled playing field of humanity. As Rick’s heroic status declines the structuring frameworks that go hand in hand with the white, patriarchal society he represents disintegrate; as this happens, Glenn’s role becomes more legitimate and valued. In some ways, Glenn’s growth is a catch-22: TWD presents a groundbreaking portrayal of Asian-American identity on television, yet only within a postracial, fantastical postapocalyptic scenario can an Asian American break free of stereotypes. Yet, the apocalypse helps to highlight the untenable qualities and arbitrary hierarchies enforced by traditional, white cowboy masculinity. As these limitations are revealed, Glenn moves from having desirable model minority 72 Helen K. Ho characteristics and can evolve instead into a desirable hero, on his own terms. As Glenn becomes a human survivor unlimited by the structure of white patriarchy, it becomes clear that his “model minority” characteristics are helpful individual qualities for anyone, not just “the Asian guy,” to have. As part of the genre of apocalyptic zombie narratives that pit humanity against the zombie horde, TWD’s storylines hinge on the challenges and bonding experiences of being human regardless of difference. In the fight for survival, the measure of a man is not his race, ethnicity, age, or class; rather, a human male is one in control of his body, able to protect himself from victimization—penetration— by zombie teeth. As such, TWD has consistently denied a discussion of race or class, instead focusing on subtle displays of difference (through costume, heated moments in which the Dixons are labeled “rednecks,” and passing mentions of gender roles) amongst the survivors in order to favor a more overt juxtaposition of human to zombie. By looking at the ways in which minority masculinities are positioned and shaped in a zombie narrative such as TWD, we can read the postapocalypse as a dystopian space with utopian possibilities: while patriarchal structure is still maintained (e.g., through Rick’s continued status as group leader; the focus on white characters; the underlying racial/class tensions that still ebb and flow beneath the narrative surface), traditional masculinities and the authority they hold over others are tested, challenged, and broken, making room for others. Notes 1. For instance, author Ben Metric claims that “Hollywood casting directors initially wanted to exclude all Asian male characters” from the film 21, an adaptation of his book about a group of mostly Asian-American card counters from MIT (Lin). These “whitewashing” practices are also rife for other racial minorities: for example, the debates over the casting decisions made for 20100 s The Last Airbender, where white leads played the story’s Asian- and Native-American roles, and Prince of Persia, which cast actor Jake Gyllenhal as the lead and did not feature any Iranian or Middle Eastern actors (C. Lee). 2. Contemporary examples of this can be found in NBC’s Heroes, where Hiro Nakamura (Masi Oka) falls in love with Yaeko, a Japanese princess, when he time travels to feudal Japan; on ABC’s Lost, viewers were privy to the romance between Jin Kwon (Daniel Dae Kim) and his wife from Korea. 3. See, for example, the attention Asian-American viewers and minority groups paid to the relationship between Korean-American FBI agent Demetri Noh, played by John Cho, and The Model Minority in the Zombie Apocalypse 4. 5. 6. 7. 73 his African-American fiancee Zoey Andata, played by Gabrielle Union on ABC’s FlashForward (Estrella). The romantic Asian male-white female coupling is so rare that the pairing of John Cho with Karen Gillan on ABC’s Selfie, a televised modernization of My Fair Lady, garnered the attention of NPR (Haruch 2014). The series did not survive past its first season. Glenn’s plain white baseball cap also stands in comparison to Shane’s official police baseball cap. The headwear helps, in some ways, to reinforce the social hierarchy of the group. In a 2012 interview, Yeun mentioned his resistance to portraying Asian stereotypes and the fact that he felt he looked like Short Round on season one: “Nobody noticed until it aired, and then they all said, ‘Wait a minute, you look like Short Round’” (Lehman). As John, a writer for Asian-American blog 8Asians declared: “Having an Asian American man get it on with a white woman–now that is definitely not something you see every day, let alone every year.” Works Cited “18 Miles Out.” The Walking Dead. American Movie Classics. 26 Feb. 2012. 