52 pages • 1 hour read
Jackie Sibblies DruryA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
Content Warning: The source text and this guide contain descriptions and discussions of racism, race, and Black racial stereotypes.
“But what if I just like to look at you?”
In this quote, Dayton startles Beverly; she senses that she is being watched and discovers that her husband is looking at her, having entered quietly. This exchange conveys their sweet, loving marriage, but her sense that someone is watching her draws attention to the much larger surveillance that is being carried out by the audience.
“She’s family. And family is everything.”
This quote is Beverly’s response to Dayton’s chagrin at the news that she invited her sister. This oft-repeated sentiment of Beverly’s carries the essence of a trite platitude that borders on meaninglessness, but it is also a universally trite statement that generalizes the family onstage, making them relatable to anyone of any race who values family in a similar fashion.
“And I’m exhausted. Now, don’t get me wrong. I can’t wait for college. But my Soul is exhausted. I need some time away so that I might replenish myself and gain valuable life experience if I am to truly flourish in academia.”
Keisha confides in her Aunt Jasmine about her desperate need for a break before college, which her mother, Beverly, fully opposes. Just like much of the other conflict presented in the first act, this small, budding source of conflict is exceedingly minor, particularly when contrasted with the issues introduced by the white characters in the third act. Keisha is smart and accomplished, and her motivations for wanting a gap year are reasonable; however, they are ultimately not enough to constitute drama for the entertainment of The Voyeuristic White Gaze.
“I love these women. Joy. And Dancing and Singing! My future just looks so big and bright, I can’t wait for it to hurry up and Get Here. I want to know all there is to know and be all there is to be. But. But I feel like something is keeping me from all that. Something…Yes, something is keeping me from what I could be. And that something. It thinks that it has made me who I am. It’s…It’s just so confusing.”
As Keisha describes, the Frasier family is warm, loving, and very functional. Keisha is a happy teen who feels optimistic about her future, and the idea that she could be pregnant is absurd, as she expresses in the third act. Her family deserves the credit for raising her to be who she is, but alone of all the characters onstage, Keisha perceives that something is not quite right. Thus, her unease draws attention to the weight of the white gaze, and the way white people try to credit themselves with her success. The last sentence of this quote foreshadows Suze’s stereotyped portrayal of Keisha’s grandmother, in which she will claim that she knows Keisha as well as Keisha knows herself.
“JIMBO. I thought you said race is a construct.
SUZE. It is.
JIMBO. So.
SUZE. So just because it’s a construct doesn’t mean that it isn’t real.”
Neither Jimbo nor Suze fully comprehend the oft-repeated statement that race is a social construct, representing a very common misunderstanding, particularly among white people. To Jimbo, the statement means that race is fictional and is therefore open to tampering or redefinition, and that people of color can choose to avoid oppression altogether. Suze’s understanding is much more accurate, but she later demonstrates that her well-meaning, neoliberal understanding of race as a social construct cause her to approach Black people as if they are children whom she understands more fully than they understand themselves.
“It’s interesting, you know? Like if I was going to like Become a different race, and I could choose that. It would be like…I mean based on what criteria, you know? Like if I just think about, like, would I want to choose a race that is more like who I actually am? To express something essential about myself? OR would I want to choose a race that is totally different from who I actually am. To like, try something new. I feel like I would want to try something that expresses more of who I am, maybe. Like on the surface sometimes, I think people think I’m boring, but actually, like my true self is this like wild person. You know, like I have this hot, muggy river of uncut sensuality flowing deep down in my soul. So. Yeah, if I could choose to be a different race, I’d want to be Latinx.”
Mack’s approach to Jimbo’s question is in some ways more thoughtful than Jimbo’s, but his rambling response and the repetition of “like” as a filler word also demonstrate that his understanding of race and racial differences is no more nuanced. Mack wants to believe that he is more interesting than he is, as if he has a more exciting self underneath his bland exterior, which he isn’t allowed to express as his white self. Mack also insists on using the term “Latinx,” even when Suze responds with the word “Latino.” This part of the exchange is notable because “Latinx” as a gender-neutral term that arose in academic circles and was subsequently adopted in predominantly white academia; Latino/a people spoke against it, finding it awkward to pronounce and unnatural within Spanish syntax, suggesting instead the word “Latine.”
“And that’s what’s amazing—it’s like because they’re here, it’s like their identity is being made here. Like, most people are just what they are, you’re like, oh, that person is black that person is Asian, but with Latinx people it’s like, they don’t think, they just are what they are, like this pelvic, spicy, bright bold thing, they’re like making it right now and it’s intersecting with gender in like this amazing way, that is really really really…it’s just politically good, you know?”
