J Afr Am St (2013) 17:308–326

DOI 10.1007/s12111-012-9238-x
A RT I C L E S

Mammies and Matriarchs: Tracing Images of the Black

Female in Popular Culture 1950s to Present

Christopher J. P. Sewell

Published online: 29 November 2012

# Springer Science+Business Media New York 2012

Abstract The figure of the Mammy dominated American television in the 1940s and
1950s. As we transitioned into the twenty-first century, this imagery re-emerged as a
result of the Black male in drag. Tracing the development of this figure from the
1950s to the specific case of Eddie Murphy in drag, this paper examines how Black
Motherhood and the Mammy continues to be a part of the African American
cinematic experience.

Keywords Mammy . Eddie Murphy . Black motherhood

Introduction

Images of Black motherhood and domesticity have been a specific point of interest
and contention since the time of slavery. Since then, the Black female body, marked
by society and its conceptions of what it is and embodies, continues to operate within
the hegemonic order that defines America. Part of the perpetuation of these views in
society comes from popular culture. Stanley J. Lemons’ “Black Stereotypes as
Reflected in Popular Culture, 1880-1920” defines popular culture as “an exceptional
means for gaining an insight into what masses of people are thinking, feeling, and
dreaming. It is neither high or art culture, nor is it folk culture; but it is something in
between which is produced by the “entertainment industry” for mass consumption.”1
Darnell Hunt adds to this notion in Channeling Blackness: Studies on Television and
Race in America when he states “key cultural forms like television play a crucial role
in this ongoing meaning making … race as representation is so central to American
culture that we rely upon it on a day to day basis as we attempt to establish meaning

1
Lemons, J. Stanley, “Black Stereotypes as Reflected in Popular Culture, 1880-1920,” American Quarterly
Spring Lemons 1977:103
C. J. P. Sewell (*)
Vanderbilt University, 450 Piedmont Avenue, Apt. 1010, Atlanta GA 30308, USA
e-mail: [email protected]
J Afr Am St (2013) 17:308–326 309

in the countless media texts that vie for our attention.”2 Popular culture then acts as a
medium for viewers to not only engage but also internalize their feelings about those
groups with who have little contact with, ultimately forming stereotypes and other
views on the groups making them become a reality.
This paper will explore this process for two specific images associated with the Black
woman, that of the Mammy and the Matriarch, as it relates to their presentation in
popular culture. Starting by defining the Mammy and the Matriarch and their construc-
tion in society, I will then take a deeper look into the ways in which these two stereotypes
have manifested themselves for popular consumption, mainly on television during the
period of 1950 to the present. In “Television and the Black Audience: Cultivating
Moderate Perspectives on Racial Integration,” Paula Matabane notes that “television
has provided a conduit for the easy distribution of dominant values and images groups in
the past were relatively isolated from direct exposure to mainstream ideas and con-
cepts.”3 Through the medium of television, the mass public forms stereotypes or ideas
about those people who they do now know. Stuart Hall, in his book Representation:
Cultural Representation and Signifying Practices, defines stereotypes as follows:
“Stereotypes get hold of the few ‘simple, vivid memorable, easily grasped and widely
recognized’ characteristics about a person, reduce everything about the person to
those traits, exaggerate and simplify them, and fix them without change or develop-
ment to eternity”4 In examining the roles of the Mammy and Matriarch, I will take a
look at images and examples from Beulah, Julia, Good Times, The Jeffersons, The
Cosby Show, and The Nutty Professor. These shows and movie fall in a period of
history where Blacks strove to try and break free and rearticulate any notions about
what it meant to be a Black person in America. With that said, this paper will put
these images of the Mammy and Matriarch in conversation with their historical
context to evaluate how stereotypical imagery around these characters changed (or
adapted) in relation to the times in which they were performed.

Early Manifestations of the Black Female–Slavery—Early 1900s

The iconic figure of the mammy came to fruition during the time of slavery. In Black
Sexual Politics: African Americans, Gender and the New Racism, Patricia Hill
Collins speaks to the notion that issues of gender oppression were endemic to chattel
slavery. She asserts “Black women’s sexuality and reproductive capacity presented
opportunities for forms of sexual exploitation and sexual slavery (ultimate submis-
sion of the master/slave relationship.”5 While these groups did exist, Collins also
notes that another critical group came to light, that of the house slave: “In essence,
domesticated African Americans were the ones who have been stripped of their
predilection for unrestrained sexuality and violence (in other words their stereotypical
Blackness). These were the slaves who exhibited behaviors that made them suitable
to serve whites.”6 It is in this particular space that we find the Mammy.
2
Hunt (2005)
3
Hunt, 64
4
Hall (1997)
5
Collins 2005)
6
Collins, 57
310 J Afr Am St (2013) 17:308–326

In Representation: Cultural Representations and Signifying Practices, Hall looks

to the work of Swiss linguist Sassure and uses his notion of the signifier/signified. Hall
rearticulates the work of Sassure: “There was, he argued, the form (the actual word,
image, photo, etc.) and there was the idea or concept in your head with which the form
was associated. Sassure called the first element, the signifier, and the second element—
the corresponding concept it triggered off in your head—the signified.”7 As Hall asserts,
both of these are critical in the assignment of meaning to those who try to interpret the
object placed in front of them. In the case of the Black female body, this would
become critical in the construction of the Mammy (versus her more sexual counter-
part). As a result of the closing of the slave trade in 1808, the reproduction of the
slave community lied within those slaves who already resided in America. This only
fueled the need for Black women to come to being sexual objects as they were now
viewed for their potential to breed. It is here that we begin to see what Hall discusses
as fetishism, which “involved the substitution of an ‘object’ for some dangerous and
powerful but forbidden force.”8 In the case of the Black woman, her body became the
ultimate space to take out these desires that the white man had for her body. As hall
accounts in his discussion on the Hottentot Venus, there was an increasing level of
intrigue at the Black female body and her sexual organs especially. The image of the
sexually viable Black woman only then signified fertility as well as “sites of wild,
unrestrained sexuality that could be tamed and never subdued.”9 This particular
stereotype of the Black woman would become the Jezebel—the antithesis of the
mammy figure.
While this may have been the case for some Black women, as mentioned before,
whites felt the need to create another vision for their own house slaves. Unlike their
female counterparts whose bodies were marked as being explicitly sexual, these Black
women became critical in home operations on the plantation. In “The Role of the Black
Mammy in the Plantation Household,” Jesse Parkhurst describes the Mammy as such:
“The ‘Black Mammy’ was a household servant who generally had specific
duties to perform. These were mainly connected with the care of the children of
the family, thus relieving the mistress of all the drudgery work connected with
childcare. When these duties were not pressing, which meant that, when the
children were large enough to be able to help take care of themselves, she
assisted mistress in household tasks. Her sphere of influence widened with the
years of her service. She was next to the mistress in authority and ‘bossed’
everyone and everything in the household.”10
The Mammy was the expert in the home; she filled any role that they needed in the
house, inclusive of being the family’s wet nurse.
The Mammy served as a direct juxtaposition to her mistress. Her neutrality was
dependent on her not occupying the physical characteristics of the Jezebel. Her physical
size was an important contrast to the Victorian views of white beauty. Jo-Ann Morgan