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Ho is an assistant professor of Communication Studies at Saint Mary’s College in Notre Dame, IN. Her research is broadly centered on issues of race, ethnicity, and gender, with a specific focus on Asian-American masculinity. © Slatton, Brittany C.; Spates, Kamesha, May 13, 2016, Hyper Sexual, Hyper Masculine? : Gender, Race and Sexuality in the Identities of Contemporary Black Me Taylor and Francis, Farnham, ISBN: 9781472425133 Chapter 3 The Black Box: Constrained Maneuvering of Black Masculine Identity Brittany C. Slatton A Fearless Trayvon Martin? In July 2012, Sean Hannity of Fox News conducted one of the first public interviews of George Zimmerman, the neighborhood watch captain who fatally shot 17-yearold Trayvon Martin. During the interview, Hannity reminded Zimmerman that he told the 911 dispatcher that Martin was running. Hannity then asked Zimmerman to consider that ‘Maybe he [Trayvon Martin] was afraid of you, didn’t know who you were.’ Zimmerman responded saying, ‘Maybe I said running, but he was more … he was like skipping, going away quickly. But he wasn’t running out of fear.’1 The jurors declared that George Zimmerman’s fear justified his use of deadly force. He was acquitted of all charges and walked away a free man. Race and gender are socially constructed categories which are embedded in every aspect of society and connected to preconceived ideas and expectations of how members of a particular category should think and behave. Society has normative expectations for black male criminality, hypermasculinity and hypersexuality, which in the example above lead to severe overreactions with potentially deadly consequences. The tragic death of Martin illustrates this point and reflects a unique balancing act for black men in which they must develop a healthy identity while maneuvering the limitations of white normative expectations. Black men confront a discriminatory criminal justice system that uses laws and policies to ward against the white constructed threat they pose. They encounter whites, other racial groups, and representatives of the white authority—police officers, judges, and jurors—who use normative expectations for criminality, sexuality, and violence, to shape how they respond to black men when they encounter them in society. To elucidate these points, this chapter examines how the social structures constructed by whites limit the possibility for black men to create their own identities and cause devastating consequences for their lives. 1 ‘Flashback: Sean Hannity’s Interview with George Zimmerman,’ Fox Nation, http://nation.foxnews.com/george-zimmerman/2012/07/18/must-see-interview-georgezimmerman-breaks-his-silence-hannity-tonight (accessed 19 September 2013). © Slatton, Brittany C.; Spates, Kamesha, May 13, 2016, Hyper Sexual, Hyper Masculine? : Gender, Race and Sexuality in the Identities of Contemporary Black Me Taylor and Francis, Farnham, ISBN: 9781472425133 34 Hyper Sexual, Hyper Masculine? Black Men in a Socially Stratified Society Society is structured along interconnected micro-, meso-, and macro- levels of social structure. The micro-level social structure focuses on one-on-one or small group social encounters and interactions and individual cognitions and emotions. The meso-level is distinguished by categorical and corporate units. A corporate unit reflects the division of labor in society designed to achieve specific goals or tasks. Universities, corporations, and families are examples of corporate units that are responsible for various tasks. Categorical units are used to distinguish and evaluate people within society and within the corporate unit(s) or divisions of labor. Categorical units reflect race, ethnicity, gender, class, and age.2 The macro-level social structure includes the social stratification system within society and its broad social institutions. A social stratification system is ‘built around the unequal distribution of valued resources—money, power, prestige, honor, [and] education,’ amongst others.3 The stratification system in the United States allocates these resources on the basis of categorical units or distinct social strata, including race, class, gender, and age. The major institutions of society include ‘family,’ ‘polity,’ ‘education, religion, science, medicine, sports, recreation, and law’ and these institutions work to ‘control and coordinate activities in society.’4 Social institutions and the stratification system are