Over twenty years ago, I created a black-and-white illustration that many people found uncomfortable. I titled it America’s Favorite Mammy. It was not drawn out of hatred. It was drawn out of observation. It was my reaction to what I believed was happening in front of our eyes.
At that time, I had watched the rise of Oprah Winfrey from local television in Chicago during the 1980s to global fame. Her story inspired millions. She was presented as a symbol of Black excellence, resilience, and breakthrough success in an industry that historically excluded us. Many of us felt proud. We felt represented.
But as her influence grew, I began to notice a shift. The audience changed. The messaging changed. The focus changed. What once felt rooted in the Black community slowly seemed redirected toward a broader and often whiter consumer base.
My illustration was not about one woman alone. It was about a system. It was about power. It was about what happens when a person rises within structures that were never built with us in mind.
THE IMAGE AND ITS SYMBOLISM
The drawing shows her from the waist up. Behind her stands Stedman Graham holding a baby bottle. In front, a white baby nurses from her breast while she sells a fictional product labeled “Mammy Milk.” It is exaggerated. It is satirical. It is uncomfortable by design.
The word “Mammy” is not random. It is rooted in American history. It reflects the stereotype of the Black woman who nurtures white families while her own community’s needs go unmet. That stereotype was used during slavery and after to make exploitation look natural and loving.
The white baby in the illustration represents what I saw as emotional comfort being provided to white America. The product “Mammy Milk” symbolizes the idea of soothing white guilt. It asks the question: when painful history remains unresolved, who benefits from being comforted, and who benefits from doing the comforting?
This was not an attack on personal success. It was a critique of cultural positioning. It was my way of asking whether mass approval sometimes requires silence on deeper issues that affect our own people.
FROM COMMUNITY ROOTS TO MAINSTREAM ACCEPTANCE
In the early years, her platform spoke openly about struggle, trauma, and empowerment. Many Black viewers saw themselves reflected on screen. But as time passed, the show became known for giveaways, feel-good stories, and lifestyle discussions that appealed heavily to suburban white women.
There is nothing wrong with success. There is nothing wrong with expanding your audience. But there is always a cost. The question is who pays it.
When you enter corporate media at the highest level, you are no longer just a person. You are a brand. Brands are shaped by advertisers. Brands are shaped by executives. Brands are shaped by what makes money. The entertainment industry has gatekeepers. Those gatekeepers decide what topics move forward and which ones quietly disappear.
I began to feel that issues specific to the Black community were no longer centered. Instead of confronting power, the show often seemed to comfort it. Instead of challenging systems, it often focused on individual healing and personal improvement. Healing is important, but systems matter too.
IMAGE MANAGEMENT AND INDUSTRY POWER
When someone becomes globally powerful, every move is calculated. Every relationship is examined. Public image becomes currency. The industry does not reward controversy that threatens its foundation. It rewards stability, profitability, and mass appeal.
Over time, I formed opinions about how carefully constructed that image appeared to be. I questioned whether true transparency can survive inside billion-dollar structures. I questioned whether any public figure at that level is fully free.
The illustration also includes symbolic commentary about image management and public relationships. In powerful circles, appearances matter. Partnerships are sometimes viewed through the lens of branding and optics. That element in my artwork reflects my own long-held suspicions about how celebrity images are shaped and protected. Those views are my personal interpretation as an artist, not claims presented as fact.
What interested me most was not personal gossip. It was the machinery behind celebrity. It was the way mainstream approval can soften a voice that once felt revolutionary.
COMFORT OR CONFRONTATION?
My work has always asked hard questions. Are we satisfied with representation alone? Or do we demand transformation? Is visibility enough? Or does true progress require discomfort?
The Mammy figure in my drawing is not about one individual. It represents a pattern that has existed for centuries. A Black face becomes acceptable when it reassures power rather than confronts it. A Black voice becomes celebrated when it inspires without disrupting.
I believe art should disturb the comfortable. It should expose what polite conversations avoid. That illustration was my attempt to hold up a mirror.
Some people were offended. Some people understood immediately. Two decades later, many who once dismissed the piece now tell me they see what I was trying to say.
THE ROLE OF THE ARTIST
As an artist, I am not here to flatter power. I am here to question it. Political illustration has always used exaggeration to reveal truth. From editorial cartoons to street murals, the goal is to spark thought, not to win popularity contests.
America’s Favorite Mammy was created during a time when few people were willing to question mainstream Black celebrity culture. It was easier to celebrate than to critique. But I have never believed in easy applause.
Art freezes a moment in time. When we revisit it years later, we see whether it still speaks. For me, this piece speaks louder now than it did then.
MY CLOSING REFLECTIONS
I understand that not everyone will agree with my interpretation. That is fine. Art is conversation. It is tension. It is emotion on paper.
What matters is that we examine power honestly. What matters is that we do not confuse wealth with liberation. What matters is that we remember who we are accountable to.
When one of us rises, we all celebrate. But we must also ask what is being traded along the way. Influence without responsibility can slowly shift from empowerment to entertainment.
America’s Favorite Mammy was never about bitterness. It was about awareness. It was about refusing to be hypnotized by glamour.
If the piece still makes people uncomfortable, then it is still doing its job.
Thanks for passing through and let me know what you think….
Sincerely,
SCURV