7
Hall, 31
8
Hall, 266
9
Collins, 56.
10
Parkhurst (1938)
J Afr Am St (2013) 17:308–326 311

articulates this point in “Mammy the Huckster: Selling the Old South for the New
Century:”
“Euro-American women were delicate. Picturing her uncorseted and wearing
unstylish clothing negated the potential attractiveness of the buxom African Amer-
ican woman. Though Mammy, as a wet nurse, was female in the most essential life
sustaining sense, advertisers undermined her very femaleness by giving her broad
shoulders, strong arms, and firmly planted large feet to support a wide stance. Euro-
American men were thus able to define and defend their habits by counterpoising
her against the presence of the husky, mannish African American woman.”11
Because of her clear juxtaposition to the ways in which the Victorian slave mistress
behaved in the home, the Mammy became a very non-threatening figure. Patricia Hill
Collins notes the Mammy was “created to justify the economic exploitation of the house
slaves and sustained to explain Black women’s long-standing restriction to domestic
service; the mammy image represents the normative yardstick used to evaluate all Black
women’s behavior.”12 More importantly, the Mammy exemplified the ways in which
the Black woman could truly work with white people. Despite her physical size and
difference from that of her slave owner or employer, the Mammy was supposed to
appeal like a “natural, normal, and an inevitable part of everyday life.”13 Her maternal
instincts made her the most domesticated and dutiful slave; she embodied the
archetype of a protector. Although she was a slave, the Mammy became the prototype
of white domesticity; she would later become everything the white woman wanted to
be able to do in their homes by the 1950s and 1960s:
“The black mammy also represented the ideal state of white, female domestic-
ity. White women were expected to adopt Mammy’s domestic-related character-
istics because her identity was dominated by presumptions of her assumed
dedication to the smooth operation of the household and the welfare of the
children in that household. Mammy’s large bosom…represents an overabun-
dance of maternal resources… in the role as a domestic caretaker, she represents
the state of black allegiance to whiteness…Her fatness signals an infinite
reserve of maternal dedication …”14
Her ability to also maintain a place in the white household also dealt with her
ability to seem relatively harmless to their white mistresses. Unlike the Jezebel,
known for her overly flirtatious and sexually explicit nature, the weight of the
Mammy and her relatively “normal” look should not appeal to that of the white
master: “the contrariness of her large body, dark skin and non-angular facial features
to the ideal image of Western beauty causes Mammy to pose no sexual threat to white
women. By deflecting attention from slender, sexually attractive black women re-
sembling Vanessa Williams, it can be argued that the Mammy image mollifies white
female fears about white men’s interracial liaisons.”15 Mammies then became the

11
Morgan (1995)
12
Collins (1990)
13
(Beauboef-Lafontant (2003)
14
Shaw (2005)
15
Shaw, 146
312 J Afr Am St (2013) 17:308–326

“safe” black person who could sometimes be overlooked, therefore furthering her
marginalization in the eyes of the greater American public.
Even as slavery came to an end, the Mammy figure had a continued importance in
the American landscape. “Because the ‘Black Mammy’ originated in and came out of
the period of bondage she is an acceptable symbol to whites and an unacceptable one
to Negroes.”16 Because the Mammy and the Uncle Tom were close to the family
because of their work in the household, the characters allowed for a vision of how
African Americans could integrate into larger society. Morgan notes, “A survivor of
the Old South, her continued service to a white mistress, now her northern employer,
was a reunifying gesture toward the North-South reconciliation…became a defender
of class privilege and the status quo. By remaining in the kitchen or the nursery, she
offered a ready solution not only to the problem of how to assimilate former slaves
into contemporary society, but also to the challenge of how to keep the middle-class
Euro-American woman in her “ladylike” role of home administrator.”17
Interestingly, it was also in this post-Civil War period where the minstrel show
became a place where stereotypes would manifest themselves in America’s most
popular form of entertainment. Playing off of ideas of the Black body and mindset,
minstrelsy placed African Americans in a place that maintained their inferiority. With
growing nativist tensions as well as increased immigrant populations, the minstrel
show allowed for there to be a public space in which the Black person in general
could be publicly denigrated. Lemons notes, “Again in the 1880 s and 1890 s when
race relations were at their worst level, the comic black man became the most
common figure in America’s new popular entertainment vaudeville and the musical
revue…[The] Negro became the butt of the national joke…popular culture’s treat-
ment of blacks reflected the society’s humiliation of them. The general public tried to
render one of its most fearsome problems into a funny one.”18 At the same time, she
was being made fun of in the minstrel show, she also became a symbol in advertising
campaigns. For example, the popular imagery around that of Aunt Jemima comes
from this notion of the Mammy. Due to her ability to cook and her command of the
kitchen, the Mammy-like figure provided a validation for the quality of the product,
especially giving those from the south a reminder of the live that they may have had.
In D.W. Griffith’s Birth of a Nation (1915), the image of the mammy moved from
its former existence in vaudeville and minstrelsy to reach the masses on the silver
screen. At this point, a white male in black face and a fat suit portrayed the Mammy,
further exacerbating the imagery associated with the iconic figure. In his book, On the
Reel Side, Laughing, Lying and Signifying—The Underground Tradition of African
American Humor That Transformed American Culture, from Slavery to Richard
Pryor, Mel Watkins notes, “the burden of soliciting laughter was left to a more
irreverent or slothful servant breed: the hallowed, robust mammy, who was either
drolly, independent or assertively outspoken.”19 Watkins notes of the first screen
Mammy in the black face version of Lysistrata called Coon Town Suffragettes where
“a group of bossy black mammy washerwomen [who] organize a militant movement

