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1. Racism and Mainstream Media / Lori Kido Lopez -- 2. Image Analysis and Televisual Latinos / Mary Beltrán -- 3. Visualizing Mixed Race and Genetics / Meshell Sturgis and Ralina L. Joseph -- 4. Listening to Racial Injustice / Dolores Inés Casillas and Jennifer Lynn Stoever -- 5. Branding Athlete Activism / Jason Kido Lopez -- 6. The Burden of Representation in Asian American Television / Peter X. Feng -- 7. Indigenous Video Games / Jacqueline Land -- 8. Applying Latina/o Critical Communication Theory to Anti-Blackness / Mari Castañeda -- 9. Asian American Independent Media / Jun Okada -- 10. Remediating Trans Visuality / Amy Villarejo -- 11. Intersectional Distribution / Aymar Jean Christian -- 12. Podcasting Blackness / Sarah Florini -- 13. Black Twitter as Semi-Enclave / Raven Maragh-Lloyd -- 14. Arab Americans and Participatory Culture / Sulafa Zidani -- 15. Diaspora and Digital Media / Lia Wolock -- 16. Disrupting News Media / Meredith D. Clark -- 17. Latinx Audiences as Mosaic / Jillian M. Báez -- 18. Media Activism in the Red Power Movement / Miranda J. Brady -- 19. Black Gamers' Resistance / Kishonna L. Gray -- 20. Cosmopolitan Fan Activism / Susan Noh.

This book develops a nuanced decolonial critique that calls for the decolonization of media and communication studies in Africa and the Global South. Last Moyo argues that the academic project in African Media Studies and other non-Western regions continues to be shaped by Western modernity’s histories of imperialism, colonialism, and the ideologies of Eurocentrism and neoliberalism. While Africa and the Global South dismantled the physical empire of colonialism after independence, the metaphysical empire of epistemic and academic colonialism is still intact and entrenched in the postcolonial university’s academic programmes like media and communication studies. To address these problems, Moyo argues for the development of a Southern theory that is not only premised on the decolonization imperative, but also informed by the cultures, geographies, and histories of the Global South. The author recasts media studies within a radical cultural and epistemic turn that locates future projects of theory building within a decolonial multiculturalism that is informed by trans-cultural and trans- epistemic dialogue between Southern and Northern epistemologies.

Television is predisposed to the perception that it is the opposite of art and politics and that it is a time-consuming means for “dumbing down,” placating, disempowering and benumbing the citizenry. Through a discussion of the place of art and that of television, I use, as a conceptual framework, the convergence of the white cube and the black box to interrogate dynamics of postcoloniality, vision and power and how this forged divergent modernisms. Television in Africa did not, as with postwar America, create a sense of collective communities of spectatorship that would be brought closer to art appreciation through television. Rather, television, as the political, social and cultural phenomenon of modernization in various African countries, seemed to corrupt what was regarded as “pristine” cultural practices. However, since it coincided with colonial independence and the emergence of postcolonial nations, it became intertwined with various modes and mediums through which new forms of social consciousness aimed at self-definition and self-representation could be disseminated. The convergence of the white cube spaces of art and the black box of television enables an engagement with the colonial spatio-temporal distanciation of Africa from the global stage.

Ce travail vise à montrer deux choses. La première, c’est de saisir toute l’importance du tournant postcolonial/afro-décolonial dans la construction d’une contre-épistémologie propre au sujet culturel colonisé africain. En d’autres termes, pour le sujet colonisé, cette contre-épistémologie sert à décoloniser les imaginaires, à partir d’un questionnement de la colonialité de l’épistémologie et du savoir donnés pour universels par l’occident. La deuxième chose, c’est que ̶ à quelques mois de la commémoration du centenaire de la naissance du prolixe et polygraphe auteur africain-colombien Manuel Zapata Olivella (1920-2004) ̶ cet article puisse le situer à sa juste place. Celle d’un sujet culturel colonisé africain des Amériques dont l’abondante production culturelle et la pensée, portées et révolutionnées par le concept de Muntu africain, participent de la décolonisation des imaginaires et de l’épistémologie

Searching the critical work of post-colonial critics, the author found much writing that bespeaks the continued fascination with the way white minds, particularly the colonial imperialist traveler, perceive blackness, and very little expressed interest in representations of whiteness in the black imagination. Some white people may even imagine there is no representation of whiteness in the black imagination, especially one that is based on concrete observation or mythic conjecture. Stereotypes black folks maintain about white folks are not the only representations of whiteness in the black imagination. Yet it is this representation of whiteness in the black imagination, first learned in the narrow confines of poor black rural community, that is sustained by the author travels to many different locations. Theorizing diverse journeying is crucial to the people understanding of any politics of location.

