How can a show about nothing, serve as a weekly sermon for us all?
Reflecting on five seasons of a show that has and will continue to be part of the Black cultural zeitgeist is not an easy feat. I alone can think of at least a dozen think pieces I could write on such a show. However, as we arrive at the end of an era, what resonates with me the most is the ritual that was the act of watching Insecure.
Every Sunday for the past five years, as 10 o’clock descends, I start my wine down, bonnet on head with freshly twisted Bantus, and my spirit eager to receive the 30-minute sermon that is an episode of Insecure. In the same way my wash day ritual of cleansing and refreshing my hair was a reset for the week, watching Insecure was my late-night way of setting a mindset and intention for the week.
Holding reverence for a show like Insecure in the same way one holds for Sunday church service might seem blasphemous to some, but I argue the lessons I took watching 30-something-year-old, career-minded, Black women navigate life unapologetically, resonates far more than the book of Leviticus ever could. #SorryBabyJesus
Insecure is a show about nothing. The plot is nothing spectacular and the characters are quite ordinary. If Insecure went by another title, it could’ve just as easily been called, “Niggas be Livin”. Episodes move at the pace the characters’ lives, sometimes slow, sometimes fast, but often chaotic and unpredictable in the same way life moves.
Over the course of 43 episodes of Insecure, we rarely find closure. The show is not packaged in a way that offers a clear problem and solution to each episode. There is no crescendo and denouement clearly outlined week to week. However, there are often many conflicts all occurring at once. Rarely ever does a single challenge take clear precedent or priority over the other. We see Molly struggling to navigate the perils of the workplace while also keeping her hoe-tation in check. We watch Issa struggle to maintain a home while also trying to build her career. This is art imitating life. I don’t get to compartmentalize my love life, my work life, my friend life, my me time, my family time, my work time…it’s all happening all at once and I simply go with it.
I’m on some know better, do better shit.
This is perhaps, the real testament of a show like Insecure. Unlike the bible which ends in fiery and descriptive days of mankind before the Lord comes to restore the earth, Insecure brings no such clear and descript closure. It is a show that simply exists to tell the stories of many Black women all at once, all existing in the same space and time, but leading the most ordinary of lives. Yet somehow, after 5 seasons of showing us the regular, everyday experiences of these women, Insecure is extraordinary in every way.
Everyone I associate with is thriving, in abundance.
There are many shows and movies about Black women that have come before Insecure, and I’ve seen most of them. Living Single, Girlfriends, For Colored Girls, Waiting to Exhale… But what Insecure has managed to do that no other show has done, is tell our stories in a way that is authentic to the everyday lived experiences of Black women without coming across as preachy, glamorized for Hollywood, or too perfect to be true.
Look at us, thirty, single, Black, thriving.
Insecure is the new blueprint for telling the story of the American Black Woman. As viewers of Insecure, we gave up control to the characters on screen in a way that no other show has allowed us to. There was no pace to the show, with time often being unclear, replayed from multiple perspectives, rewound, re-imagined, and fast-forwarded. We simply just watched and accepted the reality as it presented itself. Though we all turned to Twitter to debrief week to week, expounding on our wants and desires for the episodes to come, the writers and creators were relentless in assuring us don’t have hope, this is real life on screen.
Get out of the should, and live in the could.
Every week left questions lingering and unanswered. Each character tested our patience just as our real-life friends, family, and coworkers do. Each week we were blessed to get a glimpse into the lives of multidimensional and unapologetically Black women.
Of note, and perhaps what makes Insecure such a spectacular work of art is its ability to be so culturally relevant, without being the least bit preachy. Again, each episode reminded me, “niggas be livin”.
Though I frequently find myself frustrated by white people, irritated by the impact of this pandemic, wanting to cry out Black Lives STILL Matter!, eye-rolling at the nonsense that is our political and governmental circus, staring into the void of despair that is our planet…this is not a practical way to live every moment of my life. It’s impossible to think that in any 24 hour period, I have that much time and energy to worry about things beyond my control. In that way, Insecure does an incredible job of seamlessly weaving in the socio-political ills of our society with such a sublty and grace that it can only be explained as “if you know, you know”. This is a show written for us, by us, and it is unapologetic in expressing that.
We’ve given white people enough time.
Insecure still manages to cover topics like the wage gaps of Black women in the workplace, police brutality, the #MeToo Movement, Black Lives Matter, the disparities in Black healthcare, and so much more without being explicit, heavy-handed, or too “in-your-face” with these conversations. In the same way, I live out my life as the main character of my own narrative, these women too live their lives in a way that allows them the grace to tap in and tap out of what is happening more broadly in the world without ever feeling overburdened by the weight of these challenges.
I believe Issa Rae stated before the start of the season, “there will be no pandemic in Season 5”. For that I am grateful. When I go back in a few years to rewatch the show, I will be glad there wasn’t a point where art imitated life so much that the joy of watching TV became overshadowed by the misfortunes in our realities.
So now that 43 episodes have come to a close, I again ask the question, what do we make of all of this? What was the point of Insecure? Clearly, it wasn’t just a show about nothing. But what was it in the end?
I would argue more than anything, Insecure is a show about growth. Fittingly, one of the most popular gifs/memes to come from Insecure is Kelli Penny’s famous line, “You know what that is? Growth.”. There are many lessons to take away from the show, many parables to be reminded of, many quotes to be referenced like scripture. However, it is the growth in my own life that mirrored the lives of the women on screen that made me feel most at ease when watching week to week.
If Sunday sermons could be as robust and dynamic as life itself, forgiving folks for their indiscretions, showing the humanity of humility, being at peace with insecurities, limiting expectations of perfection, maybe we would find more young folks in the church…but that’s another conversation for another day.
No one was doubting me except for me.
What does reign supreme in the land of Insecure is the ability to be at peace with the journey that is life. Though not always peaceful, life is about the ability to make mistake after mistake, to lose control, to destroy relationships. Just like the ability to heal, to forgive, the ability to give and show grace, we bear witness to it all week after week on Insecure. Through Issa, Molly, Kelli, Tiffany, Lawrence, Nathan, and all the other characters that weave in and out of the Insecure orbit, I try to find common ground in their journeys without (much) judgment.
I feel blessed to exist in a time when a show like Insecure has graced our screens. The gift of Issa Rae. The talent that is the supporting cast. I am not sure where I will go for my weekly sermons from here on out, but I feel fortunate to know that I can always turn to the book of Insecure to give myself an uplifting word.
You went from ‘We Got Y’all’, to ‘I got mine’.