interconnected. Because people have access to different resources on the basis of their categorical unit, they are ‘channeled … into different positions’ or corporate units, within the various social institutions. For example, people of different races, genders, and class categories experience different types of employment and education.5 Ideologies justify, legitimate, and maintain the stratification system of society and the various dynamics of social institutions. Ideologies consist of values and belief systems, such as meritocracy and capitalism, which explain why society exists in its present state, and why it should continue to exist in such a way. Individuals operating within society use ideologies to justify the fact that they have access to resources or at times to explain why they do not have access to these resources.6 During the time of slavery and Jim Crow laws, valuable resources were distributed to blacks and whites unequally. Slavery denied black men their basic rights and forced them to breed and provide free labor. Legal segregation channeled black men into substandard education programs; low paying, low status jobs; and limited their political involvement. Influential white males throughout US history have constructed racial ideologies to legitimize the exploitive systems 2 Jonathan H. Turner, ‘Toward a General Theory of Interpersonal Processes,’ in Within the Social World: Essays in Social Psychology, (eds.) Jeffrey C. Chin and Cardell K. Jacobson (Boston: Pearson, 2009). 3 Ibid.: p. 68. 4 Ibid. 5 Ibid.: p. 71. 6 Ibid. © Slatton, Brittany C.; Spates, Kamesha, May 13, 2016, Hyper Sexual, Hyper Masculine? : Gender, Race and Sexuality in the Identities of Contemporary Black Me Taylor and Francis, Farnham, ISBN: 9781472425133 The Black Box 35 of slavery and Jim Crow laws in order to justify the unequal treatment of blacks. This ideology defined whites, especially white men, as biologically and culturally superior, and therefore deserving of their high status in society. It also defined blacks as biologically and culturally inferior. Black men specifically were seen as child like, animalistic, lazy, criminal, violent, and hypersexual. Racial ideology explained black men’s low status in society as a consequence of their flawed character, rather than the machinations of a stratified society. Contemporary society is comprised of a discriminatory legal system that channels black men into court rooms, jails, and prisons at an astronomical rate, creating a mass incarceration system. Contemporary laws and policies on crime, while appearing racially neutral, are applied differently to black men and create disparate outcomes. Racial ideology of hypersexual and hypercriminal black men supports the unequal application of the law, which results in the intense surveillance, harassment, mass incarceration, and deaths of black men. This biased criminal justice system limits black men’s access to jobs, education, political offices, and their overall intellectual contribution to society. Micro-level social encounters are embedded in macro- and meso- social structures. When people encounter black men in a social situation, they evaluate their race, social class and occupation. The results of that evaluation shape how they think, emote, interact and react to them.7 Race and gender are often, but not always, the most salient characteristics of black men; hence even an upper class black man with a good job will often be perceived as a potential threat. Because the categorical units of black and male are primarily associated with criminality and hypersexuality, when whites (and other racial groups) encounter black men, they frame their interaction along this normative expectation. George Zimmerman’s encounter with Trayvon Martin is a perfect illustration. He assumed Martin, who was innocently walking back to his father’s house wearing white sneakers and a dark gray hoodie, was a potential criminal and he reacted to him by calling the police, following him with a loaded gun, and fatally shooting him. White society punishes black men whether or not they exhibit criminal or hypersexual behavior. Simply being black and male makes them an automatic threat. Furthermore, society responds to that perceived threat with hyper-vigilance and hyper-aggression. Let us now examine several examples that illustrate how black men’s experiences are shaped by macro-level ideology, policies, and laws and micro-level encounters and reactions. 