Studies investigating the representation of Africans and other ethnicities are scarce in video game literature. Using a content analysis approach, this paper examines Africans’ representation in ten of the most popular games of 2014 in the United States based on industry market research reports. The findings show that Africans are underrepresented in video games explored in this study. The study also reveals that African characters in these games did not play leading roles in the storyline. Results are discussed as they pertain to Africans’ representation in video games, media effect, and media literature. This exploratory study broadens the discussion on representation in video games to other ethnicities and shows the need for studies on representation in contemporary video games that include understudied ethnicities.

Game Devs & Others: Tales from the Margins tell the true stories of life in the industry by people of color, LGBTQIA and other marginalized identities. This collection of essays give people a chance to tell their stories and to let others know what life on the other side of the screen is like when you’re not part of the supposed “majority”. Key Features This book is perfect for anyone interested in getting into the games industry who feels they have a marginalized identity For those who wish to better diversify their studio or workplace who may or may not have access to individuals that could or would share their stories about the industry Includes initiatives aimed at diversifying the industry that have a positive or negative impact on the ongoing discussions Coverage of ajor news items about diversity, conferences aimed at or having diversity at its core of content and mission are discussed Included essays are written with as little game dev specific jargon as possible, makeing it accessible to people outside the industry as well as those in the scene but that may not have all the insider lingo

From #Gamergate to the daily experiences of marginalization among gamers, gaming is entangled with mainstream cultures of systematic exploitation and oppression. Whether visible in the persistent color line that shapes the production, dissemination, and legitimization of dominant stereotypes within the industry itself, or in the dehumanizing representations often found within game spaces, many video games perpetuate injustice and mirror the inequities and violence that permeate society as a whole. Drawing from the latest research and from popular games such as World of warcraft and Tomb raider, Woke gaming examines resistance to spaces of violence, discrimination, and microaggressions in gaming culture. The contributors of these essays identify strategies to detox gaming culture and orient players toward progressive ends, illustrating the power and potential of video games to become catalysts for social justice

Feminism in Play focuses on women as they are depicted in video games, as participants in games culture, and as contributors to the games industry. This volume showcases women's resistance to the norms of games culture, as well as women's play and creative practices both in and around the games industry. Contributors analyze the interconnections between games and the broader societal and structural issues impeding the successful inclusion of women in games and games culture. In offering this framework, this volume provides a platform to the silenced and marginalized, offering counter-narratives to the post-racial and post-gendered fantasies that so often obscure the violent context of production and consumption of games culture.

How have video games evolved to now create meaningful stories about race and sports? This essay examines how Spike Lee's film-within-a-game, Livin' Da Dream (2015), reproduces some existing procedural and racial logics that reflect the desire to constantly manage and contain the centrality of black athletic greatness in mainstream sports and video game culture. While Lee's long-form cinematic model for turning sports video games into narrative games has been emulated across the medium as a whole, fans and gamers continually discuss the film as an evidently "broken" part of the popular NBA 2K video game series. As I argue here, however, the film-within-a-game productively insists on a default blackness when it functions as what I call "procedural cinema" (a rules and process based narrative). Ultimately, in functioning procedurally, Lee's otherwise conservative melodramatic story serves as a particularly instructive example of how computational blackness may, in systematically subverting the rules of the game, signify disruptively both within and against the machine.

"The Routledge Companion to Media and Race serves as a comprehensive guide for scholars, students, and media professionals who seek to understand the key debates about the impact of media messages on racial attitudes and understanding. Broad in scope and richly presented from a diversity of perspectives, the book is divided into three sections: first, it summarizes the theoretical approaches that scholars have adopted to analyze the complexities of media messages about race and ethnicity, from the notion of 'representation' to more recent concepts like Critical Race Theory. Second, the book reviews studies related to a variety of media, including film, television, print media, social media, music, and video games. Finally, contributors present a broad summary of media issues related to specific races and ethnicities and describe the relationship of the study of race to the study of gender and sexuality"--Provided by publisher.

This book seeks to interrogate the representation of Black women in television. Cheers explores how the increase of Black women in media ownership and creative executive roles (producers, showrunners, directors and writers) in the last 30 years affected the fundamental cultural shift in Black women’s representation on television, which in turn parallels the political, social, economic and cultural advancements of Black women in America from 1950 to 2016. She also examines Black women as a diverse television audience, discussing how they interact and respond to the constantly evolving television representation of their image and likeness, looking specifically at how social media is used as a tool of audience engagement.

