Meeting Mr. Sambo: Exploring Racism in Entertainment History

When teaching about the history of America, from its 17th century foundations to the Newark of today, any educator and his or her students will have to confront the legacy of racism. It’s a disturbing topic, no doubt, but one that needs to be examined and reexamined because of its deep impact on America’s political, cultural and economic development. I’ve always believed that you cannot properly understand the greatness and the errors of this nation without a good, thorough understanding of this wretched concept.

In education, it’s easy to get caught up in any racism lesson from an emotional or personal standpoint. But I’ve found that when teaching high school students about it, it is best to begin by treating it from an exclusively historical standpoint. After all, just because a student may be African-American doesn’t mean they are any kind of expert on racism, no more than being Jewish means that a student has exclusive knowledge or authority to talk about anti-Semitism or the Holocaust. Racism in American history is a documented fact, and before any conversation or debate can begin on its past or present impact, personally or otherwise, you’ve got to examine some facts, categories and theories.

At Newark’s Arts High I’ve got a wonderful, motivated group of students to work with. I’m free, and in many ways, encouraged, to include artistic and cultural history in my lessons, and I frequently do. One of the most interesting lessons from recent weeks had to do with the legacy of racism in the arts, particularly the performance arts, throughout American history.

My primary aim with the lesson was to inform the kids, and get them thinking about the fact that racism in performance art is something that goes far back into our past. Beyond TV and movies, it reaches back to the nation’s once popular vaudeville shows and theaters that thrived in cities like Newark and New York as early as the 1830’s. And it was in these popular, raunchy and disorganized “shows” that the four most despicable, but notable African-American caricatures first appeared. And from that point until today, from movie cinemas to the marbled halls of power in Trenton and Washington, we must contend with their regressive, vile legacies.

Four. No more, no less. But these four caricatures would create a collective image in the minds of Americans of all colors and conditions of labor, of all levels of power and influence, of a dangerously inaccurate and oversimplified black population. These four caricatures are lies, but like others propagated years later in books like Hitler’s Mein Kampf, they’re important to know, because in history, lies matter as much as the truth. Sometimes, in fact, the lies matter more.

Early American playhouses and theaters, as I said before, were raucous locales. Far from the refined image that Americans have of live performance today, most theaters were places where common folk loudly gathered, screamed at each other and the performers, threw rotten fruits and vegetables and more or less got drunk. In a time before radio or television, these gatherings were one of the foremost sources of cultural education and indoctrination for Americans young and old, educated and ignorant. It’s where Americans first encountered Shakespeare (or some contorted version of his works) along with obscene limericks and actors in blackface. Twain wrote of them constantly, especially in his classic Huckleberry Finn. And it was in those performances that the aptly named Four Horseman of Racism were born and prospered.

I told my students that these four were actually two pairs. Two female stereotypes and two males…though there may be more; the domination of this foursome throughout American cultural history is undeniable.

On the female side, we have the first and most “beloved” or, at least by slave-owners and their later white supremacist successors, of our caricatures: Mammy.

Regardless of the play or work of art or literature that presented her, her attributes were almost always the same. Mammy was the asexual overweight, natural caregiver of the black community. While a mother herself, she lavished attention and affection on the white children under her care. Always a dedicated domestic, she would keep them tidy and disciplined while cooking up lavish meals. Mammy always had a gentle smile on her face and was usually the only black woman allowed in the white household, and from time to time was free to “speak her mind” if she dared (but always in the interest of the white children under her care…always). Mammy was a religious woman, a churchgoer, but she wasn’t without her moments of superstition that she shared secretly with children. She wouldn’t hurt a fly and bore her losses quietly. She knew her duties and despised disorder.

“Where do we see this character at work today in entertainment or consumer culture?” I asked. Students immediately recognized Mammy. Hands shot up…”It’s Aunt Jemima! I just had that syrup this morning!” one said. “It’s the Martin Lawrence character from that movie Big Momma’s House!” another shouted. Yes, true, all true, I told them. Beyond true; factual.

Mammy had a counterpart, typically called Jezebel. Named for a Biblical woman of questionable morality, this caricature was almost always a female black teen or young adult. Jezebel was overtly sexual, usually viewing her men as prey or conquests. She might be a mother, but she could have cared less about her children, unless she was screaming or beating them. She was the natural enemy of every self-respecting, disciplined white woman. Jezebel secretly lusted after, and had affairs with single and married white men, occasionally bearing their children and humiliating their honorable wives. Jezebel had a beautiful voice and could sing and dance, though she wasn’t very interested in productive entertainment. She was fit and beautiful, inappropriately outspoken and opinionated. Jezebel was cunning, but she was also an emotional mess. One moment she could be alarmingly seductive; the next a hysterical, cursing wreck. And most importantly, Jezebel was never interested in finishing school or holding down a job. No way. She was, in a person, the concept of Satanic disruption itself.