7 Ibid.: p. 67. © Slatton, Brittany C.; Spates, Kamesha, May 13, 2016, Hyper Sexual, Hyper Masculine? : Gender, Race and Sexuality in the Identities of Contemporary Black Me Taylor and Francis, Farnham, ISBN: 9781472425133 36 Hyper Sexual, Hyper Masculine? Illustrations: The Impact of Normative Expectations Normative Expectations of Hypersexuality The rape of white women by black men (and consensual sex) was one of the greatest fears during both slavery and legal segregation. Most jurisdictions before the Civil War administered the death penalty or castration to black men who were accused by whites.8 At times white mobs removed black suspects from courtrooms, with little to no evidence, and lynched them before legal proceedings could begin.9 The post Civil War era of legal segregation created heightened fears of black rapists. Whites feared the newly freed population and sought to reestablish control. Lynching became the primary punishment for black men accused of raping white women during this time. The fate of black men who actually made it to the courtroom was all but sealed, as lynch mobs coerced ‘judicial proceedings’ and courts allowed all white jurors to legally consider the race of both the accused and the alleged victim.10 According to one judge, ‘In determining the question of intention, the jury may consider social conditions and customs founded upon racial differences, such as that the prosecutrix was a white woman and defendant was a Negro man.’11 This special rule illustrates that being a black man was enough evidence to prove intent to rape. From the early to mid 1900s black men convicted of raping white women were overwhelmingly executed in comparison to white men.12 Contemporarily, black men are still more likely to receive stiffer penalties if convicted of raping white women versus women of another race.13 At the micro-level, white normative expectations of hypersexuality influence the social encounters of whites with black men—what they expect from them and how they act or react to them. Black men are not only perceived as rapists but also as well-endowed and able to please women sexually. Scott Poulson-Bryant’s work Hung: A Mediation on the Measure of Black Men in America anecdotally describes how sexual expectations shape social encounters with black men, which affects their self-identity. In his sophomore year at Brown University, PoulsonBryant recalls meeting a college-aged white woman at a party. As they began to dance, she noted the size of his shoes, asking, ‘What size shoe do you wear?’ Poulson-Bryant did not think much of the question initially, but it became apparent when they commenced to her off campus apartment for sex. After sex, the young 8 Jennifer Wriggins, ‘Rape, Racism and the Law,’ in Race, Class, and Gender: An Anthology, 7th ed., (eds) M.L. Anderson and P. Hill Collins (Belmont, CA: Wadsworth, 2010). 9 Ibid. 10 Ibid.: p. 480. 11 Ibid.: p. 481. 12 Donald H. Partington, ‘The Incidence of the Death Penalty for Rape in Virginia,’ Washington and Lee Law Review 22 (1965). 13 See Wriggins, ‘Rape, Racism, and the Law.’ © Slatton, Brittany C.; Spates, Kamesha, May 13, 2016, Hyper Sexual, Hyper Masculine? : Gender, Race and Sexuality in the Identities of Contemporary Black Me Taylor and Francis, Farnham, ISBN: 9781472425133 The Black Box 37 woman touched his penis and said, ‘I thought you’d be bigger than you are.’14 Poulson-Scott was immediately overcome by self-doubt. He did not ‘measure up to the expectations’ of the well-endowed black man. He realized that she was only interested in him because of the sexual myth of the ‘black buck.’ Not only did he lack size, he also lacked sexual experience, as this was his first foray into casual sex. Sanctioned for not living up to the sexual myth, Poulson-Bryant attempted to mediate his shortcoming in subsequent hook ups with the young white women by having ‘louder, rougher, tougher, blacker,’ animalistic sex.15 The young woman assumed that his race was an indicator of his sexual endowment and sexual prowess; her expectations framed her encounter with him, which affected Poulson-Bryant’s concept of self. He was conflicted by the burden of the myth and by his strong desire to live up to the myth. Normative Expectations of Hypercriminality The 1980s War on Drugs, spearheaded by President Ronald Reagan, was heavily influenced by normative expectations of black male criminality. The Anti-Drug Abuse Act, passed by Congress in 1986, proved extremely tough on blacks accused of involvement with crack cocaine. The act stipulated a 100:1 ratio