‘A Black Woman Got Them Judy Blume’

by

Mara Brock Akil first developed feelings for a young man named Stan Bradley in 1986 when she was sixteen years old. Stan was not well-known to her, as his mother owned the beauty salon that Akil’s mother often visited. He had a car and was a year older than her. One day, Akil and her best friend went to the skating rink, where they unexpectedly encountered Stan, and from then on, their story took an interesting turn.

Akil pauses, no longer guiding me through this daydream with her hand. “That’s something I’m saving for my on-screen projects,” she decides. We find ourselves seated on a bench in the Lower East Side on the last day of March, engaging in a conversation that often happens between 12 and 4 a.m. in bars – candid, emotional, uplifting, filled with laughter and quickly followed by an Instagram connection. Akil has allowed me to join her for the New York version of her writing routine, as she wrote much of her Netflix adaptation of Judy Blume’s novel “Forever” at her favorite coffee shop, Ludlow between Houston and Stanton. At 54, Akil is wearing her writing sweater – a large cream-colored cardigan that would make Nancy Meyers envious. She indicates a man leisurely leaving his car, despite causing a minor traffic jam. We both appreciate his unhurried pace, his careful double-check to make sure the dry-cleaner bags weren’t caught in the door. “Human behavior is one of the most fascinating things to observe and try to express,” she notes.

It’s not unexpected that Akil is reluctant to share such an outstanding story. For over three decades, these experiences have served as her primary source of income, dating back to her time as a young writer for UPN’s sitcom Moesha, where she often drew inspiration from her Hello Kitty diary. Since then, Akil has consistently tapped into her own life to generate a multitude of iconic TV shows, all revolving around a common theme: a powerful Black professional woman navigating love and career. This can be seen in shows like Girlfriends, featuring Tracee Ellis Ross, or The Game, starring Tia Mowry, or Being Mary Jane, with Gabrielle Union, or Love Is, starring Michelle Weaver. These series are based on Akil’s life and relationship with her husband, Salim, a successful film and TV producer/writer/director.

Audience eagerly anticipated their weekly encounters with Akil’s characters, who exhibit the same mix of flaws and strength found in real individuals, neither as chaotic as Shonda’s creations nor over-exaggerated like reality TV stereotypes. They ring true. This is why fans still mourn the unresolved issues between Joan and Toni from Girlfriends, or caution others against emulating Melanie when sacrificing dreams for a partner. Akil describes her character-driven writing, both hers and others’, as being “on the spine,” meaning viewers don’t just observe the characters’ lives, but experience them through their perspective or sense them under their skin. (These characters often inhabit the same world: Maya from Girlfriends resides in the same neighborhood as Moesha and occasionally babysits her brother, while Melanie from The Game and Joan from Girlfriends are cousins.) “My projects don’t feature car accidents, murders, or such events,” she states. Instead, Akil focuses on the pain that remains hidden.

2020 saw Akil inking a deal with Netflix; “Forever” marks her premiere with the streaming service. She’s cognizant of the significance – understanding that, as a Black woman, her professional triumph or setback doesn’t just impact her career, but also serves as a reflection for many others. However, she is equally aware that with great responsibility comes great opportunity. “I am conscious of the fact they had wanted one of my projects previously and missed out,” she notes. “A Black woman delivered them Judy Blume.

One of the books that significantly boosted Judy Blume’s reputation as a renowned young adult author, yet also earned her notoriety, is “Forever”. Rather than serving as a warning about the potential perils of premarital sex during adolescence – pregnancy, abortion, and death – this book is essentially a narrative about such experiences, focusing on a young woman with a strong sexual desire. (The ‘Forever’ page on Blume’s official website states that the book was first published in 1975, with her daughter Randy requesting a story about two likeable characters who engage in sex without either of them dying.) Consequently, it ranked as the 7th most frequently challenged book by the American Library Association during the ’90s. Critics labeled it as “essentially a guide to sexual activities for junior-high students”, while others argued that it does not advocate for abstinence or monogamous relationships. In Akil’s modern adaptation, set in 2018 Los Angeles, the story maintains the essence of a classic romance. The introverted wealthy boy, Justin Edwards (portrayed by newcomer Michael Cooper Jr., with an adorable physique), develops feelings for the confident poor girl, Keisha Clark (a radiant Lovie Simone). Misunderstandings lead to disastrous consequences; maintaining physical connections proves simpler than emotional ones, all while tackling contemporary teen issues: a compromising sext being sent to the wrong recipients, an ADHD diagnosis, and deciding whether or not to use Uber.