16
Parkhurst, 349
17
Morgan, 88
18
Lemons, 104
19
Watkins (1994)
J Afr Am St (2013) 17:308–326 313

to keep their good for nothing husbands at home.”20 With that in mind, even in its
silent manifestations, the early Mammy on the screen asserted herself in a space even
in their marginalized state as a black woman. This point in time distorted the vision of
the faithful and dutiful servant, making fun of the strong intelligent Black domestic of
the South.

The Black Matriarch

While the icon of the Mammy looked at the Black woman from a point of view
closely related to slavery, the Matriarch takes the Black female outside of the white
home and looks at her life with children and possibly a husband. The figurehead of
the matriarch stems from discussion of “The Moynihan Report.” Daniel Patrick
Moynihan, a policy writer for the United States Government (later a U.S. Senator
from New York State), tried to expound upon the major issues that affected Blacks
and what might need to be done in order to help their integration into larger society.
Moynihan discussed that there was a “tangle of pathology.” In this idea, he goes into
depth about how the matriarchal familial structure that exists in the African American
family is the key to their problems in society. Because this familial structure was out
of sync from the “great majority” of American families, specifically white America, it
imposed on the advancement of African Americans. Due to their difference, white
people looked down on African American habits and tended to disregard their
families as “disorganized” or incapable of positive performance. Moynihan also looks
specifically into the role of the Black male in the family and his historic alienation in
the job market as fueling his “emasculation” leading to a matrilineal familial structure.
Moynihan broke his argument into four points. The first noted, "Nearly a quarter
of urban Negro families are dissolved." In this section, he points to the fact that many
women who were married are now divorced, separated or living apart from their
husbands, with the highest rates in the northeast (26 percent of women).21 He
compared these figures with that of white women from the years 1950–1960 showing
a significant difference between the numbers of divorce between the two groups with
whites less inclined to engage in the practices of divorce and separation. His second
point stated, "nearly one quarter of Negro births are now illegitimate.”22 Moynihan
noted that rates are increasing in both the white and non-white worlds: "Both white
and Negro illegitimacy rates have been increasing, although at dramatically different
bases. The white rate was 2 percent in 1940; it was 3.07 percent in 1963. In that
period, the Negro rate went from 16.8 percent to 23.6 percent.”23 Here, he impor-
tantly notes that, although some African American children are technically illegiti-
mate, they are still a product of two people who are unmarried but in a stable
relationship. He also acknowledged that these figures are questionable, dependent
on the limited sources from which he attained them. His third idea is that "almost one-
fourth of Negro families are headed by Females."24 Again, he mentioned the growing
20
Watkins, 196
21
Rainwater and Yancey (1967)
22
Rainwater, 54
23
Rainwater, 54
24
Rainwater, 55.
314 J Afr Am St (2013) 17:308–326

rates of divorce and separation as one of the causes of this, while comparing the rates
to those of the white family. Levels among white Americans were dropping off while
there was a doubling within the African American community. He states: "It has been
estimated that only a minority of Negro children reach the age of 18 having lived all
their lives with both their parents.”25 Again, this speaks to Frazier's notion that a
stable family means a patriarchal dual parent family structure. Lastly, Moynihan
states "the breakdown of the Negro family has led to a startling increase in welfare
dependency.”26 At the time of his writing, approximately 14 % of black children
received AFDC dollars in comparison to the 2 % of white children. In two thirds of
these cases, Moynihan said that families cited desertion by the father as the problem.
In his mind, there was a correlation with the growing numbers of families on welfare
to the levels of disorganization and disintegration of the African American family.27
The matriarch typifies this Black woman who is in the midst of Moynihan’s allega-
tions. She is a strong Black woman, who, due to economic constraints that kept Black
men out of the labor force, has to take charge in her home. In the eyes of Moynihan and
some of his contemporaries, this situation only helps to retard the progress of African
Americans in the pursuit to truly be a part of the American hegemonic society; if African
Americans want to be considered part of the normative group, it will be necessary for
them to make this shift. Patricia Hill Collins notes, “Portraying African American
women as matriarchs allows the dominant group to blame Black women for
the success or failure of Black children…Such a view diverts attention from the
political and economic inequality affecting Black mothers and children and
suggests that anyone can rise from poverty if he or she only received good
values at home” (Collins, 74).
Unlike the Mammy though, there is no physical characteristic that is conflated with the
Matriarch. She simply operates as a head of household who channels her energy into
maintaining a strong presence for her kids and making sure that everything is going as
best as they can for her family. In “Strong And Large Black Women?: Exploring
Relationships between Deviant Womanhood and Weight,” Tamara LaBoeuf-Lafontant
notes, “Rather than take care of her white owners like her Mammy predecessor, the Black
superwoman now withstands adversity for the sake of her own family and community.
However, many of the characteristics of fortitude and care-giving ascribed to strong
Black women are an inversion of the Mammy myth and a continuation of the extreme
selflessness that the Mammy role expected of the Black women. Consistent in both
stereotypes is the idea of a Black woman as a “longsuffering, religious, maternal figure,”
loved for her “self-sacrificing self-denial for those she loves.”28 In these situations, it
then becomes apparent that the parallel between the Mammy and these “new”
strong Black women allows for there to be some growth in the ways in which
imagery surrounding the characterization of Black females in television. These
women slowly move in like with the notion “progression of the Black woman”
who is not simply just a domestic, but rather trying to support herself, her
family, and her community.

