Black Women Won Big At The Emmys — But It’s Embarrassing Award Shows Are Still “Making History”

The 75th Primetime Emmy Awards was a genuinely fun, surprisingly sincere celebration of television. You could tell that the production team behind the show (the first all-Black team to helm the Emmys) knows and loves TV as much as the audience that stayed up on a holiday Monday to watch an awards show about television. The 2023 Emmys mined 75 years of the medium it celebrates to bring us moments reuniting the casts of classic shows like Martin, Cheers, Grey’s Anatomy, Ally McBeal, and It’s Always Sunny In Philadelphia, just to name a few. I’m a nostalgia-obsessed millennial, so I really enjoyed these reunions, almost as much as I enjoyed watching multiple (!!!) Black women win their respective categories last night. It was a historic evening, not just for Ayo Edebiri, Quinta Brunson, and Niecy Nash-Betts, but for other winners of color who became firsts (like Ali Wong and Trevor Noah). Their wins were all deserved. Their wins should be celebrated. And their wins being well-placed exceptions in the Television Academy’s 75-year history of giving out awards should also be embarrassing for the Emmys. The retrospective reunions juxtaposed with the groundbreaking wins just further exposed how exclusionary the institution has been in the past, and how egregious it is that so many Black actors and their shows have been overlooked (Martin never won a single Emmy! Let’s start there). We can walk and chew gum at the same time, so I think we’re more than capable of simultaneously honoring our faves and acknowledging that the system that shut out so many others still exists — and that it doesn’t get dismantled in one night.

Three years ago, I wrote a piece called “When Black Women ‘Make History’ At Awards Shows, There’s Always A Catch” about Beyoncé and Viola Davis, two of the most awarded women in their respective fields. The point was that even when Black women do win awards or get recognized by these legacy white institutions, there’s always a caveat. In Beyoncé’s case, it was that she still gets shut out of the major categories at The Grammys (she has yet to win album of the year), and in Davis’, it was that her number of nominations (and her wages as an A-list actress) pale in comparison to her white peers. Last night watching the Emmys, I found so much joy in rooting for everybody Black, and screaming at my screen when Edebiri and Brunson won Best Supporting Actress and Best Actress in a Comedy back-to-back in the broadcast. Edebiri’s portrayal of Sydney on The Bear is funny, complex, vulnerable, and my favorite thing on television (since the show was postponed due to the writers’ and actors’ strikes, these Emmys are for season 1). Brunson’s Janine on Abbott Elementary is sunshine incarnate, a balm in these bad times and a light in the darkest timeline. She is an instantly iconic comedic character who  stands toe-to-toe with the greats who came before her (fittingly, Carol Burnett presented Brunson with her award). I wish there wasn’t anything else to say about their wins other than “I KNOW THAT’S RIGHT!” but, unfortunately, there is. 

Brunson’s win was the second for a Black actress in the category, and the first in 42 years (since Isabel Sanford for The Jeffersons). Let that sink in. Quinta Brunson, in the year 2024, is only the second Black actress ever to win the Emmy for lead actress in a comedy, and the first in over 40 years. For over 40 years, the Emmys hasn’t rewarded a single Black woman in this category. Think of the funniest person you know; it’s a Black woman, isn’t it? Imagine not acknowledging Black women leads in comedy for over 40 years. Issa Rae is not an Emmy winner. Tracee Ellis Ross has never won this category. Brunson absolutely deserved to stand on that stage to tearfully accept her award, but when these stats are trotted out as wins for “diversity,” I think we should also point out that they aren’t just fun anecdotes to use in a trivia game. They’re glaring reminders of the inequity that permeates through the industry. As I said when I wrote about Beyoncé and Davis, “celebrating these superficial accolades without critique does a disservice to the structural issues that are still entrenched in these organizations — and those issues are worse for Black women.” The optimistic read of the Emmys’ historic night would be that it’s just the beginning, and  from now on, Black women will continue to get their due. I bet they said the same 42 years ago. There have only been three Black women to win Edebiri’s category, Best Supporting Actress in a Comedy, and the last winner was Sheryl Lee Ralph in 2022. Two in a row. That’s a good sign, right? I hope so, but if history is any indication, progress at the Emmys isn’t linear. Between Lee Ralph and her predecessor Jackée Harry, there were 35 years. Last night, five of the 12 acting Emmys went to actors of color, tying a record set in 1991 when Lynn Whitfield, Madge Sinclair, Ruby Dee, and James Earl Jones (he won two) all won their categories, according to The Hollywood Reporter. When something happens every 30 years, it’s not a signal of change, it’s an anomaly. Black folks winning awards they deserve shouldn’t be as rare as a celestial event. 