for crack and powder cocaine sentencing and mandated five and ten year minimum sentences. Fifty grams of crack cocaine netted a defendant a ten-year minimum sentence, while it took 5,000 grams of powder cocaine to receive a similar punishment. The Act stipulated that law enforcement should focus on major drug traffickers, however, officers primarily arrested street level crack cocaine dealers, who were predominantly black, which resulted in a devastating increase in the black prison population.16 Only recently, in 2010, did Congress reduce the ratio for crack/powder cocaine sentencing to 18:1 and eliminate the five-year mandatory minimum sentence for first time offenders.17 Within the past two decades, police officers have steadily enforced marijuana restrictions. Marijuana possession accounted for nearly 50 percent of all drug arrests in 2010. Blacks were 3.73 times more likely than whites to be arrested for this crime in 2010, despite findings that whites and blacks use this drug at similar rates.18 The arrest rate for blacks was 716 per 100,000 blacks, while the rate for whites was 192 per 100,000 whites. This disparity is consistent even when 14 Scott Poulson-Bryant, Hung: A Mediation on the Measure of Black Men in America (New York: Harlem Moon, 2005): 10. 15 Ibid.: p. 13. 16 Kimbrough v. United States, Legal Information Institute, http://www.law.cornell. edu/supct/html/06–6330.ZS.html (accessed 19 September 2013). 17 Jim Abrams, ‘Congress Passes Bill to Reduce Disparity in Crack, Powder Cocaine Sentencing,’ The Washington Post, July 29, 2010. 18 ‘The War on Marijuana in Black and White,’ American Civil Liberties Union, http://aclu.org/files/assets/061413-mj-report-rfs-rel5.pdf (accessed 19 September 2013). © Slatton, Brittany C.; Spates, Kamesha, May 13, 2016, Hyper Sexual, Hyper Masculine? : Gender, Race and Sexuality in the Identities of Contemporary Black Me Taylor and Francis, Farnham, ISBN: 9781472425133 Hyper Sexual, Hyper Masculine? 38 county and income are taken into consideration. Blacks in middle and upper class counties have an even greater arrest rate than their white counterparts.19 The New York Police Department’s (NYPD) stop-and-frisk practice is yet another policy disproportionately used to ward against normative expectations of black (and Latino) male criminality. Stop-and-frisk practices allow NYPD officers to stop and potentially frisk people on the basis of several suspicions, such as fitting the description of a suspect or having a ‘suspicious bulge/object.’20 Within the last ten years, stop-and frisk practices have increased by over 600 percent. These practices were meant to aid in ‘confiscat[ing] illegal weapons,’ but instead have resulted in the confiscation of only 1.14 percent of illegal ‘weapons and contraband.’ Many of the stops ‘are not based on the required level of suspicion’ and are enforced to incite fear among black and Latino citizens.21 Black men are overwhelmingly harassed as a result of these policies, and some are stopped more than once a day. Most stop-and-frisks are unjustified and racially motivated. In 2012, New York police officers stopped 532,911 New Yorkers. Of those stopped, 55 percent were black and only 10 percent were white. Eighty-nine percent of those stopped were completely innocent. Even blacks and Latinos living in predominantly white neighborhoods were more likely to be stopped by the police than whites in that same neighborhood.22 In Park Slope, blacks and Latinos accounted for 79 percent of the stops, yet ‘made up [only] 24 percent of the population.’23 While crime has declined in New York City between 2001 and 2010, there is no data to suggest that stop-and-frisk practices have positively contributed to the reduced crime rate. In fact, other major cities without stop-and-frisk policies have experienced an even greater reduction in violent crimes.24 In August 2013, US District Judge Shira Schiendlin ruled NYPD stop-and-frisk practices unconstitutional because they violate the Fourth and Fourteenth Amendments ‘against unlawful search and seizures’ and ‘equal protection under the law.’25 New York Mayor Bloomeberg plans to appeal this ruling. Current social psychology studies reveal that micro-level social encounters with black men are influenced by subconscious associations of blacks with criminality. These associations and subsequent micro-level encounters with black 19 20 Ibid. ‘Stop and Frisk: The Human Impact,’ Center for Constitutional Rights, http:// stopandfrisk.org/the-human-impact-report.pdf (accessed 19 September 2013), 4. 