Even under the guise of admiration, Mack’s understanding of Latino/a experiences and cultures is limited to stereotypes, and he also makes the condescending assertion that Latin American identity is wholly constructed in the United States, disregarding the fact that immigrants bring their own cultural practices with them and pass them down to the next generation. As Mack admits to Suze, he does not speak Spanish and has not traveled to any Latin countries, but he still believes that he knows what it feels like to walk through the world as a “Latinx” person. Moreover, Mack’s wish to become “Latinx” is an overgeneralization of 33 different Latin American countries, each of which has its own variety of cultures and practices.
“Because this question, it’s everything that is wrong with America. In any other place this question would be a question that is fun and charming to consider, but in America, this question, what race, it is a very boring question, because everything in America is race, race, race, all the people talk is race, race, race, and no people are saying nothing new about race.”
Bets’s response to Jimbo’s question offers another echo of unproductive, neoliberal commentary about race. Her country of origin is not specified, although Suze notes that it is primarily white and European. Bets’s comment reflects the fact that as the problem of racism in the United States has become more internationally discussed, people from smaller and more homogenous countries have mirrored the attitudes of people from homogenous communities in the United States by derisively claiming that the problem stems from the constant conversation about race. Thus, Drury implicitly observes that those who are not affected by racism are the first to find the conversation tiresome. She likewise suggests that avoiding the topic is also a form of privilege.
“The food is different, the culture is different, the look of the people is different. […] That is what race is, no? […] Americans are obsessed with race. […] But they don’t know what this is.”
Despite Bets’s tirade about her misunderstanding of the ways in which race functions in the United States, her definition of the term attempts to be pragmatic and clear and to make the concept of race material and tangible. However, her definition also demonstrates a lack of nuance that makes it far too simplistic for the complexities of American race. In the United States, a person whose outward appearance might lead some to assume that they are white might actually be Black. Similarly, a visibly Black person may have no connection to Black-centered culture or food. Thus, Drury uses the subtext of this conversation to suggest that racial identity exists on multiple three-dimensional spectrums, as do ethnicity and the experience of racial oppression.
“I would choose to be African-American, actually. Because I was raised by. My family, we had a… but she was more than that, she was this lovely… Her name…(Quavering) Her name was Mabel. And she… I’m sorry. I just loved her. Because my parents, they were great—they’re great parents, but I can see now that they were… reserved. But when I was a kid, I… couldn’t understand why they didn’t. Anyway. The person in my life who expressed love to me in a way that I could feel it, that was Mabel.”
Suze believes that she has an authentic claim to Black culture because she was primarily raised by a Black woman whom her parents hired to care for her. Suze is careful to avoid words like “nanny” or “maid,” and the very absence of these terms implies that they are a more accurate description of Mabel’s role in the household. Black women have been brought into white households for centuries to act as caretakers for white children, sometimes even wet nursing them. This role was initially carried out by enslaved women, and later by low-wage domestic workers. Regardless of whether Mabel’s love for Suze was genuine, her presence in the household was transactional; she was paid to nurture Suze, and Suze was, along with her parents, Mabel’s employer. Suze notes that Mabel cooked almost all of Suze’s meals until her college years, but she doesn’t mention what became of Mabel after that, and the implication is that Mabel would have lost her job once Suze left the house.
“I don’t think that is O.J. Simpson. You’re clearly thinking of a different African-American actor. It’s something called Racial Blindness. It’s like if you aren’t raised around people of a certain race, your brain is less—you’re not able to distinguish individual features, so you’re more likely to confuse different people of the same race.”
Suze is responding to Bets’s description of a movie scene featuring O. J. Simpson, which she assumes is incorrect when none of her companions can name the film. She provides the notion of racial blindness, also called racial face blindness, as a way to excuse this perceived mistake. While the phenomenon is real, it is more of a social problem than an acceptable state of being. Thus, although Suze is attempting to “enlighten” her companions with her definition, she also betrays distinct elements of understated racism by implying that the phenomenon is natural and acceptable. Although none of the characters recalls the film title, Bets is talking about Naked Gun (1988), which did feature O. J. Simpson in the scene that Bets describes.
“But I wouldn’t want to be a rich black person. You know? It wouldn’t be… very authentic. I’m just thinking critically about it and, don’t you think that once a person has enough money, their race just kind of disappears and they’re just rich?”