“Recognize her?” I asked. Again, hands shot up. Dramatic, heartfelt commentaries followed. “Sure we’ve seen her! That’s like every chick in every rap video!” said one student. Another student sadly added, “Didn’t Halle Berry win the Academy Award for playing that lady in that R-Rated movie my parents wouldn’t let me see? Oh yeah…Monster’s Ball.” A third student chimed in. “I hate to say it, because they clearly work really hard in real life, but you might be able to say that Beyonce and Rihanna present themselves, at least at times, as this character.” Other students immediately disagreed. One stated, “Beyonce has had a lot of positive roles too, and she sings of the high value of a black woman in many of her songs.”

The debate continued, as did the lesson. It was time for the students to meet one of the most infamous of all the caricatures, this one being male. It was time to introduce Sambo.  

Sambo in some ways was Mammy’s counterpart, but he had different qualities. Like Mammy he was older, slightly overweight and straightforwardly asexual. He was a tall, good humored and a frequent wanderer. Sambo adored children, and would spend hours singing and dancing for them. His voice was typically husky, much like what people now associate with Louis Armstrong and other older black men of his era. He was a natural cook and always savored the opportunity to demonstrate this skillset. He loved to serve, though Sambo did prefer his alone time. Almost always he was shown to have thick lips with a toothy, almost blinding white smile. He was affectionate, huggable and easygoing. When bad things happened, Sambo accepted them, frequently with an attitude of helplessness and resignation that he passed off as a form of wisdom. Not being very religious, his superstition defined him. His command of the English language wasn’t very good, but he was remarkably expressive. Still, he knew when to talk and when to shut up.

My honors class fell absolutely silent after meeting this character. One student, Lisa, stated, “I don’t understand…you just described Fat Albert, but that character was clearly invented by Bill Cosby, one of the most respected and successful comedians alive today.” And another added, “Isn’t that every male character that Eddie Murphy played after he was 40 years old?” I was really impressed when Jake, a drama major, brought up the fact that he had seen this character in “a lot of Disney movies, especially the earlier ones from when my parents were kids. Like that guy who was singing Zippity-do-dah…”

Jaws dropped further in class that day when I informed the students that the restaurant chain known as Denny’s was once called “Sambos.” Some, in fact, had gigantic figurines of smiling, grinning Sambos placed in front of their restaurants much like McDonald’s does with the “Golden Arches” today. You should have seen my students’ expressions when I showed them the pictures. “Now do you believe me? What kind of message was this image sending to everyone who drove by for all the years it was up?”

The fourth and final caricature was Nat, probably named for the famous slave rebel Nat Turner of the early 1800’s. Nat was portrayed as a young male black teen or adult, and like Jezebel he was fit and even athletic. Nat had a furious temper, was prone to violent acts and from time to time fell to the level of undisciplined lover or, if necessary, rapist. His target was every young female, but he preyed especially on white women. He was loud and prone to bragging. He despised honest work but yet would display remarkable efforts and labor in thievery and conspiracy and when fleeing authorities. He despised any form of deep thinking and zestfully bullied any fellow black man bent on learning or success. Once in his 20’s, Nat, in an obvious display of potent masculinity, fathered many children. He regarded them as burdens and would abandon them whenever possible. From a straightforward standpoint, for the sake of orderly society, almost every story that included him would inevitably conclude that his rightful place was in jail, or dead. In fact, the world might be a better place had he never have been born at all.

It took a second for the class to think about it. “Wait Mr. Kurz,” one student said after contemplating deeply, “you just described almost every major young black character in cinema in the past three decades,” while her neighbor added, “Didn’t Denzel Washington win the Oscar for a role like that in Training Day?” The student in front of her stated, “I just read a script for a part like that, now that I think about it…”

For the remainder of the period, the debate and conversation stormed on. Some students said that these caricatures no longer played a significant role in cinema, while others countered that they matter a great deal and have, in fact, increased over the past few years. Some students also responded by citing the many roles black actors had played “against this type,” in movies like Red Tails (featuring an Arts High alum!) and Glory. Both of those movies concern the dual struggles of African-American male soldiers against white discrimination at home and a vicious, genocidal opponent on the battlefield. 

I only have so much time for each class each day. I’ve got a large curriculum to cover. That’s the nature of life in any high school. I would have wanted to further discuss how these caricatures had prominently appeared in political cartoons and speeches throughout American history, from the debate over slavery to the Civil Rights Era to modern-day healthcare reform. But we had to move on. Still, I must admit, I was somewhat pleased when, upon spying on my students at lunch, I saw the debate continue. I got them thinking. “Mission accomplished,” I thought, at least, on that day.