Roselyn Miller Champion
Grant Analyst, City of Portland
鈥溌z煤car!鈥 exclaimed a familiar voice, beaming ear to ear through the speaker.
A bit shocked and a little impressed, I asked the voice on the line, one of my best friends, if she鈥檇 been learning Spanish or singing along to . I didn鈥檛 realize her answer would change my life forever.
Well, not exactly forever, but at least for the next 13 hours, the length of time it took me to binge watch both seasons of Netflix鈥檚 One Day at a Time, a reimagining of the original 1975 network comedy. This new One Day at a Time follows a Cuban-American family, with three generations and some chosen family in one household, as they navigate the world. At first glance, the show acts and feels like a normal sitcom. That is, until it challenges political assumptions with punchy one-liners and witty insights on how everyday families, in this case a Latinx one, deal with the struggles and joys of life.
Quoting a line from the show, one specifically from La Reina , the world famous actress who currently dances through the role of the funniest, most dramatic abuela on TV, my friend, a Turkish immigrant living in California, instantly fell in love with her storyline which highlights the universal aspects of life in the U.S. as an immigrant. In fact, my friend and I both got sucked into the show for very much the same reason: It masterfully centers the 鈥渙ther鈥 in average day-to-day life while positively and progressively contributing to difficult-to-avoid conversations in today鈥檚 divisive political landscape. More importantly, the show is absolutely hilarious, light-hearted, and truly accessible.
My friend found the show鈥檚 portrayal of immigration incredibly relatable and saw her non-Latinx family reflected in the different opinions on politics, religion, and cultural values of the characters. I related to the show in a similar way, while also finding it refreshing to see people like me on TV. One Day at a Time offers portrayals of Latinx folks not as 鈥渟picy鈥 gold digging maids or drug smuggling cholas, but as regular people dealing with life鈥檚 typical ups-and-downs – well as 鈥渞egular鈥 as anyone squeezed into a small apartment with their family can be.
More than just a sitcom with charming characters and smart jokes, One Day at a Time complicates issues, moving away from binary politics and toward multiple perspectives and nuanced takes. After effortlessly making you to fall in love with its central family, the show humorously walks with you through several policy issues: from inaccessible mental and physical health resources for veterans and LGBTQ+ rights in religion and cultural practices to the United States鈥 complex immigration system. I laughed so hard through the show that I barely realized I was gaining new language and perspectives from which to talk about social issues.
A show like this, which explicitly makes the political personal, has the power to conversations about immigration, military service and mental health, gender and sexuality, and a multitude of other topics that make family dinner conversations rough. What makes this show particularly innovative, however, is its writing staff鈥檚 abilities to turn the things I cried about in 2017 into things I laugh through tears about in 2018. Additionally, One Day at a Time鈥檚 pointed attention to creating a diverse and representative writer鈥檚 room and crew ensures the show reflects the characters authentically without lazily relying on stereotypes.
Humor, if used carefully and deliberately, has the power to captivate and convince audiences in ways simply stating facts and making cannot. If policy makers and advocates collaborated with comedians a little more often outside of echo chambers and in new and creative ways, laughter could push progressive policy around the world–or at least suck out some of the politically stagnant air that pollutes our lungs in D.C.
For example, last week on International Women鈥檚 Day, 麻豆果冻传媒鈥檚 Global Gender Parity Initiative a video in partnership with the documenting the hilarity of and downright ridiculous narrative around unpaid care work. No, there鈥檚 nothing inherently hilarious about working 24/7 shifts, cleaning up after bodily waste, and managing multiple schedules for free, but the fact that almost no one sees this as 鈥渞eal work鈥 is more than a little funny. Across the globe, women and girls in 2.6 times the amount of unpaid care and domestic work as men, and most countries do not calculate unpaid care work into GDP–contributing to the devaluation of 鈥渨omen鈥檚 work.鈥 The video addresses this blatant gender inequality in a way that keeps audiences engaged, using an improv group to show how ridiculous it is to not see care work as real work.
Comedy reminds us we are all human and living in the world together. We can choose love, levity, empathy, and shared values to lift each other up through even the most serious challenges. Adding a little az煤car into our sometimes bitter conversations helps us assume positive intent and opens avenues for communication across different vantages.
I personally can鈥檛 wait for the next season of One Day at a Time, but in the meantime I鈥檒l continue to create my own opportunities to open more thoughtful conversations with more people, one joke at a time.
This blog is part of Caffeinated Commentary – a monthly series where the Millennial Fellows create interesting and engaging content around a theme. For March, the fellows have decided to create content around the concept of collaboration. They might be in conversation with interesting folks or choose to explore the ways in which different entities could collaborate for the greater social good.聽聽