Diversity in Entertainment: Why Is TV So White? http://www.ew.com/ew/article/0,,20206185,00.html Cleveland Brown favors gentle words, and few words at that. He likes yellow T-shirts and baths. He is also fiercely proud of his African-American heritage, as evidenced by his ''Two Decades of Dignity'' board game and that nice talk he had with a racist cop about how a black bowling ball might feel when surrounded by white pins. It's a good thing, too, because Cleveland Brown is shaping up as network television's great black hope for the 2008-09 season — he's the only minority character anchoring a new series on the Big Five networks. Granted, his Family Guy spin-off, The Cleveland Show, didn't even make it onto the fall schedule (it's slated for midseason). Yes, Cleveland himself is merely a figment of animation. And true, the person who provides his voice, Mike Henry, is actually white. But hey, it's a start, right? These days, the networks need to ensure that even their cartoons of color count. After a period of making a public effort to focus on diversity in their casting — kick started by an NAACP outcry over the white TV landscape in 1999 — the networks have clearly started to lose that focus, and not just when it comes to African-Americans. Today the current prime-time lineup, including fall's 14 new scripted shows, is looking alarmingly pale. According to an Entertainment Weekly study of scripted-programming casts for the upcoming fall 2008 season, each of the five major broadcast networks is whiter than the Caucasian percentage (66.2 percent) of the United States population, as per the 2007 census estimate. And all of the networks are representing considerably lower than the Latino population percentage of 15.2 percent, with The CW — whose only lead Latina star, JoAnna Garcia, will be playing a white character named Megan Smith on Surviving the Filthy Rich — registering just 3.8 percent. After the quiet and unceremonious departure this winter of eight-season hit Girlfriends (the No. 15 show in all prime time among African-American audiences), The CW's black comedy block (inherited from predecessor UPN) has shrunk to just two sitcoms: critical darling Everybody Hates Chris (No. 29 among African-Americans) and The Game (No. 7 among African-Americans), which have both been relegated to the dead zone known as Friday nights this fall. And with very few exceptions (like black actress Niecy Nash, who costars with Jerry O'Connell in Fox's hotel sitcom Do Not Disturb), spring's annual presentation of the new lineups looked largely like a parade of Caucasian stars. When CBS, for example, introduced the main actors from their new series to the advertising community in May, it went something like this: Kyle Bornheimer — white. Simon Baker — white. Jay Mohr — white. Rufus Sewell — white. Elizabeth Reaser — white. The NAACP has taken notice: It will release a new study later this month titled ''Out of Focus, Out of Sync — Take 4,'' which calls for diversity not only on screen but also behind the scenes, where decisions are made and story lines are hatched. ''1 out of every 3 persons in the United States is a minority,'' reads the report, an advance excerpt of which was provided to EW. ''One could argue that a third of all those working in Hollywood should be a minority. However...their presence is not accurately represented on-air and for the most part, their stories are secondary or non-existent. Behind the camera, the challenges facing minorities have been even greater and traditionally more difficult to overcome.... It is unconscionable and unacceptable that there is no new African American sitcom, or family drama for that matter, currently in the fall line up on any of the major broadcast networks.'' Vicangelo Bulluck, executive director of the NAACP's Hollywood bureau, says plainly, ''The trend definitely seems to be going in the wrong direction.'' The few minority showrunners agree that more work needs to be done, not just in hiring actors of color but in hiring them for the right roles. ''There's a saying that when America gets a cold, African-Americans and other minorities get the flu,'' says Girlfriends creator Mara Brock Akil. ''Television is certainly having a cold right now, and everybody is losing out.'' Grey's Anatomy creator Shonda Rhimes sees progress in her diverse cast and those of other established hits — namely Lost and Heroes . But she still cites room for improvement: ''Do I want to see any more shows where someone has a sassy black friend? No, because I'm nobody's sassy black friend. I just want to see shows in which people get to be people and that look like the world we live in. The world is changing, and television will have