Jimbo’s attempt at critical thinking leaves much to be desired, as his statements show very little understanding of how racism functions in the United States. Class oppression and privilege are issues that differ greatly from racial oppression and privilege, although they intersect at points and often compound each other exponentially. Jimbo’s tone-deaf assertion that being a “rich [B]lack person” would not be “authentic” reflects his misconception that poverty is somehow a singularly authentic experience of Black identity. Likewise, his claim that wealth negates race and cultural identity falsely suggests that racism is no longer an issue for Black people of a higher social class.
“In America you are obsessed with race, and you never never think about class. The rich profit from the racism. The poor get nothing from it.”
Although Bets’s understanding of race and racism in the US is flawed, she does emphasize the country’s widespread inattention to class, drawing attention to the idea that race is seen as incontrovertible while classism is based on a status that seems variable. Bets’s comment therefore highlights the idea that racial disparity serves as a distraction from the exploitation of the poor by the wealthy.
“He’s so possessive of her. […] He’s like, Don’t give wine to my woman. That’s controlling, isn’t it?”
After Beverly faints onstage, Jasmine tries to bring her a glass of wine, but Dayton insists that she needs water. Mack, like the other white characters, has been more interested in their own misguided conversation about race than in the Black-centered narrative onstage, and he only pays attention to the play occasionally. Had he been watching more attentively, he would have known that Dayton and Beverly have a loving, equal relationship. In this moment, Mack uses one random detail to reinforce a racial stereotype, superimposing a false interpretation on the scene. The tiff between Jasmine and Dayton simply reflects their tendency to clash combined with the common sense that someone who just fainted should drink water rather than wine.
“You’re a prissy little girl, […] and if you think you could be a black woman, you need to be able to be a fucking man, and like, step up.”
Jimbo attacks Suze, beginning with misogyny and ending with misogynoir, a term defined as the intersection between misogyny and anti-Black racism against Black women. He infantilizes Suze and criticizes her for her femininity, calling it a weakness. Then he perpetuates a stereotype of Black womanhood by denying Black women’s femininity. Jimbo is criticizing Suze in retaliation for her unwillingness to agree with his accusation of infidelity against Dayton, who has shown no signs of being unfaithful. Jimbo is trying to project a stereotype on Dayton, and he gets aggressive in response to Suze’s calm disagreement.
“SUZE. It’s a racist dance where black people pretend to have easy lives so we don’t feel bad about how bad their lives actually are.
JIMBO. A cakewalk is just when black people pretend to be rich white people.”
Jimbo tries to crack the same joke twice. When Keisha brings in the burned cake and when Dayton brings in the store-bought cake, Jimbo calls these actions “cakewalks” (67). A cakewalk was a popular act in minstrel shows. It was based on a dance performed by enslaved people, which was in turn satirizing a dance that rich white people would perform. It was similar to musical chairs (without the chairs), and the winner’s prize was a cake. Enslaved people performed cakewalks as a mockery of rich white people, which the actual rich white people found highly entertaining. Calling the actions of the Black characters onstage a cakewalk is therefore Jimbo’s way of insinuating that the onstage family is pretending to be white.
“No, everything is racist now, which means that nothing is racist now.”
Jimbo uses a commonly repeated slippery-slope fallacy as a way to dismiss racism altogether. As race discourse in the 21st century became more nuanced in identifying microaggressions, internalized racism, and unconscious prejudices, many have utilized this statement to refuse to acknowledge the fact that racism is constructed and upheld by small acts of everyday bias. When dissected, Jimbo’s statement makes no logical sense; one act of racism affects the oppressed group, and multiple acts of racism affect the oppressed group even more profoundly.
“Oh, Keisha, I understand you, more than you realize. I’ve known you since you were born.”
Taking on the role of Mama, the party’s guest of honor, Suze takes up more space in the room than any of the Black characters who belong in the story. By inserting herself into Keisha’s aside to the audience, Suze invasively insists that she understands Keisha. By claiming that she knows and understands the experience of Blackness, Suze endows herself with a false sense of authority that automatically repulses Keisha.
“I’m telling you, if you load up your fork, you get a bit of that salty food on there with the food that isn’t seasoned, and it all balances out.”
Jasmine is coyly digging at her sister under the guise of a compliment, calling the potatoes too salty and the other food poorly seasoned, which fits with their contentious relationship. However, this insincere praise is also a metaphor for what is happening in the third act. If the Frasiers onstage are too salty and have too much seasoning, the white characters who infiltrate are unseasoned food, playing bland stereotypes that make no sense, but rather than balancing each other out, they become a confused and confusing melee.
