I’m asking this question, in particular, this week, because last Sunday, November 10th, Sesame Street celebrated its 50th anniversary. To be honest, for the folks at Sesame Workshop, the production company behind the long-running show, have been celebrating all year. They came by NPR back in the summer to be interns and to perform at the Tiny Desk.
However, the article about all this coverage that really got my attention, was this one, The Unmistakable Black Roots of Sesame Street that ran on the Smithsonian magazine website.
In it, it talked about how they built the original set of Sesame Street to be modeled after the Bronx, Upper West Side, and Harlem, areas still solidly black in 1969. And the book Street Gang, which goes into the complete back story of the series up to its 40th anniversary in 2009, admitted that their original target was the “4-year-old inner-city black youngster”.
Which, once upon a time, that was me. We still lived in the center city at the time. After taking my dad to work at the school maintenance department, but before my first nap or a trip to bible study or the grocery store or the mall, depending on the day, I’d catch the 9 am airing. Then, on some days, just as my dad’s co-workers would deliver him home, I’d be waiting right for him at the door as I was glued to the 4 pm edition, on days my mom hadn’t decided to turn on Oprah and see what was going on on her show.
I couldn’t get enough of the songs, and the fluffy and feathery Muppets. And yes, the people on the show looked like the mix of people I saw outside. I even can trace my urbanist sensibilities to seeing people laughing and smiling on a stoop that was supposed to be dirty.
My blocks were in North Carolina, so blocks look more like a Long Island suburban street, but nevertheless, this show seemed like it was talking just to me. I’ve carried my foot-sized Big Bird push with me since the crib.
Even today, as it’s gone mostly behind HBO’s paywall with classic episodes airing on PBS , the show continues to include social commentary in the midst of basic childhood lessons. Like that pinball machine.
Especially watching the 40th season opener from 2009 with a pre (outside of Broadway) fame Lin-Manuel Miranda as they troll gentrification and still teach the very real concepts of migration and habitats in the animal kingdom, as well as the very human concept of community and friendship was priceless. They’d already failed in the early 90s to add a more “upscale” element to the street, with Around the Corner. Even then, the block was seen as being open to everyone, not in-spite of everyone. Big Bird wasn’t arrested and his feathers fluffed when he was seen in front of the new hotel around the corner.
Meanwhile, that season 40 opener is the one where my forever first lady Michelle Obama first showed up at 123 Sesame and helped Elmo and Big Bird, and a typical-to-the-show mixture of Muppets and kids, plant some seeds, that later grew into talking Muppet veggies. Plus all our human favorites from the old days, in their twilight years, plus some of the newer, younger faces were there as well.
Even as I fast-forwarded back to a show from earlier this year, in this new HBO-era of the series, the show still packed it’s punch, despite most of the adult authority figures being either white-presenting humans or BIPOC in costumes or in the mouth of a worm (literally), the show only being 30 minutes long (with supposedly more money to spend on programming now that it’s on HBO first), I also don’t like that there’s a parental advisory rating on the first season episodes and so many of those episodes aren’t available, even with so much of the back catalog being on-demand on HBO.
This gets me to something that’s been cooking in my head for a while and I’m thrilled to use Sesame Street as my example for this principle— Certain things cannot be gentrified.
Things like food, tv-shows, music— basically anything that’s cultural and in theory, can be picked up and moved around, no matter how high the rent, property taxes or the mortgage get. I know people love to think artists and gay people raise rents just by their own bodies, but honestly, that’s speculation. Just like cultural appropriation, colonization, all the isms can apply to just about anything. Just like urban renewal, redlining and flat out arson, usury, theft, rape, and murder are at the root of many traumas that gentrification sometimes causes and sometimes amplifies.
Plus, what kid doesn’t like Big Bird. What adult doesn’t like Big Bird. Yes, certain other Muppets that shall not be named, red ones especially, can be annoying. But for every annoying Muppet and streaming service price tag, I can still turn on PBS and at least once a day for 30 minutes, I’m welcome on the stoop at 123 Sesame Street, tattered old Big Bird in hand.
Again, no Sesame Street isn’t gentrified. Digitized? Yes. Capitalized and Paywalled? Yes. Still funny and cute and fun? Absolutely.
Other Things on My Mind
Speaking of Lin-Manuel Miranda— here are his recent thoughts on what makes art political and how he’s incorporated gentrification into his work.
How one of my other favorite kid shows, which addressed neighborhood dynamics, fits into this modern political scene.
And how a couple of other New York brownstones have been models for other TV sets.
I think that there’s merit in speaking directly to Black Americans who are descendants of folks who were enslaved, especially in the United States. I don’t agree with limiting immigration and I don’t agree with preventing or the criticism in which we give to folks with recent continental connections for portraying our Stateside experiences on film. However, we have to be mindful of our classism and how all of us have endured unique oppressions, sometimes from our own skin folk, sometimes from a litany of colonizers.
This is just heartbreaking, how we are just finding out that this former black woman mayor of Harford, Connecticut died.
I’m dabbling back into my Twitter threads, because I want this community here to grow larger and sometimes, a hot take is needed. Here’s one on the BART sandwich incident and what Maryland and Virginia should be spending money on transportation-wise to aid in DC’s growth.
Before You Go
—Check out the job board. I’m working on a job board improvement. Look out for that soon. Also, let me know if you get any of the jobs or opportunities listed on the board.
—Buy a bag or t-shirt from The Black Urbanist store or greeting cards from Les’s Lighthouse. Yeah, the holidays are here, folks. And these are great black queer woman-owned gifts you can give this season!
— Let me come and talk to you about killing your civic-inferiority complex Book me for a lecture, workshop or both. Also Les, my wonderful life partner and sales director is great at hyping you up, making you laugh and helping you or your organization make radical changes in your life and health Book her too. And listen to my wonderful podcast mentee’s The Crossroads Podcast, which also discusses environmental issues from a black woman’s perspective.
–Finally, encourage others to join you in making a monthly pledge on Patreon. As we close out 2019 and close out the decade over the next year, I’m going to be even more visible and visible about what it takes to do the work. I’ve revamped the levels and I’m still adding more giving options. I’m grateful to all of you. Every day is a day of Thanksgiving and I reclaim that day at the end of the month in the spirit of love, liberation, and hope.
I’ll be back next week to dig even deeper on gentrification and clear up how I see it, as my views have evolved, especially as my home state has started to encounter it. Just like Sesame Street.
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