Gaming Representation' offers a timely and interdisciplinary call for greater inclusivity in video games. The issue of equality transcends the current focus in the field of Game Studies on code, materiality, and platforms. Journalists and bloggers have begun to hold the digital game industry and culture accountable for the discrimination routinely endured by female gamers, queer gamers, and gamers of color. Video game developers are responding to these critiques, but scholarly discussion of representation in games has lagged behind. Contributors to this volume examine portrayals of race, gender, and sexuality in a range of games, from casuals like Diner Dash, to indies like Journey and The Binding of Isaac, to mainstream games from the Grand Theft Auto, BioShock, Spec Ops, The Last of Us, and Max Payne franchises. Arguing that representation and identity function as systems in games that share a stronger connection to code and platforms than it may first appear, 'Gaming Representation' pushes gaming scholarship to new levels of inquiry, theorizing, and imagination.

Within Spoken Soul, better known as Ebonics, the term down can be used as an adjective to describe a person that willingly yields a tremendous amount of support to another person. The “Down Ass Bitch” (DAB) is a controlling image of the black woman that calls for her unwavering support of the black man, even when it is pernicious to her best interest. In fact, we can see this in the black community on many levels: (1) from black women faithfully waiting years for men to be released from prison; (2) hiding domestic abuse or rape at the hands of black men for the sake of protecting the race; or (3) sexually exploiting our bodies for the financial benefit of black men. However, what is most interesting about this particular stereotype of the black woman being “down” for her man is that this is not an expectation that is asked of the black man. It is this author’s contention that the “Down Ass Bitch” is obsequious to the powers of black men— though she is portrayed as being strong, aggressive, and assertive. Essentially, the “Down Ass Bitch,” a highly celebrated image in the black community, is the black version of the submissive white woman, the Eurocentric construction of the idealized womanhood. Various controlling images of black womanhood— such as the mammy, the jezebel, and the welfare queen— served as justifications for the oppression of black women and have been discussed significantly by scholars.

In this chapter we analyze three reality TV (RTV) shows whose main characters do not fit the old movie stereotypes of dark-skinned maternal Mammies, bossy, brown Sapphires or light-skinned sexy Jezebels. Many RTV shows with black cast members are falling back on such stereotypical representations. In contrast, the female characters we analyze are smart and sophisticated, and they live in multi-racial environments. Hence, the primary mediarelated question we address concerns how one slice of black motherhood is represented. The social question we address concerns the extent to which the character presentations actually point to social progress, with diverse symbols and meaning making of real life, or are they as artificial and stereotypical— perhaps in new ways— as the old portrayals?

In recent years, scripted television has been joined by a more “realistic” look into peoples’ lives— reality television. Reality television claims to give viewers an unmediated glimpse into how real people live. The “realness” of reality television invokes controversy by providing a voyeuristic and potentially exploitive look into people’s lives. As the genre has matured, shows that offer insight into communities that are systemically underrepresented have become common. Indicative of this trend are shows that depict the lives of African Americans and opportunistically exploit representations of black culture for drama, ratings, and profit. One network that has taken considerable advantage of this is VH1— first, with the success of Flavor of Love and its spinoffs, then more recently with shows such as Basketball Wives and Love and Hip Hop. In fact, the excessive amount of fighting among Black women on Basketball Wives led to a boycott of the show, which prompted creator Shaunie O’Neal to promise less violence in its next season. Akin to Basketball Wives , Love and Hip Hop Atlanta exemplifies the trend of exploiting black culture. As members of the black community, we find ourselves both intrigued and troubled by the implications of the show. Capturing the essence of our paradoxical interpretation of Love and Hip Hop Atlanta — as one of many reality television shows that simultaneously reproduces and challenges negative stereotypes about blackness— are contradictory headlines such as “The 21 Most Ratchet Women of Black Reality TV,” “How Reality TV has Changed our Daughters,” and “Wealthy Reality Stars Humanize Black Women.”

Jones’ comments reflect a general consensus among TV critics and viewers that: 1) the black women who command the most attention on reality television tend to portray stereotypical, Sapphire-like characters; 2) as audiences consume such portrayals, there is a consistent line of argument from producers that insists “pitting [black women] against each other” is expected or “what the people want;” and 3) black female reality TV stars are willing to indulge the Sapphire fantasy if it means they will be able to further a personal and/or professional agenda. These are important themes to interrogate, especially given the history of mass mediated representations of black Americans, as well as the present-day “evolution” of black characters and other characters of color on unscripted and scripted American television. However, because attention is primarily focused on arguably “negative” portrayals, there has not been much critical analysis of “alternative” or more nuanced portrayals of black women in the televisual sphere. This chapter represents an attempt to fill in some of that blank space by focusing attention on an underexplored and relatively new consortium of reality television programming that features black women who are defined by their roles as mothers and entrepreneurs.

The display of spirituality, faith and religion is not a new phenomenon among black women in the United States, nor is it new to the world of media. Africans came to the Americas with their own sense of spirituality and religion, and the awareness of a higher being became the mortar that bound the community together during the trials of enslavement and subsequent oppression. Not surprisingly, this legacy of worship continues to provide solace and strength, with black women at the helm.