“No no no. This isn’t the kind of beer you’d have. […] Don’t you have like… I don’t know a forty or something. Like a Colt 45?”
If Jimbo had paid attention to the play up to this point, he would know that the Frasiers had only been drinking wine and bottled beer. The insistence upon a 40-ounce Colt 45 represents yet another lazy stereotype of Blackness, and the cheap malt liquor hardly fits in the Frasers’ upper-middle-class suburban home. But when the white characters assert these stereotypes—Keisha’s pregnancy, the looming foreclosure, and Dayton’s drug and/or cheating problem—the stereotypes manifest onstage as real. Somehow, Beverly returns from the kitchen with an unlikely Colt 45, and this and other details imply that the imposition of racist stereotypes robs the people in question of agency and undermines their authenticity.
“As the black woman, the world tell me: shhh. Don’t be so proud. Don’t be so sexy. […] The world tell me that I am too much. Too loud. Too aggressive. Always. Too sassy. Always. They fear me because I feel too much. I think too much. But you know what? […] I am too much.”
When Bets enters as Mama, her performance is designed to contrast with Suze’s, for her showy and assertive mannerisms are much closer to the stereotype that Jimbo tried to press upon Suze. Moreover, Bets is having fun as a Black woman, glorying in her grand entrance and performance as if she is onstage at a jazz club. These over-the-top actions further emphasize the depths of the white characters’ racism.
“There ain’t no money for college, Keisha. […] That dream is dead. Dead!”
Jimbo inserts this absurd revelation, which is almost a mini parody of A Raisin in the Sun and the discovery that Walter lost the life insurance money that was, among other things, supposed to pay for Beneatha’s schooling. The “dream” refers to the Langston Hughes poem that lends A Raisin in the Sun its title, which asks, “What happens to a dream deferred?” (Hughes, Langston. “Harlem.” Poetry Foundation). The play about the Frasier family does not focus on hardship as A Raisin in the Sun does. Instead, it is mostly a sharp-edged comedy. However, because Jimbo sees poverty as an essential part of the Black experience, he imposes it on the narrative, and as with his request for Colt 45, the imposition makes it true.
“SUZE. We started off with nothing. Worked for everything we had. I worked my fingers to the bone, cleaning other people’s houses, […] just so, one day, I could buy my own.
BEVERLY. You never worked as a maid, Mama.”
As much as Suze thinks herself to be the most enlightened of the four white characters, she slips easily into the same hardship narrative that Jimbo is pressing. She rewrites the family’s history as if poverty is necessary to authentic Blackness, even if they have lifted themselves out of it. There is no reason to believe that the family has ever experienced poverty, and the few stories about Mama in her fancy clothes at special events suggest that they have not.
“FOOD FIGHT. Jimbo, Mack, Bets and Suze are the aggressors, for the most part. Surprising things happen. Some of it is silly, but eventually the silly gives way to violence that feels more consequential. Something is actually broken. The set feels destroyed.”
Drury’s stage directions leave directors plenty of latitude to invent the details of the apocalyptic food fight while still conveying the essential energetic shift in the scene. The food fight starts with Jimbo. By this point, the white characters have warped the narrative to give Dayton syphilis and accuse him of cheating on his wife. Jimbo throws food at Dayton but hits Bets, and Mack calls for a food fight. Significantly, the food they are throwing is from the meal that Beverly has painstakingly cooked to give her mother the perfect birthday celebration. Thus, the meal is destroyed, as is the meticulously clean house. When pushed by the four aggressors, everyone devolves into violence, and as a result, the Frasiers, who were a close family with normal conflicts, have been dismantled as well, their lives broken and destroyed for the sake of entertainment.
“I can’t think in the face of you telling me who you think I am with your loud self and your loud eyes and your loud guilt—I can’t hear myself think.”
Keisha, whose role within the onstage play includes the metatheatrical devices of soliloquys and monologues to the audience, is the only one who feels the weight of the white gaze and expresses her sense that something is wrong. She is about to graduate high school and is on the cusp of the life that she is molding for herself. At the beginning of the play, her two options were a gap year or immediate matriculation as a college student. These are both privileged positions that she has worked very hard to earn. However, the white characters decided to change the narrative, making her unexpectedly pregnant to increase the drama. As a young Black woman, Keisha is unable to live a normal life without the imposition of stereotypical expectations and assumptions.