Today in Black Excellence: Donald Glover, Lena Waithe and Sterling K. Brown all make history at the 69th Primetime Emmy Awards.
Glover took home two Emmy’s for his work with Atlanta. The first was “Outstanding Directing for a Comedy Series, which he is the first Black director to win, and “Best Lead Actor in a Comedy.”
Waithe became the first Black woman to win an Emmy for comedy writing. She co-wrote Master of None’s “Thanksgiving” episode, which was based on her personal experience of coming out to her family, with series co-creator and star Aziz Ansari.
Finally, Brown became the first Black actor in nearly 20 years to win “Outstanding Lead Actor in a Drama Series” for his role in This Is Us.
Congrats to these three talented artists.
Photos courtesy of the Emmys/Television Academy’s Official Facebook page.
Okay the reason Zootopia deserves the Oscars over Moana and Kubo is because when you strip the movies down to their barest minimum, Moana and Kubo are simple adventure stories
Strip Zootopia down and it’s an easy to understand message about bias and learning to understand and respect differences.
“And to my husband and my daughter. My heart, you and Genesis. You teach me every day how to live, how to love. I’m so glad that you are the foundation of my life. Thank you to the Academy. Thank you.” - Viola Davis’s Oscar Acceptance Speech, 2017
prompt: alicia almost leaves bob after jacks overdose
[prompted by @eskildit, who now knows better than to send anons when she has great prompt idea <3 tw: overdose, homophobia]
The night before her son turns 13, Alicia Zimmermann pulls her husband aside and says, “Promise me you’ll let him choose for himself. If he wants to play hockey, if he wants to dance, if he wants to be a waiter, we’ll be okay with it.
Bob promises her, with all the devotion she’s come to expect, but not minutes later reminds her the NHL waits for no man, and Jack will need to start preparing for the future as soon as possible.
It was a sign of things to come, and she didn’t heed the warnings.
Jack is 14 when they diagnose him with an anxiety disorder Alicia’s never heard of. The specialist recommends reducing the level of stress in his life, maybe cutting back on unnecessary extracurriculars. He knows the family. He knows Bob. He’s being gentle.
They don’t change anything because hockey is life. Jack’s happy on the ice, unhappy off, so they take the medication instead. Just another step to Jack’s already offensively complicated routine.
“See?” Bob smiles when Jack is chosen to play for Rimouski Oceanic. “He’s going to be fine. Not like you and I didn’t need a little extra help in the beginning.”
He’s talking about Alicia’s drinking nearly twenty years prior. His own cocaine problem in the early 80s. But Jack’s not twenty and whole-hog into a career, he’s a teenager.
She wants to protest on principle, but this isn’t her life. Bob knows this world better than she ever will, and if Jack still wants to play professionally (and he does), she needs to defer to her husband.
If this is what Jack wants, they’ll make it work.
Jack’s energetic, he’s happy, he has a friend he won’t be seen without, and Alicia watches how close Kent’s fingers are to Jack’s when they walk together. It’s not what she expected, but she’s happy he has someone.
She’s not the only one that notices how close the boys are, and Bob turns to her in bed one night, brow furrowed, and says, “Kent Parson.”
“Are he and Jack…?”
She doesn’t say anything, just lifts a brow and gives him a considering look.
Bob’s lips go white with how hard he’s pressing them together. “That’s not going to be easy, for either of them.”
“If it makes him happy,” she argues, and Bob hums in agreement. That should have been the end of it. But something happens, and she’s not there to stop it.
The night before Jack overdoses and his career goes up in flames, the Zimmermann household is in ruins for an entirely different reason.
“Jesus Christ, Robert, I’m supposed to be a goddamn activist, if this gets out —”
“I don’t have a problem with gay people —”
“Don’t lie to me!” Alicia slams her hand on the table, nearly shaking with anger. “You told him to hide.”
“I told him to be discreet. Do you think I’m doing this for me? I’m getting calls day and night from teams wanting to know if the rumors are true. I was trying to be proactive! He can’t be–”
“What? Gay? That’s what you’re worried about? Maybe we can engrave that on the back of my GLAAD award: ‘For excellence in telling your child to hide their sexuality until they retire’. So everyone can know how fucking supportive we are. Does he think I feel the same way you do?”
“I don’t know, I don’t remember,”
“My God, I can’t even look at you right now. You’re going to fix this. I don’t know how, but you’re going to make this right.”
Of course, then they find Jack unresponsive on the floor with a half empty bottle of medication and they don’t immediately know it was an accident.
For about twelve hours, while Jack’s condition is still unstable, Alicia very seriously considers killing her husband.
They’re red-eyed and exhausted in the waiting room when the doctor on call says they need to pray for a miracle. She stares at a stain on the carpet for a long moment, hands clasped, but she’s not praying. Bob makes some kind of sound, a hitching breath that isn’t quite crying, and she turns her head to watch him fidget.
“Robert, look at me,” she says softly, deceptively kind, and when she has his attention, and with more hatred than she ever thought she could possibly feel, she says, “You did this. And I swear to you, if my son dies tonight, I’ll leave.”
She doesn’t wait for him to answer, doesn’t even wait to see the expression on his face. She collects her purse and stands, stretching her legs and heads to the vending machines.
She buys a Dr. Pepper and a bag of Tropical Skittles.
But she moves her GLAAD award to the trophy room. Settles it right beside Bob’s Hall of Fame plaque.
I seriously don’t understand how that character was reinterpreted as a mean, unsmiling, hyper-herterosexual, anti-feminist, heartless jerk.
Is he a firm believer in capitalism and a staunch libertarian? Sure. Does he not much care for fussy things? Of course. Does he eat a lot of meat? Naturally.
But over seven seasons we met a man with a heart as big as the Grand Canyon, his own hobbies and interests (which he talks about with a smile on his face), he becomes a better husband and supportive, albeit sometimes clumsy, father.
His relationships with the women is his life are as varied as the women themselves. With the exception of his ex-wives, he is forthright, respectful, mentoring and supportive.
Leslie and Ron are the perfect extrovert/introvert dynamic. They work their own ways, but the mutual respect and admiration carries the day.
A selection of best Ron moments:
1. “Don’t half-ass two things, whole ass one thing” 2. Renovating the 6th floor of City Hall with his infant son. 3. Pretty much the whole Season 7 arc 4. The Dorothy Every Time Smurf Award for Excellence In Female Stuff 5. Ron helping solve the scavenger hunt Leslie gave Ben 6. Giving Leslie away at her wedding 7. Bonding with Andy when April is sick with the flu 8. Snake Juice!Ron 9. Parenting April and Andy 10. “Any other damn thing you might need.”
Leslie is the heart of the show, but Ron is its moral compass.