I am an American of Cuban descent, and I want you to know that I have fairly neat handwriting. Generally, I speak softly and without an accent. I have an appreciation for Latin music, from bachata to salsa, but I’ve also bonded with my girlfriend’s white Minnesotan father over Talking Heads. I think I’m supposed to be excited about this new ABC show, Cristela. It’s named after its lead actress/producer/writer, Cristela Alonzo, who is a comedian. Think—George Lopez, who you might recall also had a show on ABC once upon a time. Cristela’s title card is in one of those kinda-squiggly, crooked-lettered fonts; it reminds me of the burrito joint I went to now and then in college. Their logo was squiggly and lopsided, too, as if to say, “We sell fun Mexican food.”
The letters in the title give the impression of movement, because Hispanics are vivacious and loud, ostensibly. Like Cristela Alonzo—who is, not coincidentally, loud and Mexican—or at least she is every time she shifts into a thick accent to deliver a punchline (both in her standup comedy and in the new show). Yes, it’s a Mexican stereotype. And as far as it being an overall Latin thing, well. I’m not sure. The Dominicanos in my neighborhood (Washington Heights) can go either way. Cubans have a tendency to be loud, admittedly. For a couple of summers I worked as a landscaper at my old high school (do with that information what you will); I worked with a Venezuelan, a Puerto Rican, a Guatemalan, a Mexican, a Cuban, and on and on—the volumes were as well-mixed and varied as a Timbaland album. The Mexican fellow was a bit of a mumbler. At any rate, I don’t think I’ve actually met anyone like Cristela Alonzo.
I can tell you one thing that’s true about a lot of Cubans: we’re skeptics. Particularly when it comes to figureheads. (Because, you know: Castro, Che, etc.) So whenever I hear about a Latinos supposedly blazing a trail for other Latinos in _______ (television, movies, music, politics, academia, etc.), I take a deep breath and prepare for the worst. Any Latin “making progress” in music is either a sexy chanteuse (Ariana Grande notwithstanding) or a smoldering Ricky (from Martin to Ricardo). Any Latin making progress in politics is the stuff of American Exceptionalist wet dreams—their parents came to this country with five bucks in hand, bootstraps, backbone of this country, and so on. Latinos in comedy? Hm. George Lopez, Carlos Mencia, and now Cristela Alonzo. Over roughly fifteen years, how has Latin comedy sussed out? Let’s see:
“When we [Mexicans] buy a house, we add on to the house and we never hire an architect or a contractor… I gave my check to Ray the Roofer and 16 mexicans showed up. I said shit! I could’ve done that!”—George Lopez
“Mexican people are called beaners, okay? I said it! That’s right, I said it! I am a funny motherfucker!”—Carlos Mencia
“A friend of mine sent me flowers to congratulate me on something, and I didn’t know what to do with them when I checked out [of my hotel]… So I asked my boyfriend, and he was like ‘Oh, just give them to the maid.’… What if there’s more than one maid? He’s like ‘Oh, well just give each maid a rose.’ What the hell is this, The Mexican Bachelor?”—Cristela Alonzo
Oy.
I can appreciate that network TV has thrown us Latinos a bone every now and then. My grandparents got by on Spam, powdered eggs, and milk when they first came here (before Government Cheese was a thing), so I suppose I should expect Latin American comedy to squeak by for a while on “Mexican joke” stand-ups and sub-Big Bang-level sitcoms while the rest of the television world enjoys a buffet of options—everything from How I Met Your Mother to Louie to Veep. Am I ungrateful? Or do I, like a character from any Oscar Wao knockoff published in the past five years, just aspire for something more?
A little over a decade ago, Latin Americans in TV were promised that ineffable “more”, George Lopez was leading the charge with his aforementioned sitcom on ABC. How optimistic USA Today was to name Luis and The Ortegas as examples of a coming change, just before Fox pulled a Fox and killed the two shows in their cradles. Things seemed brighter in the world of children’s programming, with The Brothers Garcia and Taina on Nickelodeon; the former lived a pretty long life. Maybe its Wonder Years—meets—Malcolm in the Middle setup gave it some crossover appeal; while the latter, an unexpected precursor to Disney’s (predominantly white) current crop of “aspiring child star” sitcoms, was inexplicably canceled despite earning Nickelodeon some of its highest ratings in years.
