This depiction is driven by the stereotype of the no-nonsense Latina mother. Shows like Superstore work hard to unpick this, with Amy (America Ferreira), as an enterprising and funny single mom. Refreshingly, she isn’t overly sexualised and she is also given room to make mistakes and be bungling. Usually, this is the sole reserve of fictional men. Phil (Ty Burrell) in Modern Family is a lovable idiot because he can ultimately laugh about things and has a child-like connection with his kids. His mistakes are endearing, whereas Claire’s are jarring. The same thing happens with Ruby’s dad (Eric Neil Gutierrez). He is presented as under his wife’s thumb, finding himself sleeping in Ruby’s room when the family goes through money problems and looking comical in his underwear. The recent discourse over calling a man a ‘golden retriever’ encapsulates this perfectly. Being called this implies they’re good-willed and goofy, and gives them an instant innocence that a ‘mom’ character isn’t always allowed. Regardless of your personality, if you’re always having to assume the role of telling people what to do, you will be perceived as annoying. This often falls to mothers, making them more likely to be thought of as dour and unlikeable, meaning fathers get to be the fun ones. A study done by professor of psychology at NYU, Madeline Heilman, found that because of prescriptive bias, a man helping out in the workplace is recognised and appreciated, but if he doesn’t, it isn’t a big deal. But because that quality is expected in women, it’s taken for granted when they do it and thought of as actively rude if they don’t. Gendered expectations affect how fictional mothers are received too. Never Have I Ever follows a similar pattern to the Netflix Original Edge of Seventeen. Devi’s mum (Poorna Jagannathan) is cold and nit-picking and Devi (Maitrayi Ramakrishnan) constantly reminisces on memories of her recently dead father. We only ever see her perspective, which is intentionally rose-tinted (in later seasons the mother-daughter communication does improve) but in the meantime the father figure is idealised and the perception that a mother is a failing one if she doesn’t make her children feel heard is perpetuated. Traditional family structure theory has men doing the instrumental roles, like providing financially, while the woman is expected to fulfil the expressive roles of emotional support and raising children. The residue of this attitude hangs over society, so that even when mothers are working, they are still held to antiquated standards of being a mother. Sex Education has one of the most balanced depictions of characters seen in teen TV, with no character vilified without empathy, but still, the conflict with the mothers was most often based on the child feeling misunderstood, where their disputes with their fathers were over them being completely emotionally or physically absent. The worst thing a mother can do is to be unsympathetic. The worst thing a dad can do is disappear completely. In the hierarchy of human needs, women are expected to achieve a whole lot more to be held up as good parents. Author Lionel Shriver propelled this notion into controversy by implying in her 2003 novel We Need to Talk About Kevin that mothers are directly responsible for how their children develop. There was nuance there, with the mother character bordering on being abusive, but her son also had clear psychopathic tendencies, placing the mother in an unfair position. The Crown does a similar job of victimising Prince Charles in relation to his mother. In seasons 3 and 4, the Queen is cold and brusque with him, making clear that she doesn’t care what he wants for his marriage, and the screenwriters frame her affection for her younger son Andrew as outright favouritism. There is doubtless some truth to this, but the series' sentimentality makes it seem like Charles was ultimately only troublesome to the royal family because his mum didn't love him enough. Perhaps the Queen (fictional or real) isn’t anyone’s idea of a perfect mother, but then again, who is? E.M. Forster at least eventually acknowledged that his own imperfect mother, who brought him up alone, was a strong individual and a force to be reckoned with. It’s time for TV makers to do the same.
- Eve Smith