In concentrating on two Black teenagers, “Akil’s Forever” is more than just a straight remake; it’s a racially charged one, reimagined and altered to uplift Black life. It incorporates storylines and emotional narratives that are distinctively the creator’s, with plot twists and journeys that are indisputably her influence. While Justin, Keisha, Katherine, and Michael (the characters portrayed) navigate similar adolescent emotions such as uncertainty, embarrassment, intelligence, and recklessness, their experiences differ significantly.

For Akil, who initially encountered “Forever” at age 12 (“I shouldn’t have, but we were all reading it”), this wasn’t a problem. A portion of it stemmed from Blume’s powerful writing: “Even though her books didn’t contain much Black representation — or any for that matter — she wrote with such empathy that I could insert myself into the narrative and identify.” The other reason was characteristic of Akil: selecting instances from her life, or those close to her, to incorporate into her stories. When it came to naming the main characters in “Girlfriends”, Akil simply glanced at her bookshelf, where she saw works by Toni Morrison, Maya Angelou, and E. Lynn Harris — and then came Toni, Maya, and Lynn. The title character of “Being Mary Jane” emerged after Akil found herself repeatedly playing Alanis Morrisette’s “Mary Jane” while writing. In “Forever”, when we observe Keisha’s mother (Xosha Roquemore) anxious at the kitchen table, meticulously budgeting on a legal pad, it is Akil portraying her mother Joan — the same name she bestowed upon the protagonist of “Girlfriends”.

In the series “Forever”, Akil’s preferred interior design style is mid-century modern, evident in both her L.A. office and home. Her connection to Northwestern University is also significant, as that’s where she studied. The Edwards family’s annual trip to Martha’s Vineyard, their neighborhood baseball games, and the humor surrounding one mother’s unconventional parenting style are all characteristic of Mara, Mara, Mara.

A common teenage scenario unfolds in both narratives: attending a New Year’s Eve party. This event serves as the starting point for both Blume’s and Akil’s stories. Characters in Blume’s story seem to appear and disappear at will, reminiscent of teleportation. In contrast, Akil’s characters encounter obstacles at their front door; a disagreement ensues when Justin’s parents, particularly his father Eric (Wood Harris) and mother Dawn (Karen Pittman, previously seen in “And Just Like That …”), argue over Justin leaving the house due to Dawn’s perceived control. In response to Eric’s criticism, Dawn expresses her concerns about their safety, stating, “We have cops out here killing Black boys as if it’s a hunting season, and I’m worried?

“The book doesn’t have a lot of plot, but as to the translation of the book — that’s really me,” she said. And thus come the questions that she, as the mother of two boys, has asked herself, that we see reflected back: How do I protect my sons? How do I give him agency? How do I tell him that some people will always see him as a threat, and how do I make sure that’s never true?

In the series, although my character, Justin, isn’t directly connected to Akil’s oldest son, Yasin, Yasin’s personal experiences have significantly shaped my character. Not only that, but Yasin is also the mastermind behind the music that I work with throughout the show.

Following the George Floyd protests in 2020, Akil observed a growing number of young Black individuals opening up about the subtle discrimination they faced within their predominantly white institutions. This revelation both startled and intrigued her. She realized that even an esteemed background does not grant immunity from such issues.

Inspired by this, she chose to set the show in 2018, a period she describes as “a time when Black families were voicing their terror in silence.” I wanted the audience to meet these families during a moment when parents were particularly on edge about parenting due to heightened fear.

After Dawn’s attempt to frighten her son, Justin counters her by bringing up a contrast: “There are students at my school who don’t return home on weekends.” Dawn is unpersuaded and inquires from her hoodie-wearing son what sets him apart from those other children. Recognizing the difference in skin color, Justin admits to this but questions whose responsibility it is. “You enrolled me in a predominantly white school!” he exclaims, puzzled. The family subsequently moves on and after a discussion with his father about guidelines, Justin receives permission to attend the party, where he ultimately finds love in Mara, Mara, Mara.

As a cinema enthusiast, I’d like to share my personal journey that has significantly shaped the characters and stories I bring to life on screen. You see, my parents, two high-school sweethearts, parted ways when I was just 8 years old. When people ask about those who raised me, I always point to my mother, my aunt, and my grandmother – these extraordinary women who embody the strength behind the Black characters I’m known for creating. Although I hold deep respect for my father, he wasn’t a consistent presence in my life. These three remarkable ladies were. Regrettably, my relationship with him remains strained due to our estrangement.

