Free The List by Sherri L. Lewis Page B

into sports. The guys around the table seemed to like them, though.
    It was hard to read Ms. Carter’s face. She simply nodded and said, “Thanks, Mark. Sounds good. Rayshawn?”
    Rayshawn put on her best fake smile. She was such a brown-noser. She was evil as a snake to her production assistants and editors to the point where no one wanted to work with her. Around Ms. Carter though, she was sickeningly sweet. I had to admit she was a great producer, which I guessed was why she thought she could get away with her diva, serve-me attitude. Right now, her shows were the highest rated at the station, and she made sure no one forgot it.
    â€œIn looking at the market right now, reality shows are hot. I think we would do well to continue to ride the wave. They’re cheap and easy to produce. They’re also quite engaging for the audience because they appeal to the ‘anyone can be a star’ in all of us.”
    She pulled out her treatment. “My first idea is a reality show about girls who want to become music video dancers. In the tradition of American Idol and America’s Next Top Model , we get girls from all over the country who want to be dancers. They go through the audition process, learning how to dance and dress to fit the videos. They’d compete with each other, eliminating one person per show. At the end, the winner gets to be in the latest video by the hottest rapper at the time. We can have rappers as the judges, which will increase our ratings because of the star factor. I’ve already got connections with Nelly, Young Jeezy, and Ludacris, who could be potential judges.”
    I looked around the table to see if anyone else was as disturbed by her idea as I was. Just what we needed. Another television show to degrade black women. What would we call it, Pimping My Hoes ? I shook my head in disgust.
    â€œWhat?”
    I looked up to see Rayshawn looking straight at me. My eyes widened. Nicole always said I needed to learn how to have a poker face. I hoped my look didn’t express what I was thinking. “Huh?”
    â€œYou look like you have a problem with my idea.” I could tell Rayshawn was having trouble keeping her nasty attitude in check. She glanced at Ms. Carter and smiled a little.
    I shrugged and shook my head, hoping to deflect everyone’s attention from me.
    No such luck. Ms. Carter put me on the spot. “Michelle, if you have some thoughts, don’t be afraid to speak your mind.”
    Should I lie and pretend I liked the idea to keep the peace and avoid the wrath of Rayshawn? I could almost see the Holy Ghost glaring at me, arms folded, tapping His foot, saying, “Speak My mind. I put you here for a reason. I got your back.”
    I took a deep breath. Then help me, Holy Ghost. “Well . . . I . . . I’d have to say . . .” I took another deep breath and pretended my sistergirls were around the table rather than cutthroat producers vying to have their shows picked up. “I think music videos have done a lot to affect the way black women look at themselves. And the way society looks at us. We’ve become sex objects dressed in scant clothing, dropping it like it’s hot. No brains, just sex. Our value is in having big booties and boobs and being able to shake them until a man loses his mind. And young girls are buying into it. We owe it to our youth not to continue to promote these images. I volunteer with a church ministry for inner city youth, and the way some of the young girls dress is ridiculous. Sometimes I have to stop them from imitating dances they see on television. They’re twelve years old and want to dress and dance like strippers. And I think black television is responsible for it. So, to have a television show that promotes it . . . I don’t think . . . I think we have to be accountable for what we put on TV.”
    Silence. I could almost hear crickets.
    Rayshawn glared at me. None of the other