25
Rainwater, 55
26
Rainwater, 58
27
Sewell (2005)
28
LaBoeuf-Lafontant 114
J Afr Am St (2013) 17:308–326 315

Beulah—The 1950s Mammy

With the advent of the television in the late 1940s, the American family could not
gather around and enjoy some of the popular radio television with many of their
favorite shows making the transition to the small screen from popular radio shows.
By the 1950s, the Mammy still continued to be a part of the vision of the African
American woman on screen. Movies such as Show Boat (1936), Gone with the Wind
(1939), and Pinky (1949) all presented this popular imagery for popular consumption
on the big screen. It is then no surprise that one popular radio show that featured the
fun-loving Mammy became one of its first favorites.
Beulah, as a character, first premiered as part of a radio show, Homeward Unin-
corporated, in 1939. Slowly, as the character began to be featured in several other
shows, it finally became its own show on CBS Radio in 1945. White actor Marlin
Hurt originally portrayed the role of Beulah on the radio show; he “made the
character all the more buffoonishly stereotyped.”29 By 1947, show producers and
creators decided to cast a Black actress in the role of the Mammy. For this role, they
went to Ethel Waters. Waters played Beulah for its first season. Donald Bogle notes
“Waters portrayed Beulah as a relaxed, older Sothern Black woman, aware of the
racial codes of the household in which she works—and fond of the family-yet not all
sacrificing.30 Unfortunately, Waters “no longer wanted the white folk’s kitchen role”
and subsequently left the show at the end of the first season.31
Famous for her roles in the movies Show Boat and her Academy Award for Best
Supporting Actress in Gone with the Wind in 1939, Hattie McDaniel seemed the
logical second choice. McDaniel is famously known for saying, “Why should I
complain about making seven thousand dollars a week playing a maid. If I didn’t,
I’d be making seven dollars a week being one!”32 Due to the climate of Hollywood at
the time, and the continued thoughts about Black in American culture, the role of the
Mammy was one of the very limited roles by which a Black actress could enhance her
career. Donald Bogle notes:
“She played the fussy, boisterous, big bosomed maid time and time again …
with fiercely and distinctively American aggressiveness and her stupendous
sonic boom of a voice, Hattie created rich, dazzling characteristics …A pow-
erfully built woman, she weighed close to three hundred pounds, was very dark,
and had typically Negro features. With her enormous mouth, wonderfully
expressive eyes, ‘pearly white teeth’ and mammoth rounded face, Hattie
McDaniel …”33
McDaniel then epitomized in truest form what the Mammy should look like. The
increasing imagery around the figure then would now not only be imagined but bound
by this new contained view, to be a good care-giver, the Mammy had to be big and black.
Interestingly, McDaniel would take on this role at a time when African Americans in
film were not going on this route. Many of the films that starred Black women at the time
29
Bogle (2001)
30
Bogle, Primetime 25
31
Bogle, Primetime 25
32
Bogle 2003)
33
Bogle, Toms 82
316 J Afr Am St (2013) 17:308–326

came to represent different issues that persisted in the African American community.
Stories focused on the “Negro Question, the Color Question; focusing on the issues of
race and racism in America, establishing African American characters as brooding and
trouble figures; bracing for a nation’s social injustices and inequities.”34 While this
might have been the case for moviegoers, it seemed like the American population at
large still yearned for images of the Mammy.
In Beulah, McDaniel truly played into some of the main characteristics of what it
meant to be a Mammy. Each episode started with some “pithy comment made by
Beulah.”35 Since the Mammy was all-knowing and knowledgeable about the inner
workings of her family and world, Beulah’s comment in the beginning of the show
only solidified the notion that she highlighted the idea that the Mammy was a
constant source of help and “always ready to save the day.”36 While some critics
argue that her demeanor changed when she was around other African Americans, her
goal was to simply serve those who employed her.
In “Beulah Goes Gardening,” Beulah’s employer, Mr. Henderson, decides that
paying for a gardener is too expensive for the family, especially since the gardener is
not doing a good job. As a result, the family decides that they will break up the tasks in
the yard—Mr. Henderson doing the mowing, Mrs. Henderson watering, and their son,
Donny, pulling weeds. As the episode progresses, it becomes apparent that the family
does not have the time to complete the tasks, each asking Beulah to do the work for
them. Despite the fact that she has to cook and clean, the dutiful Beulah takes on all the
tasks even though she does not know how to really work the lawnmower and jeep the
hedges at equal length. At the end of the day, the dinner she makes for the family burns,
leaving her irate. As she brings out the ham Beulah states, “It’s spoiled. But don’t blame
me. It was prepared by a field hand and not a cook.” While she is never disrespectful, she
clearly states her opinion for her family to know. Upon viewing the dinner, Mr.
Henderson suggests that maybe they should have cold cuts each Saturday; by saying
this, he implies that Beulah will have to continue her role as the gardener. When Beulah
comes back to hear the solution, the following conversation ensues:
Mr. Henderson: Beulah, I have a solution. From now on, on Saturday nights
we will have cold cuts for dinner.
Beulah: Cold cuts?
Mrs. Henderson: That’s a good idea
Beulah: Mr. Harry, I’ll dig the yard if I have to. I’ll lay a brick wall for ya. But
I’m not going to serve my family no cold cuts on Saturday nights (storming
back into the kitchen).
It becomes clear that no matter what she has to do, she will make sure that her
family is taken care of. She sees this as her duty—taking care of the Hendersons.
Beulah also helps to put forth the imagery of the happy-go-lucky Black domestic
and her friends. In “The Waltz,” Donny has to learn the waltz and perform it at a
school dance function. Unfortunately, Donny’s dance teacher reports back that he is
34
Bogle, Primetime 20
35
Bogle, Primetime 20
36
Bogle, Primetime 21
J Afr Am St (2013) 17:308–326 317