to follow.'' True enough: It feels downright regressive to have to point out that minorities can be stars too, at a time when Will Smith continues to dominate box offices, Oprah is the most powerful woman on television, and Barack Obama is running for the ultimate leading role (you know, of the free world). ''We should put them on a show and watch the wackiness ensue,'' jokes Chris exec producer Ali LeRoi. ''He's a movie star! She's a talk-show host! And he's the president! It could be like the new Three's Company.'' There was a time when diversity seemed to come naturally to prime time. The social consciousness of the '70s spawned successful sitcoms like The Jeffersons, Good Times, and Sanford and Son; the '80s brought living-in-harmony comedy Diff'rent Strokes and the ultimate breakthrough TV family on The Cosby Show . But a long fallow period (dominated by Cheers , Seinfeld , and Friends ) followed until 1999, when the networks announced another particularly white fall lineup (The West Wing , Freaks and Geeks , Once and Again ) — and minority groups revolted. Prompted by then-NAACP president Kweisi Mfume's remark that TV was a ''virtual whitewash in programming,'' groups representing African- Americans, Latinos, Asian-Americans, and Native Americans banded together to push for diversity — calling for sweeping boycotts if immediate progress wasn't made. In the end, it was: Minority actors were hastily added to shows (congratulations, Dulé Hill, you now work for President Bartlet!), and the networks agreed to measures meant to foster diverse talent behind the scenes as well — most notably by hiring designated senior executives to monitor the situation. ''They've got VPs of diversity because we forced them onto them,'' says Alex Nogales, president and CEO of the National Hispanic Media Coalition. ''We said, 'We need someone to be the point person for you, Mr. President of Entertainment. And we need that person to report directly to you.''' The result, nearly a decade later: Every major network now has a high-level VP whose entire job description boils down to lobbying fellow executives and producers to keep minorities in the game. ''It will really make our shows more relevant,'' says Mitsy Wilson, who oversees diversity development for Fox and parent company News Corp. Sitting in her Fox-lot office, flanked by a Waiting to Exhale poster and a Policía de Nueva York (NYPD Blue) poster, a head shot of an Asian-American actor on her coffee table, Wilson (herself African-American) explains that she and her second-in- command, Ron Taylor (also African-American), monitor the entire network. They work to promote diversity from the assistant level to the executive ranks, and among those who work either behind the camera or in front of it (the network requires at least one minority writer per show and one minority director per quarter). Wilson and Taylor help match diverse candidates with open positions and casting calls, scour the company's lower ranks for minorities with potential to be promoted, and meet with producers regularly to monitor progress. It's a job that wins them varying receptions, given that they're asking many producers to hire from outside their regular circles. ''You have showrunners who understand that it actually makes business sense,'' Wilson says. ''A lot of it has to do with their frame of reference, which at some times is limited. If it is limited, they're more likely to say, 'I don't want to take that leap of faith.''' 'Til Death executive producer Tim Hobert, for one, says he uses the diversity office's resources to find new writers for his struggling sitcom — and, in fact, didn't mind that during the writers' strike, the network decided to add comic J.B. Smoove as a black foil to Brad Garrett 's bumbling lead character. ''For me, the goal would be to tell interesting stories,'' says Hobert. ''I don't think it's good if you're like, 'Oh, let's just put on a black character so people will be quiet.''' Fox and other networks have also been sponsoring writing workshops, talent showcases, and other outreach programs since the 1999 dustup. And the last decade has yielded some high-profile gains: Rhimes' Grey's Anatomy and Private Practice ; Dennis Haysbert , who played the president on 24 and now anchors network TV's sole African-American-led drama, CBS' The Unit; and Ugly Betty (exec-produced by Salma Hayek ), currently network TV's only series centered on a Latino character. Network execs swear such success stories really are their goal: ''When people tune in to Grey's Anatomy, they see a cast that is what you would see if you walked into a hospital in any major city,'' says ABC president of entertainment Stephen McPherson.