Later in the broadcast, Brunson presented alongside The Jeffersons and 227 star, living legend Marla Gibbs. She’s 92. In a scripted bit before they read the nominees for Supporting Actress in a Limited or Anthology Series or Movie, Brunson asks, “You got your first job in 1973, and you’re still working. What’s the secret to working in Hollywood for so long?” Without missing a beat, Gibbs replies, “Oh that’s easy, baby: the wage gap. I got to work 20 more years before I retire, but if you great writers write something for me I’ll just keep on working and cut into that wage gap. Black don’t crack, baby. It’s never too late.” The quip was met with laughter and applause, and it was incredible to see Gibbs land her comedic timing and really prove that her Black ain’t cracking, but there was also — like most good jokes — sad truth behind the bit. We know the wage gap for Black women in Hollywood exists. Thanks to Taraji P. Henson, the conversation about what Black women are owed in the industry has been at the forefront of this awards season. Gibbs was joking, of course, but was she? During an event that was postponed because workers literally had to go on strike to get what they deserve (and we know Black women are impacted even more by these inequalities), a 92-year-old woman got on stage and said she has to work for 20 more years before she retires. Whether it was just for laughs or not, Gibbs’ quip spoke to one of the reasons it’s so hard to celebrate these wins indiscriminately. While an Emmy is a definite career boost, it doesn’t pay your bills. As Edebiri joked in the press room after her win when asked how she stays grounded, “I’m still renting.” My hope is that these awards come with a salary boost and financial stability. 

Gibbs and Brunson presented Niecy Nash-Betts with her first Emmy for her work in the Netflix series Dahmer — Monster: The Jeffrey Dahmer Story. In the best speech of the night, Nash-Betts brought the audience, which included Issa Rae, Colman Domingo, and Taraji P. Henson, to its feet. The moment that has gone viral, and delivered only in the way Nash-Betts could, is when she thanked herself. “I want to thank me, for believing in me and doing what they said I could not do… I want to say to myself in front of all you beautiful people, ‘Go, girl, with your bad self. You did that!’” Again, it was another lighthearted moment that could be understood for its deeper context in Hollywood. Nash-Betts is a Black woman who has been working in the industry for decades. Like Henson, she has longevity and respect that should also come with accolades and pay proportionate to her white peers. We know that’s not the reality for Black actresses. So when she thanks herself for “believing in me and doing what they said I could not do,” it’s not just a motivational moment that we’ll be seeing on our timelines for weeks to come. It’s a reclamation of power, a statement of self reliance, and an indictment on the industry that didn’t believe in her, and that consistently undervalues and under-acknowledges Black women. Nash-Betts also accepted her award, “on behalf of every Black and Brown woman who has gone unheard yet overpoliced. Like Glenda Cleveland. Like Sandra Bland. Like Breonna Taylor,” she said. “As an artist, my job is to speak truth to power, and baby, I’ma do it ’til the day I die.” As always, Nash-Betts understood the assignment. And as awards season continues, I hope her peers remember that an artist’s job is to speak truth to power. 

There was a lot of subtext at the 75th Emmy Awards. Hidden beneath jokes and inspirational moments, the underbelly of the industry was showing. When Martin Lawrence and his co-stars Tisha Campbell, Carl Anthony Payne II, and Tichina Arnold walked on stage in a replica room from their beloved sitcom Martin, the entire gag was about how the show never won an Emmy (it was also never even nominated), and it ended with Lawrence saying, “It’s all good. I’m just excited to be here on the Emmys stage.” As excited as we were to see them on that stage, this is where I have to interject. Martin Lawrence shouldn’t have to settle for just being excited to present an award at the Emmys; his iconic show that still has a lasting impact decades after it ended should have all the awards. I hope Edebiri, Brunson, and Nash-Betts are reveling in their much-deserved accolades and basking in the shine they earned. But I also want to acknowledge the women who fell through the cracks of the Emmys’ inconsistent progress. I think they would too. In the comedy categories, these wins also belong to Tichina Arnold, Tisha Campbell, Kim Fields, Erika Alexander, Brandy, Natasha Rothwell, Yvonne Orji, and Mo’Nique — I could go on. Kerry Washington has never won an acting Emmy (she won one as a producer). Neither has Gabrielle Union or Jurnee Smollett or Gina Torres or Nicole Beharie or Aja Naomi King and so many other women who could act circles around their counterparts. 

Awards are subjective. And maybe these actresses will get their accolades in due time. Or maybe they won’t. The fact that in 75 years, there’s still history being made when it comes to rewarding Black talent is just more proof that recognition from legacy institutions will not save us, and that the ecosystem of Hollywood that hinges on awards for development deals and as a marker of success is set up for them to fail. Listen, I know awards are fun. I’m not trying to suck the joy out of this moment. But I also don’t want it to be fleeting. The headlines about the Emmys today will celebrate its diversity. The show will be championed for finally acknowledging the right people and their work. Our faves will get their flowers. As they should! You know what they should also get? Money. And the same perks and privileges their white peers get. Maybe Hollywood really is changing, and last night was an indication of that shift, or maybe we’ll have to wait another 30 years to see so many of our faves win. Either way, for now, we can celebrate our cousins in our heads, Brunson and Edebiri, and yell “Mother!” at Nash-Betts while holding the Television Academy accountable for its unfortunate voting history. Black women made history at The Emmys. It’s time these “firsts” remain relics of the past and become obsolete in the future.