"I had to believe that it would work out, for it to work out." - Issa Dee.
I know there are other people out there like me - ones who used to look up at the stars when they were kids and hoped that their dreams would actually come true, and are now adults with that same hope. People whose dreams seemed so unattainable to the closed minds of people around them: Creatives. Being a creative is already hard enough, in a world where creativity isn’t “profitable,” but being a Black creative is even harder. So to have the honor of looking at my TV every week, and get lost in the world that Issa Rae created, feels like a dream come true, even if it’s not mine (yet).
Insecure. What an excellent piece of Black television. As a young adult, as a Black woman (a very awkward one at that), an aspiring filmmaker, a music lover - this show is monumental. I’m so glad I got to experience it in real time. From the music, to the acting, to the cinematography, to the costume design, to the writing, this show is truly an exceptional body of work that deserves all of its flowers.
Insecure popped up at the perfect time - for a while, there’d been a bit of a drought in terms of honest, raw, Black TV shows. Not to be divisive, but shows like How To Get Away With Murder and Scandal, for example, weren’t very relatable (I mean, c’mon, which one of your homegirls is secretly running the country while getting her back blown out by the President of the United States? Yeah, didn’t think so). The authenticity of its storytelling and premise made for a very relatable, yet hilarious show.
In my own journey, one of the reasons that I decided to move away from wanting to take the traditional route of going to film school (besides not having the money), is because I realized that in film school, I would only be studying film from a white, male-centric perspective, which doesn’t do a lot for me in terms of wanting to tell stories about Black people - and get it right. Steven Spielberg can’t teach me about what colors and technical settings need to be achieved to properly light dark skin. Ron Howard’s work can’t teach me how to convey certain emotions and feelings visually when adapting a piece of Black feminist literature to film.
When it comes to the visuals of Insecure, I can confidently say that this is a show where everyone understood the assignment and executed it very well. I don’t know what kind of magic the directors, DPs and cinematographers have, but I pray they never lose it. Their respective eye(s), combined with the lighting and the always-flawless makeup, always had the cast looking all buttery and moisturized. ALWAYS.
Insecure covered a lot of topics that affect the Black community through its characters’ experiences, or even just minor characters, without being too preachy and without turning the topics into roadkill, with an effortless brand of humor and comedy seen in shows like Curb Your Enthusiasm, Sex and the City, Master of None, etc., but hadn’t really been explored for shows centered around Black people. It’s a show about Black people but isn’t a “Hey White people! This is what Black people go through!” kind of show. It presents a very neutral position with some of these topics, which is a very genius move because it leaves room for discussion, which gets people talking. Absolutely brilliant. A good example of this is mental health. In season one, Lawrence is struggling with a possible depressive episode, which is completely understandable as he’s in a very weird, confusing place in his life. The signs are definitely there, especially in terms of how he shows up in his relationship with Issa. But it isn’t demonized, nor is it presented as a teachable moment. It’s just used as a tool to tell a story between two people who love each other but aren’t quite sure how to navigate this very normal thing. It’s also presented to us at the end of season 1 where Molly runs into an old friend who reveals that she is in therapy. Molly tells Issa about this at her fundraiser with the intent to poke fun at the friend, but Issa challenges this and tells Molly (albeit with not so great intentions) that maybe she should consider going to therapy. Mental health and the prospect of going to therapy is definitely a work in progress, to say the least, in the Black community, but here it’s just presented as a conversation between two people - viewers can make of it what they wish. The way that the show equally balanced comedic elements, even tapping in to absurdist/surrealist comedy (through characters like Thug Yoda, Lawrence’s friend Chad, or even the show-within-a-show element), with dramatic moments (Issa and Lawrence’s breakup in season 1, Issa trashing her apartment in season 2, Lawrence experiencing plane turbulence after a heated argument with Condola in season 5), was a recipe quite like no other that we’ve seen in Black television, but also in television in general, which is one of the many things that make this show a monument.
Insecure also showcases one of the first times that dark skinned Black women are leading a television series and are well-rounded, fully-fleshed out, and flawed people. The nuances of Issa and Molly’s experiences filled a much-to-be-desired void in terms of representation of Black women in television - especially because most of our representations came from sitcoms on networks that couldn’t fully explore certain topics due to censorship - for example, Living Single would have been a COMPLETELY different show, had it aired on HBO or Showtime instead of Fox.
After watching the last episode last night, I am completely overcome with joy. The last episode perfectly wrapped up everything in the series - love, friendship, ha
ppiness, forgiveness, heartbreak, success and how we measure it, and really just coming into one’s own, as a young, Black person. The moment between Molly and Issa at Molly’s wedding is probably one of the best, if not THE best scenes of the series.
One thing I love about this show is that Molly and Issa’s friendship was the anchor throughout the entire series. As their lives changed, so did their friendship - they didn’t always handle conflict between them in the healthiest of ways, but to see them come back from hitting rock bottom as friends and be stronger than ever, brought tears to my eyes. As Black women, I truly believe that friendship/sisterhood is essential - we are all we’ve got in this world.
I wanted this to be all official and TV/journalistic critic-like, but I can really only speak from my heart; I just really have a soft spot for how beautiful this show is. I don’t say this about many people, because I feel like it dehumanizes the person, but Issa Rae is one of my heroes. As a shy, introverted and very awkward dark-skinned Black girl, Issa makes me feel seen, and I love that Insecure showed representation of different kinds of Black people without trying too hard. The show had even become a bible for me at one point - trying to make sense of my own life, career, and relationships as I definitely saw myself in Issa’s shoes multiple times throughout the series.
Now that the show has officially come to an end, it is safe to say that Issa Rae’s name is now among the greats, like Debbie Allen, Mara Brock Akil, Suzanne de Passe, Shonda Rhimes, Yvette Lee Bowser, and all of the other Black women who have made space for us in television. I hope that Issa Rae gets her flowers - and if you ever do see this Issa, Thank you. From the bottom of my heart. Thank you, for not giving up on yourself, for believing in yourself, and for showing us that dreams really do come true, and then some. I hope that one day, I can thank you personally for the impact you’ve made in my life as an Awkward Black Girl.
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