A few weeks ago, a thought-provoking post titled “Fandom and its hatred of Black women characters” on Ars Marginal caught my attention. It meticulously detailed the unwarranted criticism and negativity often directed towards Black female characters within various fandoms. It’s a compelling, albeit disturbing, analysis. Reflecting on this, I realized I’ve personally witnessed considerable animosity towards Bonnie from The Vampire Diaries, largely stemming from her disapproval of vampires, particularly Damon. (Imagine, judging vampires for being…vampires).
However, a specific section of that Ars Marginal post resonated deeply in the context of Glee and the character Mercedes Jones:
“What’s so wrong with these characters according to fandom? Hm, let’s see:
- They have an attitude problem.
- They’re lazy.
- They’re mean.
- They’re stupid.
- They’re ungrateful.
- They’re selfish.
- They’re sluts.”
Running through this checklist, it became starkly apparent that almost all these negative traits are ascribed to Mercedes Jones from Glee, not just through fan perception, but worryingly, through her actual portrayal in the show’s writing.
This issue is especially jarring considering Glee‘s vocal stance on celebrating diversity and showcasing “minority” characters who supposedly transcend stereotypes. The show often champions itself for breaking boundaries, yet its handling of Mercedes’ character reveals a significant disconnect between intention and execution.
Glee undeniably grapples with an identity crisis in its messaging. It constantly oscillates between wanting to be a nuanced, character-driven show like Freaks and Geeks and a farcical, over-the-top comedy akin to Arrested Development, often landing in a bizarre territory of melodramatic after-school specials. The series tackles weighty subjects like misogyny, body image issues, and disability one moment, only to “resolve” these deeply rooted societal problems with a simplistic song and dance routine the next. And the less said about Glee‘s problematic treatment of its female characters in general, the better.
Despite these broader issues, one aspect that initially drew viewers to Glee was its purported celebration of diverse backgrounds. On the surface, almost every member of the glee club seemed designed to defy at least one stereotype associated with their racial, ethnic, religious, or sexual identity. Or so it seemed.
Take Artie Abrams, for example. Yes, he is a wheelchair user who dreams of dancing – a plot point frequently revisited. But he’s also portrayed as someone who enjoys rapping and, despite his questionable “gangsta” aspirations, is genuinely talented.
Kurt Hummel, openly gay and interested in fashion and show tunes, also possesses a traditionally masculine side, assisting in his father’s garage since childhood. Blaine Anderson, also gay, is depicted as a football enthusiast, further subverting expectations.
Santana Lopez, with her Puerto Rican heritage, initially embodies the “sassy Latina” stereotype. However, the show delves deeper, revealing her aggressive pursuit of men as a façade masking her true identity as a lesbian, driven by fear of judgment and vulnerability.
Mike Chang and Tina Cohen-Chang, the Asian-American characters, are perpetually identified by their race, often mentioning their Asian heritage in scenes together. They are predictably portrayed as academically driven, reinforcing the stereotype of Asian academic excellence. Yet, Tina also had a goth phase and bizarrely leverages a vampire persona for school favors. Mike, beyond academics, is also athletic and artistically inclined. Interestingly, Mike’s attractiveness is frequently highlighted, while Tina’s, though apparent, is largely unacknowledged, a subtle yet noteworthy point in a culture that often objectifies Asian women while desexualizing Asian men.
Noah Puckerman, the Jewish bad boy, is another attempt at stereotype subversion. He is shown to be inept at math, irresistible to women, self-proclaimed “sex shark,” and fiercely proud of his Jewish identity, even while hilariously contradicting Jewish dietary laws and traditions.
Then there’s Mercedes Jones. She is Black, plus-size, and described as “sassy.” But beyond these superficial traits, her characterization often stagnates, trapped within these very stereotypes.
Mercedes’s Blackness is a constant, often unsubtle, theme. She expresses desires to sing more songs showcasing her “chocolate thunder” and dreams of having “cocoa babies” with her Black boyfriend, emphasizing race in her romantic aspirations. Her favorite musical is, predictably, Dreamgirls. She even penned a song titled “Hell to the No,” built around a stereotypical Black vernacular phrase. While the song itself is catchy, its reliance on such a trope for the Black character is questionable.
Her weight is another defining, and often limiting, characteristic. Her primary storyline in season two revolved around her campaign to bring tater tots back to the school cafeteria, perpetuating the harmful stereotype of plus-size individuals, especially Black women, being solely preoccupied with food. This storyline coincided with an episode featuring a Precious parody, starring a plus-size Black character named Cameo, further highlighting the show’s tone-deaf approach. One could almost expect Mercedes to launch a campaign for fried chicken and watermelon next.
The episode “Asian F,” ostensibly intended to spotlight Mercedes, instead focuses on her supposed tardiness to rehearsals and reluctance to learn choreography. Suddenly, “entitled” and “lazy” are added to her list of stereotypical traits. This portrayal is particularly jarring given that, unlike other New Directions members, Mercedes has never quit the club due to solo disputes, lip-synced in practice, or even been depicted as consistently late. This sudden shift paints her as perpetually lazy and a worse dancer than Rachel Berry, a claim contradicted by performances like “Baby One More Time” and “River Deep, Mountain High.”
Among all Glee characters, Mercedes Jones is arguably the most confined by stereotypes. And episodes intended for her character development often exacerbate this issue. The absence of other prominent Black characters on the show further isolates Mercedes within this stereotypical box. While incorporating a few stereotypical traits might be forgivable if balanced with depth and motivation, Mercedes’s character lacks clear long-term goals, passions, or motivations beyond a generic desire for the spotlight.
The scene in “The Substitute” featuring Kurt, Blaine, and Mercedes perfectly encapsulates this cluelessness. Kurt commends Blaine for “breaking the stereotype,” while in the same scene, Mercedes’s sole focus is on obtaining tater tots. This scene, in its stark contrast, tragically underscores the show’s profound misunderstanding and mishandling of race and character representation, particularly in the case of Glee Mercedes.