not doing well in his preparation. Beulah tells Donny that she will teach him to dance
along with her pseudo-boyfriend Bill. Donny is shocked; he did not know she could
dance. This plays in to the idea that the Mammy is de-sexed and focused on her
maternal patterns. She leaves her private life to the side and again focuses on her
energy on the Henderson family. Beulah does not teach him how to waltz, though she
puts on some swing music, teaching Donny how to dance with his partner to this
music. In this performance, it is clear that McDaniel performs her Blackness in a very
clear and distinct way. She retreats back into notions around the happy minstrel who
sings and dances, always providing entertainment for the family. Here, she really
speaks to the idea of stereotypes of African Americans as dancing people who coon to
make the white man happy. As the episode continues, Hall’s notions of fetishism as
all of the young white girls are enamored by the ways in which Donny dances at the
dance. Beulah takes Mrs. Henderson to see how Donny became the hit with all of the
girls in his class who want to learn exactly what Beulah and Bill taught him. It is this
process that speaks specifically to the ways in which a fascination with the Black
body, performance, and life leads to its cooptation by whites, much like in the
beginnings of minstrelsy.
McDaniel, who grew ill during the shooting of her season, left in 1952, only to be
replaced by Louise Beavers, famous for her role in 1934’s Imitation of Life. Soon into
her tenure, Beavers also grew tired of playing the role that the show called for. At the
same time, the show came under attack from the NAACP for continuing to present a
very stereotyped version of the African American woman. Bogle notes “… Beulah, as
network television’s introduction to the African American woman as a popular
nighttime series star, had presented the Black woman as a familiar nurturer, without
a home or much of a life of her own …”37 Despite then being vilified for its portrayal,
it is important to think about the ways in which Beulah fit into the time post-Word
War II. She helped to push the life in the where one could live devoid of the social ills
that began to plague inner cities while also keeping a connection to the American
Dream while there. Beulah was that bridge to the past when everything seemed to go
right. Being a domestic, Beulah helped to keep the hegemonic order in place,
showing how it continued to work. She became a way to remind viewers that there
was a tranquility and peace after the war, and even as Black acquainted themselves
with the industrial era during the war, things were now back to normal and African
Americans would once again retain the place they held in society.

Move Over Mammy: The Matriarch of the 1960s and Beyond

In the aftermath of Beulah came the Civil Rights Movement. Emmett Till, Brown v.
Board of Education of Topeka, Kansas (1954), and Rosa Parks and the Montgomery
Bus Boycotts (1955) became the impetus for change. African Americans would begin
to fight for equality not just in the law but also in practice. No longer did they want to
go to separate bathrooms or restaurants nor did they want to be continually denied
access to institutions of higher learning and the benefits of a sound education. It
would be 15 years after the end of Beulah for there to be new imagery surrounding

37
Bogle, Primetime 26
318 J Afr Am St (2013) 17:308–326

the Black woman. As mentioned earlier, Moynihan clearly provided one interpreta-
tion of the issues around the Black family and the issues that dealt with the lives in
this historical moment. Jennifer B. Woodward and Teresa Martin articulate this point
clearly in “Black Womanhood: Essence and its Treatment of Stereotypical Black
Women”: “She represents the image of the Black woman as a mother within the Black
home. The 1960s Moynihan Report solidified this image within the minds of many
Americans with the image of a controlling, emasculating Black woman who dictated
to both her children and her man in her home. This mother, too, works outside the
home, and her children suffer for it.”38 (Woodward and Martin 271).
It is in this historical moment where Black family sitcoms take shape. Julia,
starring Diahann Carroll, became the first show to really try to present these new
images around the Black family. A widow, Julia Baker, was a nurse in a predomi-
nantly white hospital and cared for her son, Corey. In the series, Julia moves into an
integrated apartment building in Los Angeles and maintains close friendships with
many of her white neighbors. Here, there is a classic example of not only the growth
of the middle class by Wilson, but we also see the continued look at the matrilineal
family. Many critics took issue with the fact that, in the midst of the political turmoil
that existed in the 1960s, especially in Los Angeles, it did not tackle any of the racial
issues tat many Blacks faced. Adding to the criticism, some were skeptical of the fact
that the show continued to put forth imagery of the Black man being absent. Even
though she was a widow, the lack of a father figure seemed formulaic and only built
into contemporary notions of the Black family. Bogle notes, “Once word leaked about
the sitcom’s story line, even before the show aired, criticism arose about its basic
premise and its characters. Those who anticipated an edgy series that would tap the
still growing unrest in American urban centers realized that Julia would not be
that.”39 Julia therefore brought a very tamed version of the figure of the matriarch.
Unlike the analysis provided in The Moynihan Report, Julia was not pushing pathol-
ogy nor was she taking advantage of any forms of government assistance. Rather, due
to the death of her husband, she had to step up to be the head of household. Being in a
white world helped to ease the depiction, especially because she was clearly middle
class—again contrasting the views presented by Moynihan.
Norman Lear’s Good Times presented viewers with a situation most closely
related to the life that Moynihan and others argued was the state of African American
family. Living in the projects on the south side of Chicago, the Evans family had to
deal with the hardships of unemployment, being poor, and the effects of the changing
sociopolitical landscape of America. In this depiction of the African American family,
social ills constantly became the focus of many storylines, showing how deeply class
becomes an indicator of their racial and living situations. The show, a spin-off of
Lear’s Maude, focused on Florida Evans and her family. Played by Esther Rolle,
Florida embodied the Black matriarch in a position closest to the socio-economic
status viewed in The Moynihan Report. Unlike the slim and light-skinned Julia,
Rolle’s presentation bordered what some might consider being a Mammy. But, in
this spin-off, Florida moved from being the Mammy of Maude to being the mother of
JJ, Thelma, and Michael and wife of James.

