She’s Gotta Have It. Raising Dion. Survivor’s Remorse. Girlfriends. These shows are but a glimpse into the Black shows we’ve seen get the boot over the years. Black television shows are woven into our collective consciousness; it’s where we as Black people can escape, and see ourselves reflected on screen. It’s where we can say, “I’m sorry I lied to you Martin,” and everyone understands the phrase. Yet and still, these shows are only memories now, victims of network and studio decisions to cut them.
January bore witness to the cancellation of Issa Rae’s Rap Sh!t after just two seasons, joining the somber cadence that shrouds other shows such as South Side severed after three seasons, Netflix’s The Get Down, and FX’s Kindred after a singular season, abandoned in the wave of cancellations.
The frequency in which we’ve seen these shows get cut on the showroom floor has been far more dense than its white counterparts, and it’s slowly beginning to be tougher to just enjoy the beauty of Black life on screen without fear of shows meeting an untimely demise. So much so that ESSENCE created a running list of Black Shows That Got The Axe in 2023.
Black stories find themselves dimmed by an incessant storm of premature farewells—Lovecraft Country, A Black Lady Sketch Show, and Love Is__, just to name a few. We see ourselves represented on screen only to become collateral damage in the name of budget cuts, leaving behind a void in the hearts of viewers who want to see Black life depicted on television.
From the Black viewer’s gaze, these show cancellations are more than just a disappointment, they serve as a powerful reminder of how fleeting cultural impact can be on TV. Shows with familiarity, that aren’t rooted in Black trauma, face an untimely eclipse, extinguished before their stories can truly unfold.
With Kindred, as reported by Deadline, the show debuted to “largely positive reviews” and did manage to secure a viewership. However, despite having an audience, it faced challenges in generating the level of buzz observed with its FX counterpart, The Bear. The disparity in the reception between the two shows underscores a dynamic where audience engagement and cultural relavence played pivotal roles in a show’s overall success — positive reviews and viewership alone might not guarantee the impact needed to secure a place in the cultural zeitgeist.
The lack of diversity in decision-making positions within the entertainment industry is a glaring issue. The scarcity of Black executives in key roles can lead to a fundamental misunderstanding of the unique narratives and significance that Black shows bring to the screen. Without representation at the decision-making table, these shows may struggle to secure the necessary support and advocacy for their continued production.
It’s why rapper and creative Vince Staples is championing his new Netflix series online in hopes of renewal. In response to a fan asking where are the remaining episodes of Staples’ eponymous show, he replied, “Netflix didn’t buy anymore episodes so make sure you hit that double thumbs up. Peer pressure worlds and I’m tryna re up.”
Staples isn’t the only Black creator who is speaking out either. Issa Rae also recently spoke out following Rap Sh!t’s cancellation. “I’ve had faith in the talent I have to captivate a very specific audience – and I think about that audience constantly,” she told Porter in a recent interview. “You’re seeing so many Black shows get canceled, you’re seeing so many executives – especially on the DEI [diversity, equity and inclusion] side – get canned. You’re seeing very clearly now that our stories are less of a priority.”
When traditional metrics like viewer ratings and ad revenue come into play, it leaves you to wonder – so many amazing shows, that had quality viewership, why do they end up executed? These metrics complicate the landscape for Black shows. The industry has done these shows such a disservice, by those metrics, because they don’t account for the cultural impact and relevance that they have.
“I’ve never seen Hollywood this scared and clueless, and at the mercy of Wall Street,” Rae told TIME. “Now these conglomerate leaders are also making the decisions about Hollywood. Y’all aren’t creative people. Stick to the money.”
When these shows end, it’s not just an anomaly, it’s cultural erasure. The stark absence of equitable representation and decision-making power for Black creators is apparent. The narratives birthed from the depths of Black experiences find themselves lost by those who lack the acumen to comprehend the subtleties that make these stories both authentic and indispensable.
In a post-SAG strike environment, it’s tough to forecast the viability of a lot of television shows, though there’s a stark contrast in the stakes for predominantly white shows like Grey’s Anatomy, now in its 19th season, or Law & Order: Special Victims Unit, on its 25th or even The Walking Dead, and it’s many iterations and offshoots. To put it in perspective, the longest Black running show, Soul Train, which began in 1971 and went off air in 2006. Following right behind it was The Jeffersons, which ran for 10 years, and ended in 1985.
As the canceled shows fade away, there’s a crucial moment for change in how Black stories are treated. This calls on both the entertainment industry and society to create an environment where these stories can thrive without facing early cancellation. Black viewers hold these stories dear, and they persist, ready for a revival that ensures their lasting impact in television history.