More Than A Matriarch: Ophelia Harkness as a New Archetype for Black Women on Screen

If we each take a moment to recall the most memorable representations of Black women, specifically aging or aged Black women in mainstream US media, what films, television shows, or series come to mind? Those that I recall are a bittersweet treat, a mix of delight as well as concern. This does not surprise me, and yet, even with this intellectual understanding, when I first encountered Donald Bogle’s 1973 book Toms, Coons, Mulattoes, Mammies, & Bucks which details persistent stereotypes of Black characters in American film and television, I was perturbed at the thought that concerns about these often disparaging images could outweigh the overall accomplishments of Black female actors. As the novelist Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie warned in her now-famous TED Talk, “The single story creates stereotypes, and the problem with stereotypes is not that they are untrue, but that they are incomplete. They make one story become the only story.”¹

Bogle’s study began where most discussions about Black stereotypes begin: the 1915 film The Birth of a Nation. With this film, Bogle writes, “all the major black screen types had been introduced.”² He drew attention to the fact that US filmmakers in the early 1900s favored light-skinned Black women, known as the tragic mulatto, as actors and characters. Bogle speculated that it was “because of her white blood, no doubt.”³ Beyond the tragic mulatto, the most popular stereotypical representation, according to box office accounts, was the mammy, who was portrayed as a dominated but not defeated caretaker of white families. She was known by her size, cantankerous nature, and fierce independence, regardless of her circumstances. Her gentler counterpart was Aunt Jemima who, in Bogle’s words, was “sweet, jolly, good-tempered, and a bit more polite.”⁴ Although Bogle and others since have discussed these representations in detail, focusing on gender, size, and temperament, what is rarely discussed is that these women were also defined by their age.

Suffice it to say that when I read this accounting as a younger Black female spectator, writer, and teacher grappling with conflicting truths, I found the picture Bogle drew was not always lining up with my lived experiences, so I set out to assess my own views on character types in the media focusing solely on Black women. I interrogated my personal background alongside these representations and translated my findings into four different character types: matriarchs, rebels, adventurers, and survivors. It was not until much later on in my life and career that I understood that these were not separate and distinct types at all but actually parts of a whole no matter how the character was typed in the narrative. As with my life experiences, each one possessed and incorporated the others. As I came to experience these characters as more vivid, tangible, realistic, and intricate, I found opportunities to re-envision representations of Black women, particularly aging or aged Black women, on screen. And as I moved in this direction in my research and life, these characters became more legible, recognizable, and familiar.

Over the years, and especially in the course of writing this essay, I have asked myself a set of guiding questions: What single stories, to borrow from Adichie, are we encouraged to hold onto regarding aging or aged Black women in the media? What are our expectations, and when are they met, or even exceeded? This undertaking required me to look at actresses in leading as well as supporting roles to complete the tapestry of representations of Black womanhood. Finally, I felt compelled to ask, is it possible that for years we have been wanting more and, in some cases, experiencing it without taking stock? What have I overlooked in deploying only a learned critical gaze, neglecting my informal education and my unique personal lens? This last question required me to summon personal courage as well as professional skill.  What was I looking for? The simple answer is: The truth, my truth. Or at least some version of it that is plausible in the context of the narratives in front of me. I had to hold onto my own understanding of the intricate ways we as Black women occupy certain spaces, how we often play a role with adherence to the rules and still manage to weave in our authenticity and splashes of resistance. And who is to say what that resistance looks like? It might be different for each of us. All the same, in studying these representations, I was looking for resistance I recognized. I was looking for my extended family. I used all the tools at my disposal, my scholarly training in film analysis, my knowledge of how media can both replicate and challenge accepted norms, and my visceral self as a critical spectator and participant in the work. All of this is what led me to Ophelia Harkness.

Ophelia Harkness, played by Cicely Tyson, is a supporting character in Shonda Rhimes’s highly successful TV series How to Get Away With Murder (HTGAWM), broadcast from 2014-2020. Harkness is mother to the main character Annalise Keating, played by Viola Davis, a professor and criminal defense attorney. In the course of the series, Harkness is diagnosed with dementia yet never loses her verve and authority. When the show premiered on primetime TV in 2014, many of us were already blessed with dynamic aging Black females in our lives and we were now seeing more than occasional representations in films and television. Better still, they were now being configured as more than matriarchs. These women were notstrangers to me. In writing this essay, I recalled my own mother, who passed away in 2014, the same year the show began, and my Great Aunt Dorothy, who danced frequently without music because she always had a song in her heart. The women many of us knew in real life we now saw in the media. They were leaders of their families, with or without men by their side, contributing members of society, and intellectually, spiritually, and physically active. By 2014, through shows like How to Get Away With Murder and others, aging Black female characters had finally gotten a well-earned makeover onscreen and, unlike their stereotypical predecessors, these women had full, visible, active, internal and external lives, as well as their own families and loved ones to care for. Ophelia Harkness is a prime example.