38
Woodward and Teresa (2005)
39
Bogle, Primetime 142
J Afr Am St (2013) 17:308–326 319

In contrast to The Moynihan Report and some of the imagery most often associated
with the character of the Matriarch, Florida’s husband was in the show. Part of her
duties of being a matriarch in this system was not only to lead the family and be this
strong Black woman but also balance the feelings of her husband simultaneously. In
“Getting the Rent,” it becomes clear that Florida maintains a strong role in the
household while her husband is around. Due to his lack of employment, James does
not have the money for the rent. In efforts to keep Florida out of the mix, he does
whatever he can to avoid her finding out. While in many episodes it is clear that he
has the final word, Florida’s check on the daily life of the family is critical to make
sure that every decision is correct. While she was quite prideful, Florida ended up
going to apply for Welfare because it was the only option available to them. Firstly,
this supports the notion that the Black woman in the matriarch role, and in this case
her husband as well, really did want to provide the best for their family without
intervention—all while saving face in front of the children. At the same time, it noted
that Black women were not just reliant on welfare; it illustrated how many of these
women wanted to work, but, in some cases, society or life just came in the way. In
“Florida goes to School,” Florida decided to go back to school in order to provide an
excellent example for her children as well as to increase her own learning. Even
though her husband is skeptical of her going to school, she still goes anyways. In her
mind, she needs to do whatever it takes to further the possibilities for herself while
also showing her children that college is a viable option.
In contrast to borderline Mammy-like Matriarch that Esther Rolle played was the
character Wilona, played by Janet DuBois. Wilona lived a very healthy sex life, or so
she claimed. Bogle notes, “Wilona did not work because she wanted a fabulous
career. She worked partly because she enjoyed it—partly because she had to.”40
Wilona exemplified this strong, independent Black woman who focused on herself
and the things that she needed. Later in the show’s tenure, things change as she adopts
an abused young girl, Penny (played by Janet Jackson). By providing Wilona with
this opportunity, the series “created a round character who could be nurturing (to
Penny), domesticated, able to run her own household, and all the while hold onto a
very sexy sexuality.”41 Wilona’s character also then helps to discuss the idea of being
a single mother but in a very positive light, contrasting much of the discussion around
being a single Black matriarch. Instead of leaving her child to fend for itself, in this
instance, it is clear that Wilona provides a clear vision of stability.
Interestingly, the show’s emphasis changed as time persisted, moving from dis-
cussing the whole family relationship to that of their eldest son, JJ. His character
conjured up imagery dating back to the coon figures that dominated the minstrel era.
During the 1976–1977 seasons, Rolle quit the show in protest of the use of continued
negative imagery as well as the killing off of her television husband in an accident in
Georgia. She felt that the show simply played into the notions of the Black single
matriarch who would have to struggle and maintain a façade. She did not agree with
the notion that the Black woman had to be single to fit in with the common imagery
about the Black woman and her family at the time. While her concerns were valid, it
was ironic; it is clear that, while Florida did represent a strong Black woman, she was

40
Bogle, Primetime 205
41
Bogle, Primetime 206
320 J Afr Am St (2013) 17:308–326

also quite submissive to her husband while embodying some of the physical charac-
teristics of the Mammy. Woodward and Martin assert that Rolle’s Florida as well as
Nell Carter in Gimme a Break (1981–1987) are simply contemporary manifestation of
the Mammy: “Contemporary examples that prove the persistence of this image
include Florida Evans, the mother on the 1970s series Good Times, and Nell Carter,
the housekeeper in the popular 1980s TV program Gimme A Break. Both characters
were large, deep brown in color, self-sacrificing, loyal, humble and usually jovial.42
Another important show that began to tackle the imagery of the Black woman in
the 1970s was Norman Lear’s The Jeffersons. Formerly residing in Harlem, the
family takes the step by "moved on up" from Harlem to a "deluxe apartment" in
the Upper East Side of Manhattan; this was a result of George Jefferson's growing dry
cleaning business. In the case of the Jefferson family, while maintaining a very Black
centric humor, the family really did ground themselves in the ways in which they
became middle class and how they could maintain it. The show featured both
examples of the Black Mammy/Matriarch characters in Louise “Weezy” Jefferson
(Isabel Sanford) and Florence (Marla Gibbs). Sanford’s Louise, interestingly, despite
being the mother/wife in the show, acted most times as the Mammy. Due to her large
size and expressive face, she was often the person in the show who came off as the
nurturer and as being domestic. She acted as the voice of reason, as her husband
George, often acted hastily. In “Florence’s Problem,” it is Weezy’s concern for
Florence’s well-being that saves her from committing suicide. She is so there for
her son Lionel, when he suffers depression and alcoholism after net getting a job in
“Lionel’s Problem.”
It is also interesting that Louise often serves the role of mediator between Blacks
and whites. Much like the role of the Mammy of the past, Louise serves to be the
peacemaker between her markedly racist husband and several of the white characters
on the show. The Jeffersons featured the first interracial couple on television with the
Willis family. George often referred to them as the “zebra couple,” while also making
fun of their white neighbor, Mr. Bentley. Often times, Louise would be the one to
remind George that he was not being nice or simply put him in his place for his
remarks.
Considering that Sanford did play this role, it is of no surprise that her character
did not want to hire a maid. George pushed the idea considering that they had to now
live up to their new social class and compare/show off to those around them.
Reluctantly, Louise gave into the idea suggested but received retribution when the
fast-talking Florence, played by Marla Gibbs, came to work for the family. Her sass
and extreme zest for the job won Louise over and was only topped by her quick
thought as the episode ended: “How come we overcame and no one told me” in
reference to the wealth and life style of the Jeffersons and their neighbors, the
Willises. Gibbs’ Florence paralleled that of Wilona in Good Times in that she
represented the strong single Black woman who could speak her mind and really
provide a voice for the Black woman. Even as a domestic, we rarely see her doing
anything related to her job unlike Mammy’s of the past, and when she is, it is often in
some sassy and borderline disrespectful way with George. While she does not have
any kids, she actively takes on the persona (or characteristics) of the stereotypical

