I Watched One of My Worst Fears Play Out on Television. It Was Just as Horrifying as I Thought It Would Be

Racism isn’t the shark; it’s the water.

Hey, this letter will refer briefly to sexual assault, intimate partner violence, suicide, and racialized violence. Please take care if and where you need it.

Bravo loves to capitalize on trauma. That’s literally what the network (and the entire reality television show industry) is based on. A fall from grace. Infidelity. Embezzlement. Addiction. If you have it, they want it; more specifically, they want to tell everyone who will listen about it. It’s either an open secret or a rarely known fact that some of the best Housewives memes¹ are the nexus of the most harrowing storylines.

This meme is why I started watching Housewives. The context is that Taylor (screaming) is in an argument with the rest of the women about her marriage, where her husband is abusing her and she’s abusing alcohol to cope. He commits suicide shortly after the season airs.

But it’s not just trauma that the Bravo network deals in; the franchises, just like pretty much all of reality television, are a microcosm for the real world. That includes real-world sexism, racism, colorism, homophobia, and everything else under the sun. But if you think Andy Cohen and the producers down at the Real Housewives don’t know how to gracefully handle such sensitive topics, you’d be gravely wrong. That’s why they hired top racial relations scholar Nicki Minaj to host the season six Potomac reunion when there had been mounting pressure from viewers to discuss the colorism allegations on the show.

Drama and trauma are one and the same on the network, which is why season nine of the Real Housewives of Atlanta revolved around Phaedra Parks accusing fellow castmate Kandi Burruss of drugging, entrapping, and raping another castmate, Porsha. The accusations were baseless, but that wasn’t revealed until the reunion. (Phaedra is a lawyer; I don’t know how she got away with this.) It’s why, when Salt Lake City alum Jen Shah went on the run from local police, Homeland Security, the FBI, state police, and NYPD, we also saw the Ring camera footage of law enforcement showing up to her house—where she wasn’t present—and pointing guns in her teenage son and nephew’s faces. Shah submitted that footage to the network, which made the decision to air it and flash back to it multiple times.

Burruss’ reaction to finding out her castmate and friend spread false rape accusations against her and her husband. A common gif reaction on Twitter (See also: the “who said that” meme)

That last example was the first time I had a strong emotional reaction to the show. After spending the previous year (and my life before that) watching the police beat Black people in the street and in their homes and seeing the lynchings that took place across the country, the last thing I expected to see during my hour of escapism was…that.

That brings me to last night when I decided to turn on the Real Housewives of New York season finale.

I don’t really know where to start, but we have to start somewhere. Maybe at the top of the season, where Brynn Whitfield calls her fellow castmate Ubah Hassan an angry Black woman. Yes, let’s start there.

The new cast of RHONY. Ubah and Brynn are top and bottom right respectively.

In an off-camera moment after an argument, Brynn allegedly tells Ubah to “use her words.” Words never seem to be Ubah’s problem, to begin with; the cast consistently criticizes her verbal volatility more than anything. Brynn admits to the camera that she told Ubah that she doesn’t want her to be an Angry Black Woman and that she wants her to marry her (white) boyfriend, that she wants him to marry her.

………………………………………………………… long ass negro sigh

Brynn is biracial. As I discussed last year via Kendrick Lamar’s beef with Drake, there are weirdos out there who only use their Black identity when it benefits them. Brynn seems to be one of those people, only talking about her Black heritage when she’s referring to her traumatic childhood or when she’s weaponizing it against the only unambiguously Black woman on the cast.

I HATE YOU SO MUCH RIGHT NOW

Ubah tries to level with Brynn. She does get mad, but only when she cares, English isn’t her first language (she’s originally from Somalia). Please don’t provoke her and don’t condescend to her. Throughout the season, Brynn continues to provoke and condescend to Ubah.

