A Point of View: The Future Has Black People 

I recently watched the season finale of Star Trek Discovery, which is a show with perhaps the most diverse cast in history and which guest starred Stacey Abrams as the President of Earth. This show has made me so happy, especially over the last year, when there has been no lack of bleak circumstances. This is not just because it is led by a Black woman (Sonequa Martin-Green) or features an ensemble cast of actors that actually looks like a group of my friends. Star Trek has, since its inception, created a beacon of hope for futures unknown. 

Science fiction and related genres are notorious for having very homogenous casts. Until recently, every major science fiction franchise had been led by white men, with a few white women or people of color sprinkled in. Star Wars, Dr. Who, Stargate, The Matrix, the X-Files, and yes, even Star Trek have centered the leadership and experiences of white men. When most major franchises do decide to expand their scope or cast characters that are not straight, white, able-bodied men, they are often accused of trying to be “woke.” The backlash of the recent casting of the first Black man as Dr. Who is a great example. However, Star Trek was progressive enough to feature both a Black woman and an Asian man (played by Nichelle Nichols and George Takei, respectively) in its original cast, which ran from 1966-1969. The show dealt with decidedly contemporary social issues even then. The present series (there are currently three live action shows) have continued this legacy, exploring the complexities of gender and sexuality, religion, and disability, among other themes.

While the topics, dialogue, and casting of Star Trek may be called “woke,” I see it as a progression toward envisioning a future that more closely reflects our current population. We are different ages, genders, sizes and have different abilities. And contrary to what movies like Elysium would have us believe, there are Black people in the future. I don’t know if there are aliens, but there are definitely fat, disabled, non-English speaking, and queer people in our future. And seeing them (us) on screen is important. 

Afrofuturism, which encompasses not just fiction but music, poetry, and fashion, gives us a chance to imagine and build our own futures. I was originally introduced to the idea of Afrofuturism through the writing of Octavia Butler. Her novels were the first time I saw a Black woman as a protagonist in science fiction. I devoured the books and was disappointed when I realized she was no longer around. I later got into other Black women novelists such as N.K. Jemisin and Tomi Adeyemi. I had found my people. And more importantly, I was seeing myself and people like me living and often thriving beyond our current reality. For a Black millennial, having lived through 9/11, a major recession, multiple wars, unrelenting racism, and now a pandemic, I need help to imagine something else, something brighter.  

Lots of science fiction stories are full of despair. Characters often must navigate their way through various post-apocalyptic futures, fighting for basic necessities just to see another day. Stories such as the Walking Dead, In Time, and the Repo Man are prime examples. Star Trek, in contrast, engages us in the practice of critical hope. That is, “the ability to realistically assess one’s environment through a lens of equity and justice while also envisioning the possibility of a better future” (Dugan, 2017; Duncan-Andrade, 2009). The stories are difficult, but they cultivate a promise of human victory. As a DEI practitioner, I need to be grounded in reality, but also in hope and in the possibility of transformation. Everything is not perfect now, nor will it be in the future. However, we know that better is possible, and we need to keep that in view. The future has room for all of us. It’s time we start making sure our stories reflect that.