The Fresh Prince and I
By: Justin Negash ‘22
It’s 2008, and I’m eating my injera with chickpeas as fast as I can; scarfing down my dinner so that I’m seated and ready for 7:00. I’m ahead of schedule as the medley of infomercials and local plumbing advertisements bombard my television screen. I needed this; after a long day at school, I yearned to enter the world of Bel-Air and its certified ruler: the Fresh Prince. I’m counting the seconds until 7:00 hits as my family finally gets seated on the living room couch (ableit to much less enthusiasm than myself). 7:00 hits, and the fruits of my labor finally get realized.
Finally, the Prince has arrived.
When Quincy Jones first conceived of this show, he had no idea how remarkable its legacy would withstand even thirty years after its inception. Will Smith was a charming, funny, cool and confident young man that captured the hearts of his generation and generations to come. Judge Phillip Banks and Professor Vivian Banks showcased a sense of strength and wisdom that prior shows failed to acknowledge in Black people—let alone professionals. Carlton, Geoffrey, Hillary and Ashley all provided character archetypes different from the stereotypes previously presented to Black people. All of this was because it was a Black narrative created to showcase the true Black experience. It helped introduce the creativity of Black people to the world and, in the process, became an icon for excellence. Transcending pop culture, it has become a defining marker in Black culture; showing the world that Black people can be the dopest, smartest, most genuine people in the room.
For all of the moments that showcased the beauty and power of being Black, there were many moments that highlighted the opposite. There’s a particular episode where Will and Carlton are afforded the opportunity to drive the luxury car of Henry Furth—Uncle Phil’s law partner—down to Palm Springs for a football game with the rest of the family. As the two drive down the highway, they’re alerted to stop by some cops for driving slowly (an idea of Carlton’s to “stay safe”). From the moment the sirens go off, there is a distinct difference in expressions between both Will and Carlton. Their very different approaches to interacting with the police—Carlton’s persistent questioning and Will’s obedient disdain—highlight two mentalities that are addressed at the end of the episode.
After a night of being confused for someone else and almost being sent to a real prison (before Furth and Uncle Phil arrive at the police station to straighten things out), Will and Carlton finally head up to their rooms. Despite everything that had happened, Carlton fully believes that the police were just doing their job; admittedly acting harsh in order to properly serve justice.
Will, frustrated with the lack of cognizance present in his cousin, reminds him of something that hits audiences to this day: no matter how well you cover yourself in wealth, to them you’ll always just be Black.
I certainly felt the intensity as a kid watching this, but rewatching that scene as a 20 year old man shook me to tears. Despite my success, some people in the world will only judge me by the color of my skin. And I love my Black skin, but to be assessed by my physical features and not my character creates an impermeable barrier that is going to take a lot of work to break. Watching the current injustice served towards innocent people like George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, that solution strays further and further from possibility.
Television shows have to balance being an escape from reality, and a sign of the times. For all of the times that “The Fresh Prince” helped me escape my reality and enter a world where being Black was “cool”, I overlooked a lot of its aspects of realism. Jazz putting his hands up in the court house, the boys dealing with racist officers, and the dialogue between Aunt Viv and Will on Black knowledge, education, and the lack thereof. They were all deeply intense—yet necessary—moments in the show that didn’t quite hit as hard until viewing it as an adult. Growing up—and beginning to both experience and truly understand the scope of bigotry in the world—has formed a deeper, more heartfelt appreciation for the show in a way that I couldn’t have imagined before.
The idea of a kid from the hood entering foreign environments is not lost on me; coming from Chicago and attending USC has undoubtedly been one of the most uncomfortable experiences of my life. But we never grow when we’re comfortable. Over the course of six seasons, Will learned valuable life lessons from both his family and whatever characters interacted with him on a given episode. From a boy just chillaxing and maxing on the streets of Philly to a teenaged fish out of water dropped in the middle of Bel Air to a confident young man with the love and support of his family and friends. Will endures struggle in a nuanced way that I couldn’t have understood until I finally began to experience it myself; whether it was subtle microaggresions or outright discrimination, Will learns to grow and overcome the effects of a system that ultimately looks down on people like him.
Whether I knew it or not, the life lessons in these episodes helped a young Black kid find the confidence he needed to not only survive in this world, but thrive. And when I watch it all over again, I feel grateful for seeing the blueprint right in front of my eyes.