To be clear, Ubah does seem to have an anger issue. Last season, she ripped someone’s sunglasses off their face and yells over the other women during arguments. This is fairly normal Housewives behavior. Teresa Guidice flipped a table. Aviva Drescher threw her prosthetic leg across a room. Candiace Dillard Bassett threw a butter knife across the room at a dinner she hosted, and later, castmate Monique Samuels grabbed Candiace’s wig while it was still glued to her head. It’s not okay, but it is par for the course. I would also ask in earnest: if you knew someone had an anger issue, would you make it your hobby and personal mission to provoke them every chance you get?

For Brynn, the answer is yes. She spends the cast trip in Puerto Rico riling Ubah up. The two trade barbs for an entire evening in front of the other women. When Ubah removes herself from the situation, Brynn takes the chance to lie on her.

Earlier in the night, Ubah made the insinuation that Brynn slept with someone to get on the show. Brynn later stokes the argument by claiming that Ubah took it further and that this hurt her feelings because, at some point, she confided in Ubah that she had been raped. This is a serious accusation; making a claim that a woman—much less a survivor of sexual assault—slept her way into advancing her career is extremely dangerous, especially post-MeToo.

This is where things take a dark turn. With this new information, the women begin to shun Ubah. One castmate, Racquel Chevremont, is so disgusted by this information that she says she can’t even look at Ubah and encourages the other women not to tell her that Brynn has disclosed this new information. They all agree. But one cast member, Jessel Taank, decides that Ubah has the right to know.

Upon learning what had been said about her, Ubah cries out and becomes hysterical. She frantically runs to her other castmates, trying to find out the truth and convince them that she would never do something so insidious. At one point, she cries out, “May Allah strike me down and kill my firstborn if I did this.” The cast all agree that was the moment they knew something was wrong.

Ubah and Jessel remove themselves from the rest of the women, checking into a hotel. Afterwards, Brynn sheepishly tells the women that, “come to think of it, Ubah may not have clocked it,” meaning that Ubah may not have actually known about Brynn’s sexual assault. The women say this is the moment they knew that Brynn had lied to them. While they² don’t discredit what happened to Brynn, they also tie together all of the times she has told lies and created false narratives. The women are horrified.

As I was watching the story unfold, my body was frozen, and at some point, I was on the verge of tears. There was something about Ubah’s experience that felt uncomfortably familiar, and I sat with that feeling until the next morning when I started writing this and realized what it was: I have a fear of being accused of something I didn’t do. But it wasn’t until watching this episode of RHONY that I understood why.

I saw a quote once that read, “Racism isn’t the shark; it’s the water.” Meaning that racism is not some obvious villain, it is not a singular act. We are steeped in it, it is such a normal part of society that we may not immediately know when it is happening. These women were so quick to police and shun the only unambiguously Black woman on the cast. Throughout the season, they kept urging Ubah to use her words and stop being so combative, even when she was provoked. No one ever asked Brynn to stop bullying Ubah or to seriously call her out for continuously spreading lies. When Brynn called Ubah an angry Black woman, no one thought that was cause enough to sit her down and have a talk with her about internalized racism or colorism. They could not even conceive that Brynn’s actions were part of a longer pattern of racist behavior.

Throughout the season, Brynn perpetuates and reinforces two harmful stereotypes. The first is the "Angry Black Woman³" projected onto Ubah; the second is the "tragic mulatto" projected onto Brynn herself.⁴ At some point during their argument, Brynn sobs, “Why is it not okay for a Black woman to make money? Why is it not okay for a Black woman to be successful?” referring to herself. It was kind of amazing to watch someone utilize White tears while referring to their Blackness. This is immediately after she belittles Ubah’s successful modeling career, calling her delusional. The women all gather around her, consoling her and talking about how they can relate to how hard it is to be taken seriously as beautiful women of color.

Whitfield crying after her argument with Hassan

On the one hand, this is true—that is what a large part of the MeToo movement was about. On the other, give me a break. Most of these women are white or racially ambiguous with mixed heritage. They sat there consoling each other about how hard they have it with their light skin, light eyes, loosely textured hair, and being tall and/or thin. How devastating that must be, to live under the unbearable weight of their proximity to whiteness.

