The Huxtable Effect

Admittedly, I'm still riding on a 'Bama High resulting from Tuesday night's historic vote which will catapult the first African American family into one of the most coveted addresses on the planet, 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. I beamed as President-elect Barack Obama took the stage, with his camera-ready family following him shortly after, looking so smart, polished and poised, I couldn't help but swell with pride, well wishes and triumph. It was, of course, A Long Time Coming.

I watched as the news programs projected images of a tearful Jesse Jackson, who by that time, I'm sure, had reconciled any animosities or doubts about passing the torch to the fine young upstart, who's not just OUR Messiah, but the new leader of our country. The world. The whole shebang. I felt the tears of Oprah, the lyrical eloquence of statements made by Toni Morrison and Maya Angelou, the touching account of the sweat, tears and plaintive songs of the slaves who helped, by no small measure, to build the White House, and never dared dream that one of their own would inhabit the tower of power as tenants, much less as servants, as told by Donna Brazile. The countless images of jubilant multi-cultural crowds hugging and kissing each other, the slack-jawed awe of my black brothers, sisters and elders, who had not fully embraced the initial shock of the significant stride our race had just taken. The sight of a mass of Harlemites dancing the Electric Slide in unison. The joy of Kenyan natives as they celebrated the ascent of one of their own. The hopes and dreams of all young American children of color realized, no longer deferred. The stinging boos of the opposition, as they came to terms with their defeat and subsequent disappointment. I took no glee (okay, maybe some) in their or John McCain's pain as he faced his supporters while the sun set on his bid for the position of Top Gun. I hoped they would not see this as a defeat at all. I know that's a tall order.

But most of all, I was thinking about Cliff Huxtable and TV's fall season of 1984.

That was the year I believe all of this was foretold. The Cosby Show made its debut and quickly became a phenomenon and the template for The Perfect Family. It was hard for me to grasp this alien species of color and prosperity, the likes of which I hadn't known since the days of The Brady Bunch, which I always pined to be a part of, only to ultimately identify more with the JJs, Thelmas and Michael Evanses of my youth. The Huxtables had everything I'd yearned for: Love; tough and tender, values, education, good clothes, and a fab-ass house. They never seemed to run out of food or laughter, the rent was always paid and the electricity was never shut off. But oddly, they had no discernible religious ties. I suppose this was a conscious decision so as to make them more palatable to as many cultures as possible. I struggled with my frustration with their affluence and too-perfect (white) ways, while alternately feeling extreme envy. The saving grace of the show for me was the fine balance of refinement with the just the right touch of attitude and love for their roots. At the time, I wasn't aware that Bill Cosby trying to Make A Point with the show he created. Later on, I begrudgingly accepted its appeal and massive success due to the mostly white audience it drew, not knowing until much later, of course, the impact it would have. Because I do think that it served as a primer for how mainstream American society would come to view us in terms of the possibilities of our higher leadership abilities in some way. It was a seed, if you will.

Could it be that the show was responsible for forming the opinions of a large segment of white middle class 80's babies and young adults that loved and watched the show, culminating in the success of the Obama campaign to some degree? Yes, I believe so. And have we, as African Americans absorbed any of the positive messages and attributes of the show's characters? Yes.

And no.

Mr. Cosby has taken a lot of heat lately in terms of pointing out what we see as our weaknesses, much to our detriment, some argued. He criticized the lack of education as a top priority over our preoccupation with material gain. He pointed out our children's obsession with knowing all of the sometimes insipid, salacious and misogynist lyrics to the latest rap and R&B jams on the radio, yet possessing an almost willing ignorance for literature and reading. He argued that we should take more responsibility for our current state in terms of teen pregnancies, sexual attitudes and general apathy towards higher learning and "selling out" versus "keeping it real". So why all the animosity towards Bill C.? President-elect Obama himself has addressed the issue of absentee fathers during his campaign, and on Election Eve, spoke with MTV's Sway where he admonished young black brothers, telling them to "pull up your pants". Point check. His remarks signaled the need for deeper introspection. Hell, some of us even got it twisted when we thought that Dave Chapelle was laughing "with" us. I think he, too, was trying to tell us something. The shit he pointed out was funny though. After the election, even DL Hughley made the statement that we no longer had to aspire to just be rappers, singers, actors, or ball players. These are all admirable professions, mind you, and I'd go bat shit crazy if my idols in these fields ceased to exist! But we also no longer have to idolize pimps, thugs and criminals because that's the "only way out" or The Man held us down. Pure and simply, now we are and can be The Man, if we so choose to be, that is. Whatever road we decide to take is solely on us, at this point

Tuesday November 4, 2008 has revealed that there can be no more excuses. Nobody is holding us back. We have choices today. The opportunities are endless. Let's look back at that little show from '84 not as an ancient relic, but cull some of its values, apply them, and push FORWARD. That's where we're going, whether some of us like it or not. It's time to grow up. Remember when Cliff gave Theo that lesson on adulthood and living on his own using Monopoly money? Priceless.

So, with all due respect to the BamaMan, Heathcliff Huxtable has indeed made it to the White House. We voted in record numbers. All of us. All ethnicities were well represented. Especially blacks, most of us first time voters realizing that our vote does count. Let's please keep it up front and realize that as thrilling though it may be, our new president is really a paid employee who just happens to hold the head position. He's there to satisfy the interests of many others, and not just our own. And it's going to be fucking hard for him. But for the first time for many of us, there is hope. Damn, I wish my dad were here to give me a hug.