Following their divorce, my mother, Joan, relocated my siblings and me from the vibrant Baldwin Hills neighborhood of Los Angeles to Kansas City. There, she climbed the corporate ladder from a secretary to a computer programmer for a pharmaceutical company, often taking on extra work as a waitress to supplement our education expenses.

Eventually, I found myself at Northwestern University, where I initially pursued journalism before discovering my true passion – screenwriting. This pivotal decision, akin to falling in love, would alter the course of my life. Screenwriting provided me with a feeling, if not more intense, than what I had experienced with Stan Bradley.

Post-graduation, I honed my craft as a production assistant for The Sinbad Show, eventually spending four fruitful years within the writers’ room of Moesha, which I fondly refer to as the Howard University of Black television.

In the year following her departure, in 2000, she sold “Girlfriends” and became the youngest African-American female showrunner in Hollywood. Starting the project wasn’t simple: Although UPN had purchased the show, Akil struggled to find a studio to produce it. (Ultimately, Kelsey Grammer, with his “Frasier” earnings, stepped in as co-executive producer.) She humorously admitted that she knows how to make a dollar out of 15 cents. “I have been fortunate and grateful to tell some incredible stories,” she said, sipping her matcha. Akil’s shows shifted between UPN, The CW, and BET, which were smaller networks compared to, for example, ABC and NBC at the time. However, she later realized that her programming was instrumental in building these networks, reinventing them, and stimulating Atlanta’s economy. She didn’t initially think about this, but it is a fact. Recently, she informed me, she discovered an unflattering truth: She was the only African-American showrunner to have a series on television every year from 2000 to 2015, riding the last wave of broadcast sitcoms.

Akil has a knack for creating shows that capture the public’s interest. The series “The Game” amassed an impressive viewership of 7 million at its peak, shattering network records. In 2013, “Being Mary Jane” debuted on BET and spanned four seasons; before the final episode aired, Akil was already planning “Love Is,” a show inspired by her marriage, for the Oprah Winfrey Network. However, controversy swirled around the couple when actress Amber Dixon Brenner accused Akil’s husband, Salim, of abuse during their secret, decade-long affair. Brenner also alleged that the Akils had stolen the idea for the show from a screenplay she wrote about her relationship with Salim. (No charges were filed, and Salim denied all allegations.) The series was canceled after one season. When I ask Akil, as she begins her new project, if the past events still weigh on her mind, she responds: “No, but I’m intrigued as to why they’re on yours.

In our discussions, there’s one instance where her casual familiarity seems to fade; it appears not everything can be replicated or shared openly, for some matters are too personal, or she may not have enough emotional distance from them yet. It is this intimate exploration of the self that makes Akil and Blume’s work deeply relatable to their audience. Initially, Blume hesitated to allow adaptation of the book due to concerns about its relevance in today’s rapidly changing sexual landscape. However, Akil only spoke with Blume once before writing, emphasizing that the story was more about understanding how we interact with each other as we navigate self-discovery – communication, connection, and conflict – themes that remain timeless. This is the space Blume aimed to provide for her daughter through the book. “We didn’t have those words” – empowerment, autonomy – “in 1982 when I was reading the book,” Akil notes, “but that’s what Judy incorporated into the story.

In the narrative, there’s a primary focus on Katherine, a young woman exploring love and intimacy for the first time, who happens to be white. Akil shifts the perspective: “I believe that Black men are especially vulnerable in such situations, because before I can discuss love and safety with him, I must first address the issue of sexual violence, as a Black man,” she explains. “Your very presence, when considering dating, is terrifying, so you parent from that fear.” The show seems to offer a solution by encouraging parents to provide their children some freedom: “One reason I’m thrilled about having Black leads is that it’s time for society, as parents, to create space for their coming-of-age experiences,” she says. “They believe they’re adults. We know they aren’t. Let them learn and grow. Let’s give them the truth.

In Akil’s relationship with Stan, she sought advice from her mother about starting birth control pills and discussing the prospect of having sex. Their conversation lasted for five hours, covering topics like emotions, love, and their relationship. However, Akil wasn’t ready to engage in sexual activities, while Stan was, which led to their separation. (The relationship reached a point where there was little left to explore.) Despite the breakup, she holds fond memories of Stan and would welcome the opportunity for a catch-up dinner after so many years have passed. “You must keep hold of such memories,” she thinks, “for they serve as reminders that I am capable of making sound decisions, and he was one.

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2025-05-02 22:55