Meanwhile, they leave Ubah to literally fend for herself. She has to give the most impassioned defense, calling on her faith and an unborn child (Ubah’s storyline this season involved making the decision to undergo fibroid surgery and seriously consider having children in the future) to beg and plead with the women and rehabilitate her image.

I watched one of my worst fears play out through Ubah’s story. When you’re a Black woman, you’re constantly aware of it. When you’re a Black woman in living in the United Kingdom, you should pretty much abandon all hope of feeling normal for more than three days in a row. By nature, you stick out like a sore thumb, and you do your best to fit in as much as possible. A lot of the time, I am the only Black woman—sometimes the only Black person—in any given room I’m in.

Yesterday, I was on the bus home from work. When I walked up to the bus stop, I saw a group of teenage girls—three white, one Black. I got on the bus, and they trailed not far behind. The three white girls were quick to scurry to the seats across from me, all sitting next to each other and leaving the seat next to me open. When the Black girl sat down next to me, the three little bobble-headed bitches all started laughing at her. Because, you know…Black. “You guys…” she whined as they continued laughing. To them, it was a joke, and I don’t want to project anything onto that girl, but I could relate to that experience.

People will hurl their microaggressions, macroaggressions, and everything in between at you. They want to remind you that you’re different. They may love you, but they love you differently. They may accept you, but only certain parts. They may want the best for you, but only as long as it’s not better than their own.

It doesn’t really matter what you do either. You can wear your hair straight, grow out your nails and paint them the most effeminate shade of pink, stay out of the sun, and will yourself to be as pale as possible. Somehow, some way, there will always be someone to remind you of what you were born as and how embarrassing it is. And you could tell a million personal, painful anecdotes about it all and someone will always question your story, they will assure you that the person who made that racial transgression surely didn’t mean it, that it was a terrible one off rare incident, people don’t usually act like that here, that you’re just seeing it the wrong way, maybe you misheard them, maybe your own eyes are playing tricks on you, maybe you’re racially paranoid, so eager to be woke and victimized that you can’t see something so normal for what it really is. Shark. Water.

They also don’t realize how deeply their preconceived notions, internalized racism, and ignorance go. People love to make up shit based on what they think Black people do, think, and behave like, and then project whatever racist caricature onto Black people in real life. My favorite example of this is when Judd Apatow went on a Twitter tirade after Will Smith slapped Chris Rock at the Oscars. “He could have killed him,” Apatow Tweeted, shortly before admitting that he hadn’t actually seen the altercation happen and was nowhere near it. Viewers are doing the same to Ubah.

Calling Ubah a Somalian pirate and fantasizing about her getting violent at her imaginary child’s school…you cannot make this shit up!!! (apparently you can)

Other women of color may even join them. One minute your light-skinned bestie is rapping Not Like Us with you, and the next, she’s nodding along when someone calls you aggressive or ghetto just to save her own skin.

I don’t really have an ending to this. I’m more using this letter to process a new realization. I never knew why I was so afraid of being accused of something I didn’t do, but I see clearly now what I’ve been socialized to inherently know my entire life. Sometimes, it’s difficult to be a Black woman literally just existing without someone having an issue with you. If you’re unlucky enough to get caught in a situation like Ubah’s, you’ll likely be left to fend for yourself. You need to be lucky enough for at least one person to stand up for you, and you need a strong enough conviction in who you are to stand up for yourself.

I’m also now left to reexamine my interactions with the Black women I know and carry this new knowledge forward. Just like the rest of my entire existence as a Black woman, I can already feel both the blessing and the curse.

1. the ones that don’t involve Nene Leakes, of course

2. nor I

3. In which Black women are characterized as “ill tempered, illogical, overbearing, hostile, and ignorant without provocation.” You can read more about this stereotype and it’s effects here.

4. Mainly a literary and trope from 19th century American literature that can be found and interpreted in myriad ways since then. It refers to a mixed-race character, usually of African and European descent, portrayed as deeply conflicted, alienated, or doomed because of their mixed heritage and inability to fit neatly into either racial category. The trope is less common in contemporary media, but portrayals of mixed-race characters who are shown as struggling primarily because of their heritage are still normalized. You can read more about this trope and it’s effects here.