42
Woodward and Martin, 271
J Afr Am St (2013) 17:308–326 321

Matriarch while in the role of the Mammy. The hybridization of these two roles
seemed to manifest themselves in several other sitcoms of the late 1970s. In Eric
Monte’s What’s Happening? viewers meet the both large and Black characters of
Mabel Kin (played by Mabel Jones) and Shirley Wilson (played by Shirley Hemp-
hill). Both of these women sport the sass and independence of the matriarchal role
while also playing into the physical and nurturing characteristics of the Mammy. Nell
Carter’s Nell Harper on Gimme a Break was another example that led the Mammy
into the 1980s.
As the decade changed, there was also a change in the ways in which one could
imagine the role of race in the American political landscape, which in turn affected
shows produced for television. Omi and Winant detail the 1970s as a time for transfor-
mation. In Racial Formation in the United States from the 1960s to the 1990s, the
authors discuss the growth of the neoconservative movement as occurring during the
1970s in response specifically to affirmative action and race-based programs. For the
political right, who were at the helm of this reactionary movement, a color blind
society was necessary: “Its vision was that of a ‘color-blind’ society where racial
considerations were never entertained in the selection of leaders, in hiring decisions,
and the distribution of goods and serve in general.”43 For neoconservatives, problems
around discrimination and injustice were then fought on a more individualized level,
and it was no longer a function of the state to support in rectifying these problems.
This policy was furthered quite progressively under the leadership of Ronald Reagan,
which was the era in which Bill Cosby created The Cosby Show.
The show, which debuted in 1984, focused on the Huxtable family and their lives in
Brooklyn, NY. Despite its location in New York during the 1980s, the subject matter of
the show tended to present a very race-less view of the African American family. Bill
Cosby’s hiring of Alvin Poussaint, an African American psychologist, ensured that there
was no negative imagery of African Americans. The Cosby Show focused on the ideas
of parenting and made sure that there was universality for its viewers. According to
Cosby, “It may seem I’m an authority because my skin color gives me a mark of a
victim. But that’s not a true label. I won’t deal with the foolishness of racial overtones
on the show. I base an awful lot of what I’ve done simply on what people will enjoy. I
want to show a family that has a good life, not people to be jealous of.”44 With this
statement, Cosby noted that his project was not to provide a “black show” for popular
consumption but one that happened to have a cast of African Americans.
With that said, the presentation of the family’s matriarch clearly tried to negate any
of the stereotypes commonly associated with the imagery around the Black female
body. Claire Huxtable, played by Phylicia Rashad, truly looked towards the upward
mobility of the imagery of Black women. A lawyer, she was always dressed impec-
cably. Although we only see her at work in one episode, it is very clear that she works
just as hard, if not harder, than her husband Cliff, who is an obstetrician. While this
was the major vision that viewers saw throughout the tenure of the show, the pilot
episode presented Claire in a light much more like the common vision of the
Mammy–Matriarch. Even though she is not a large woman, in the pilot, we see her
home with the kids walking to greet her husband with an apron. Thinking about the

43
Winant and Omi (1994)
44
Gray (1995)
322 J Afr Am St (2013) 17:308–326

mission of Cosby and his anti-ace association stance on the show, it is not a surprise
that there would be a complete change in the physical presentation of Claire before
the show really hit the small screen. One may argue that Cosby found it necessary to
change the signifier often associated with the Black Mammy–Matriarch in order to
begin his own project of creating a non-race-specific vision of the American family.
Claire’s life as a busy lawyer also allowed for there to be almost an inversion of the
life associated with the Mammy–Matriarch. She had long hours and Cliff’s office was
in the home; he almost by default took on some of the responsibilities in the home.
While some might put this in the category of the Matriarch that left her children
alone, clearly the decisions made by both parents worked in order to provide not only
a stable home but give viewers the chance to see the missing father that Moynihan
deemed necessary. When home though, Claire interacted with the children and often
sat in the seat by the door writing checks and/or paying bills. Throughout the time of
the show, she might have engaged in some small forms of Black performance whether
it be through speech patterns or a gesture, but for the most part, Claire was truly
devoid of any real attachment to the figures presented in the text.
Interestingly, even as the show progressed, the imagery around motherhood stays
relatively the same. The only difference is that of Denise (played by Lisa Bonet) and
her stepdaughter Olivia. In this storyline, we clearly see how the matriarch has to
figure out how to navigate her relationship with a child that is not hers by birth but
still maintains control over. At the same time, we also get the chance to meet Olivia’s
real mother. In this meeting, it is clear that Olivia’s mother was just not ready to
handle Olivia, therefore entrusting her to Denise and Olivia’s father. This image of the
mother as the matriarch shows that it is not simply just a selfish choice by a Black
woman to neglect or avoid their kids but rather one that is more strategic and can
include a plan in order to ensure that their child is well taken care of.
Many of the critics of the show argue that the show was immune from the ills of
society. The Cosby Show became part of what Herman Gray defines as an “assimi-
lationist” mode of blackness that emerged in the 1980s. In this definition, it “empha-
sized core elements such as individualism, racial invincibility, professional
competence, success, upward social mobility, and the routinization of the racial issue.
Absent were representations of black collectivity …racial conflict and struggle as
well as black situation and viewpoints that provide different competing alternative to
the dominant assimilation model.”45 Critics questioned whether the show simply
represented “a white family in Black face” since it lacked the clearly Black images
and storylines like shows from the 1970s. Herman Gray notes:
“The show seemed unable, or unwilling, to negotiate its universal appeals to
family, the middle class, mobility, and individualism on the one hand and its
particularities of black social, political and economic realities on the other.
While effectively representing middle-class Blackness as one expression of
black diversity, the show in turn submerged other sites, tensions, and points
of difference by consistently celebrating mobility, unlimited consumerism, and
the patriarchal nuclear family.46

45
Staiger (2000)
46
Hunt, 163
J Afr Am St (2013) 17:308–326 323

It is in this space where the matriarch of the 1980s leaves the viewers—spaces that
are muddled in discussions of class and neo-conservative rhetoric.