21 Ibid.: p. 4. 22 ‘Stop-and-Frisk Data,’ New York Civil Liberties Union, http://www.nyclu.org/ content/stop-and-frisk-data (accessed 19 September 2013). 23 ‘Stop-and-Frisk Facts,’ New York Civil Liberties Union, http://www.nyclu.org/ node/1598 (accessed 19 September 2013). 24 Ibid. 25 ‘Federal Judge Orders Major Reforms to NYPD Stop-and-Frisk Practices,’ New York Civil Liberties Union, http://www.nyclu.org/news/federal-judge-orders-majorreforms-nypd-stop-and-frisk-practices (accessed 19 September 2013). © Slatton, Brittany C.; Spates, Kamesha, May 13, 2016, Hyper Sexual, Hyper Masculine? : Gender, Race and Sexuality in the Identities of Contemporary Black Me Taylor and Francis, Farnham, ISBN: 9781472425133 The Black Box 39 men are embedded in meso- and macro-level dynamics of society. Researchers Eberhardt, Goff, Purdie, and Davies conducted a study to investigate whether people subconsciously associate black people with crime. To answer this question, Eberhardt and colleagues subliminally exposed white male college students to crime-related images, such as knives and guns. The students were then asked to complete a dot probe task, in which simultaneous images of black and white faces were shown on a computer screen and quickly removed. They were then asked to locate a dot that appeared in the same place as the image as quickly as possible. The researchers found that when ‘primed to think of crime,’ the students were much quicker to locate the dot placed near the black face ‘than when they were not primed.’26 Eberhardt and colleagues conducted a similar study with police officers by subliminally exposing them to ‘words associated with violent crime,’ such as ‘arrest,’ ‘shoot,’ and ‘apprehend.’ They found that police officers were also more likely to look at pictures of black faces, when primed with words associated with crime right before the task.27 Research by Greenwald, Oakes, and Hoffman shows the effect of race on an experiment that included simulated shootings. In their study, 106 predominantly white college students responded to a virtual crime scene, in which they were asked to shoot at criminals by clicking their mouse, identify police officers by using the spacebar, and avoid harm to citizens by not responding. Both the simulated criminals and police officers were armed and were only distinguishable by race—white or black—which was alternated in the experiment. Citizens, portrayed as black or white, held harmless objects, such as flashlights, bottles, and cameras. The results revealed that subjects were more likely to shoot blacks than whites, had ‘greater difficulty distinguishing weapons from harmless objects when the weapons were in the hands of blacks,’ and were more likely to identify ‘objects held by blacks’ as guns.28 Studies of subconscious behavior strongly mirror real life social encounters with black men. Michael Dunn’s fatal shooting of Jordan Davis, a 17-year-old black teenager, which occurred not long after the death of Trayvon Martin, is one of many such examples. Davis and three friends were parked in a sports utility vehicle listening to music at a Jacksonville, Florida gas station, when Dunn, a 45-yearold white male, pulled up next to their vehicle. He rolled his window down and told them to turn the music down. According to Dunn, an argument ensued. The teenagers threatened him and then brandished a shotgun. He stated that he was in fear for his life when he removed his gun from the glove compartment and shot nine rounds into the SUV. Davis was shot three times. After the shooting, Dunn 26 Jennifer L. Eberhardt, ‘Enduring Racial Associations: African Americans, Crime, and Animal Imagery,’ in Doing Race: 21 Essays for the 21st Century, eds. Hazel Rose Markus and Paula M.L. Moya. (New York: W.W. Norton & Company Inc., 2010): 444. 27 Ibid.: p. 444. 