Overall, these shows had their issues. For one, the now-conspicuous shortage of women, and for another, both the used that godawful font. But it seemed Latinos might feasibly carve out a space much in the way that Black Americans did. Black representation on TV, at least as far as comedy, started with stereotypes (Sanford & Son), blossomed into a bigger bouquet of characters and types (from Good Times to The Cosby Show, eventually to In Living Color and, hell, Urkel), and perhaps ending with the demise of UPN.
Once cable muscled in on network TV’s territory, the big boys decided to play it increasingly safe, which, of course, means whitewashing. So now, faced against cable and online distribution, is network TV willing to take risks with a nuanced portrayal of Latinos, or Blacks, or any other “minority”?
Hell no. In the world of network TV, Latins are all Mexicans. That, or Sofia Vergara. Blacks are still navigating what it’s like to be movin’ on up; affluent, suburban life is a source of profound confusion for them (see black-ish). And the Chinese? They’re humble, bumbling fools with no business sense. Nevermind that most Chinese immigrants in the US today represent China’s upper class—let’s set our Chinese immigrant story in the ‘80s, so that our viewers in Middle America can pretend China’s still diabolically Communist.
At the present, network TV is neither willing nor able to host a minority revolution of any kind, at least as far as comedy goes. At worst, minority characters will be Disney Ethnic, with stereotypical “minority” backstories that play either too much or too little a role in their respective programs for them to be truly memorable. At best, they can get cozy in an ensemble in a somewhat niche show, like Parks and Rec, Brooklyn Nine-Nine or Community.
I can at least admit that I’m a little optimistic for The CW’s Jane the Virgin. Its premise relies on Catholic Latin tropes, to be sure; but between Cristela’s insistence on associating Latin mothers with maids, and Jane the Virgin’s straight-faced engagement with that unique variety of Catholic guilt, mutated from Latin America’s endlessly fraught colonial history—well, I can tell you firsthand as a Cuban American with two older sisters, Jane the Virgin has the right idea. And given the direction of feminist discussion over the past few years, I have no doubt it’ll resonate with a wider audience.
You want a good “ethnic” story? Ask any “minority” about his or her life, and tell them to be as specific as possible, and you’ll get a good one somewhere in there. My family alone has too many. If you want touchy racial tripe, well—I’m Latin American, but I’ve been mistaken as Jewish, Lebanese, Greek, Italian, and Arabic (especially when I have a beard). Yet I go through many of the same “twentysomething” issues you’d see in any Michael Cera flick (or on Girls). What’s more, as a Cuban, I’m more privileged than many of the Dominicans I live near, which is an endless source of insecurity and guilt. Elsewhere, my sisters are two Latinas in a small town in North Carolina (think pearls and petticoats).
The suburb we grew up in looks like any other suburb in the whole country (save for the palm trees), and yet I still have a hard time finding anything resembling us on TV. Cristela only makes me more doubtful that I ever will. George Lopez was supposed to be our Mexicano messiah over a decade ago, yet here we are in 2014, with Sofia Vergara at the Emmys standing on a rotating pedestal that might as well have a placard at the bottom, like you’d find at the zoo, to be ogled by the millions.
But I’m [practically] over it. The unfathomable masses who still watch Modern Family can have network TV. (After the Emmys, I’m convinced that Modern Family’s viewership is a single Cthulhu-like creature that’ll raze the globe, Cabin in the Woods style, if the show is ever canceled.) It’s no longer the frontier that paved the way for Blacks in entertainment once upon a time; hell, I would guess that Orange Is the New Black has told more minority-centric stories in a single season than network TV has in a decade, maybe more.
Beyond that, I’m looking to the little guy: webseries like East WillyB, which boldly addresses sensitive topics like gentrification and the divisions between different Latin communities. No Glorias or Cristelas to be found. Networks are crumbling; emigrate to the internet, already.
Nicholas Milanes has written for Paste, Kill Screen, and Impose Magazine, among others, in addition to writing and editing for Gear Patrol. After a messy breakup with Brooklyn, he is enjoying a healthy relationship with Upper Manhattan. Sometimes he updates his website, but not often. Same goes for Twitter.