The Mammy Matriarch Re-invented—In Drag—The Case of Eddie Murphy

The black Mammy–Matriarch figure did not die out in the 1980s. From Flip Wilson
to Jamie Foxx, Black male comics began to revisit these ideas around Black women
and stereotypes that emerged/re-emerged such as the Jezebel, Welfare Queen, and the
Video Ho. The Mammy did not escape this recreation. One particular instance of this
is Eddie Murphy in The Nutty Professor (1996).
In The Nutty Professor, Eddie Murphy plays Prof. Sherman Klump, who discovers
a formula that can reconstruct his DNA in order to lose massive amounts of weight
(where is alter ego Buddy Love comes to light). Interestingly, Murphy decides to play
several of the characters himself, inclusive of Sherman’s grandmother, Mama, and
mother, Anna, just like in Coming to America. In making this choice, Murphy took on
the role of the Mammy, bringing his own “comedic” spin on the icon Black female.
Anna, Sherman’s mother, is the truest form of the mammy—domestic, caring, and
somewhat de-sexed. Upon introduction to the viewers, it is clear that she’s someone
who enjoys having her family in the home and takes care of the food and people. As
the conversation ensures she states, “There is nothing like a good meal with family.”
She is excited to be in the presence of her whole family; she rubs the head of her
youngest son while he makes a muscle. She is also concerned that Sherman is not
eating enough food. Even though there might be issues associated with being
overweight, food for her is her way to not only show her expertise in the kitchen
but also express her love for her family. Food seems to operate, as a ways in which
she can make sure people are healthy.
She is also very interested in the loves of those who are around her and tries to
protect them when and if necessary. When her husband makes an attack on Mama,
she is quick to come to Mama’s defense. She even worries about Oprah’s health as
she keeps losing and gaining weight. The whole idea of protection and worry comes
to light when she talks to Sherman after dinner. Much like the Mammy, she provides
the wisdom and help that Sherman needs to remember that he is a good person who
will achieve success. She tries to help him dispel any of the thoughts that his father
said at dinner while trying to make him realize that it was not his physical size that
made him, but rather his intellect and his heart. This particular discussion obviously
emphasized the idea that the Mammy was aware of her size but realized that her value
was not in physical attributes but rather in how she provided for those who were
around her.
While the mother clearly fits into boundaries of respectability and remains de-
sexed and protecting of her family, Mama takes the idea of the Mammy to a new
level. Donald Bogle notes that Sherman’s “raunchy grandmother seems to be inspired
by Moms Mabley.”47 While reminiscent of the prolific comic, Mama is quite sexed
even in her older years. Even though she is the Matriarch of the family, she acts as if
she no longer has anything to lose and speaks her mind. In the midst of a ramble on

47
Bogle, Toms 403
324 J Afr Am St (2013) 17:308–326

talk show hosts, she divulges “Mike Douglas is the only white man to make me
moist.” Here, she clearly points out that even those who are older or are thought to
have a repressed sexuality think about men and the feelings associated with relation-
ships. In a later dinner scene, Mama also recalls days gone by when she used to have
“relations” with gentlemen who were up to her standards; she gives the Mammy a
sexual past that no one ever knew about. Before her life in the house or taking care of
children, she courted possible suitors, using her sexuality as power. While she may
not be engaging in relations currently, she knows that they are a beautiful and
necessary part of life.
Mama is also not afraid to assert herself when it comes to Cletus; in their
interactions, it is clear that they do not get along. Much like the sassy headstrong
Mammy–Matriarch characterized by Bogle and other scholars, Mama uses language
that clearly makes it known how she feels: She threatens to kick his ass; she’s ready to
throw a knife at him, or anything else that she could to do to get rid of him. She is not
only being a voice of reason but also providing a clear critique of the marginal place
that people try to put her in. She may be old and a woman, but she will not let any
man take advantage of her and her opinions will always matter.

Conclusion

The history of the Black woman on the small screen has been one that relied on past
assumptions and portrayals of the Black female body. Marked not only physically but
also emotionally, intellectually, socially, and sexually, the Black female slave acts as a
beginning point to which we can examine the what sin which the Black female body
becomes a sight for presentation in popular mediums. Because her body and perfor-
mance have signified a specific vision of what it meant to be Black, producers and
writers built roles around the common stereotypes associated with her in hopes to not
only fulfill the fantasy of whites but also maintain the status quo in America at large.
The television shows in this work help us to think about how these stereotypes and
signifiers become entangled in their political moment and then re-articulated to make
viewers feel comfortable. Beulah and her performance spoke of an America that still
tinged with racial segregation and hate, therefore allowing for a very gross stereotype
to come to the screen and it still became popular. While it would come under attack
from groups like the NAACP, its popularity during its years on air (1950–1953)
signals that America yearned for the America of the past. By the 1960s, this would all
change with the introduction of the Civil Rights legislation that would fuel the move
to begin more aggressive push for equality. In this moment, Julia would be this
person, but she failed to operate within this Black world that many hope it would.
By the 1970s, these shows would begin to initiate the viewing of a different type of
Black woman from that of the Mammy. As a result of the Civil Rights legislation and a
closer examination of the Black family in works like The Moynihan Report, the
Matriarch would emerge as one of several new stereotypes of the Black woman.
Interestingly, you might argue that this newer version of the Black woman still
contained vestiges of the Mammy that pushed through her performance. In order to
maintain her popularity, most of these characters continued to be non-threatening.
Concurrently, it is during this time, when shows had full Black casts, that we can see a
J Afr Am St (2013) 17:308–326 325

melding of these two figures and how the different things that might physically signify a
certain position then becomes changed as there are multiple Black female actors.
By the 1980s, with this push for a non-racialized America, these stereotypes
became muted. While they may have been there in small ways, the strong Black
woman commonly associated with the Matriarch was now moving upward away in
social settings. She was no longer subject to the white man’s order as she was no
partner in a firm, and her husband stays at home to help with the family while also
contributing financially. As evidenced here, the Black woman changed dramatically
in terms of her performance, look, and situation. The social world around them
affected the ways in which the portrayal of Black women on television and on the
screen.
Eddie Murphy’s portrayal here of the Mammy–Matriarch in the twentieth century
continues to place the figure in a space where the Black female body continues to be
pathologized. As she moves out of her confinement in the homes of white men, these
Mammy–Matriarchs have to create a space for themselves within the community.
Murphy outs the Mammy–Matriarch, bringing her inner feelings to the surface, forcing
people to confront the feelings that she once kept bottled up. While done in the comedic
genre, Murphy takes it to the extreme to exacerbate the need for people to acknowledge
that these women have more to them than simply cooking, cleaning, and talking about
the children that they bore or raised. Murphy’s portrayal, among the many other Black
men in drag, forces the reclassification of the Mammy as it entered the twenty-first
century. As Black women continue to make strides in the world around them, the
Mammy is beginning to take hers as well. Only time will tell where she will go next.

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