28 Anthony G. Greenwald, Mark A. Oaks, and Hunter G. Hoffman, ‘Targets of Discrimination: Effects of Race on Response to Weapon Holders,’ Journal of Experimental Social Psychology 39 (2003): 399, 403. © Slatton, Brittany C.; Spates, Kamesha, May 13, 2016, Hyper Sexual, Hyper Masculine? : Gender, Race and Sexuality in the Identities of Contemporary Black Me Taylor and Francis, Farnham, ISBN: 9781472425133 40 Hyper Sexual, Hyper Masculine? fled the scene and was apprehended by police 170 miles from the crime scene the following day. The teenagers did not return fire and no weapons were found in their vehicle or on their person.29 Additionally, there was no evidence to suggest the teenagers threatened Dunn’s life; hence it appears Dunn overreacted because of his irrational fear and anger. Conclusion: Constrained Maneuvering Policies and laws are disproportionately applied to black men due to white normative expectations of criminality and hypersexuality. Micro-level social encounters with black men are shaped by these same normative expectations, which results in devastating consequences for them. Whites and other racial groups respond to them with unrealistic expectations, irrational fears, excessive arrests, and unjustified slayings. And policies and laws are disproportionately applied to Black men, resulting in astronomical incarceration rates. In fact, more black men are currently behind bars, ‘on probation or parole’ than were in bondage in 1850.30 The 2008 Pew Center Report found that ‘1 in 15’ black men and ‘1 in 9’ from age 20 to 34 are currently incarcerated. Black men account for 12 percent of the total US male population but 39 percent of the prison population, whereas white men account for 65.6 percent of the total male population and only 36.1 percent of the prison population.31 Back men are also on death row at an overwhelmingly disproportionate rate to their percentage in the U.S. population. A recent study found that blacks represent 41 percent of those currently on death row.32 Upon release, many formerly incarcerated black men are disenfranchised from voting and discriminated against in housing and education.33 Additionally, black men, whether previously incarcerated or not, are eliminated from job applicant pools. A 2003 study by sociologist Devah Pager found that employers are far less likely to call black male applicants with a criminal record for entry level positions than white applicants with a record. And even more devastating, employers are more likely to give a call back to white male applicants with a criminal record than black 29 Larry Hannan, ‘Murder Trial in Jordan Davis Killing Delayed Until Next Year,’ The Florida Times Union, http://jacksonville.com/news/crime/2013–08–15/story/murdertrial-jordan-davis-killing-delayed-until-next-year (accessed 19 September 2013). 30 Michelle Alexander, The New Jim Crow: Mass Incarceration in the Age of Colorblindness (New York: The New Press, 2010): 175. 31 Lawrence D. Bobo and Victor Thompson, ‘Racialized Mass Incarceration: Poverty, Prejudice, and Punishment,’ in Doing Race: 21 Essays for the 21st Century, eds. Hazel Rose Markus and Paula M.L. Moya (New York: W.W. Norton & Company Inc., 2010): 327. 32 James M. Henslin, Mastering Sociology (Upper Saddle River, NJ: Pearson, 2014). 33 See Michelle Alexander, The New Jim Crow: Mass Incarceration in the Age of Colorblindness (New York: The New Press, 2010): 175.. © Slatton, Brittany C.; Spates, Kamesha, May 13, 2016, Hyper Sexual, Hyper Masculine? : Gender, Race and Sexuality in the Identities of Contemporary Black Me Taylor and Francis, Farnham, ISBN: 9781472425133 The Black Box 41 ones without a record.34 The findings are rooted in employer’s perceptions of black men as criminals or having the potential for criminality. Black men find themselves in a unique quandary, their agency for developing their identity is constrained by a social structure that has already defined them and punishes them for the threat of hypercriminality and hypersexuality. How can black boys and men develop a healthy identity when white society has negatively defined them before they can define themselves? Let us once again revisit the George Zimmerman trial to elucidate this point. To consider an alternative to the acquittal of George Zimmerman one would have to acknowledge the potential for Martin’s fear that night. One would consider Martin’s fear for his life and hence the reasonableness of his running and then using force against a potential threat. However, American society constructs black boys and men as the criminal threat. And for young men like Martin, running from an unknown man does not represent a scared teenager, but a potential suspect. To Zimmerman, Martin was a criminal the moment he saw him and Martin paid for this expectation with his life. 34 Devah Pager, ‘The Mark of a Criminal Record,’ American Journal of Sociology 108 (2003): 937–975. © Slatton, Brittany C.; Spates, Kamesha, May 13, 2016, Hyper Sexual, Hyper Masculine? : Gender, Race and Sexuality in the Identities of Contemporary Black Me Taylor and Francis, Farnham, ISBN: 9781472425133 This page has been left blank intentionally