Those who personified this caliber of matriarch in the years leading up to HTGAWM gave me a strong framework to appreciate Ophelia. There were many women across a wide range of films, those like Mary Alice as Suzi in Charles Burnett’s To Sleep with Anger (1990), Cora Lee Day as Nana Peazant in Julie Dash’s Daughters of the Dust (1991), Ruby Dee as Mother Sister in Do The Right Thing (1989), and Lucinda Purify in Jungle Fever (1991), the latter two Spike Lee films. Maya Angelou also appeared in films, including John Singleton’s Poetic Justice (1993) and Tyler Perry’s Madea’s Family Reunion (2006), where Cicely Tyson also appeared as Aunt Myrtle. Phylicia Rashad also has a long and distinguished career spanning five decades and has appeared more recently on the series Empire (2015-2020) as well as 13 Reasons Why (2020) and The Good Fight (2022).

Ophelia Harkness is a multi-dimensional character in part because of the depth of her character and in part because of the skill and experience Cicely Tyson brought to her role. Tyson was born in 1924 and grew up in a Caribbean household in Harlem with a particular lineage, one with a mix of post-colonial and post-slavery nuances. She began her career in the late 50s, when she was in her thirties. She was employed consistently in film and television, working and living through turbulent times in the US until she passed away in 2021 at the age of ninety-six. Her career highlights include singular appearances on popular television shows of the sixties and seventies, including The Courtship of Eddie’s Father, Mission: Impossible, Gunsmoke, Emergency!, and the Roots mini-series, to name a few. In 1974, she embodied Jane Pittman in The Autobiography of Miss Jane Pittman, a role that required her to perform a character over a nearly 110-year life. In 1981, she played Marva Collins in The Marva Collins Story, a television movie about the groundbreaking educator from Chicago. She played Mrs. Browne in two episodes of The Women of Brewster Place in 1989 and in 1991 appeared in Fried Green Tomatoes; The Rosa Parks Story in 2002; Law & Order: Special Victims Unit and The Help in 2011; Alex Cross in 2012; House of Cards in 2013; The Trip to Bountiful and Madam Secretary in 2014; and the list goes on. Tyson’s IMDB page lists ninety-four entries for her career as an actress, with many television series listing her for multiple episodes. Ashley S. Young writes, “Before ever meeting Cicely Tyson, Viola Davis would shout her out in interviews to give Tyson credit for helping her see an alternative depiction of beauty and Black womanhood on-screen.”⁵ Her influence on Black actors, Black representation, and the broader TV culture has been palpable.

From 2015 to 2020, we were blessed with Tyson’s appearance in ten episodes of How to Get Away with Murder. The series had a broad network of distributors, including Disney-ABC and Netflix in the US, as well as distributors in Canada and throughout the world, including Turkey, Japan, Belgium, Greece, and Singapore. This, to my mind, meant a show featuring multi-dimensional Black characters was representing America in some meaningful way. As an aging Black woman myself, I understood what Tyson’s life, career, and accumulated knowledge could mean to countless other Pan-African women and men. In an interview with Gayle King for CBS Mornings, Tyson explained how she selected her roles: “Whenever I’m offered a script, what I’m interested in when I get it is why me? Who was that character, and why did they want me to play it? And when I get to the point where I feel like her skin has fitted my arm or my mind, then I know there is something about her.”⁶ I feel this when I watch her. I experience the symphonic tones emanating from both the character and the person who embodies her. In other words, Ophelia Harkness and Cicely Tyson are inextricably bound. Further, Tyson’s response to King stirred my consciousness about representations of Black womanhood, in this case spotlighting aging Black women in life and on screen.

As I watched and later returned to HTGAWM in my research, I became particularly focused on how, through Tyson-as-Harkness, the show represents Black women as elders and shepherds of Black communities, and how it uniquely renders the complexity of mother-daughter relationships. Ophelia Harkness is introduced into the world of HTGAWM during season 1, episode 12, when her daughter, criminal defense lawyer and professor Annalise Keating, calls her crying. “Mama? I need you,” Keating pleads into the phone.⁷ Ophelia doesn’t appear on screen until the following episode, “Mama’s Here Now.” Then, she enters her daughter’s home, where her daughter also keeps her office, met by Annalise’s coworkers. The coworkers have no idea who Ophelia is, thinking she is just an elderly woman who wandered in off the street. Ophelia delivers a few words of reprimand to the coworkers for leaving the house door unlocked. Then, realizing they don’t recognize her, she says, “Don’t you know a V.I.P when you see one?”⁸ Although she demands respect, the angle of the three-shot frames Ophelia in the center but makes her appear smaller than the other characters. Because she is pictured from a high angle lens, what the shot conveys is a more complex and possibly contested authority.

After another beat, Ophelia says, “So show a little respect for her mama.”⁸ She proceeds upstairs where she finds her daughter disheveled in bed. She busies herself with cleaning up, urging her daughter to get up, scolding her, telling her that she should have known that her husband was no good and neither was the boyfriend who came before him. If she’d only listened to her mother, Ophelia tells her. Whereas the opening scene shows Ophelia in a diminished or at least contested relation to the others, in this scene the camera frames her from a low angle so that her figure takes up the screen. The shot conveys her full authority over the space.

And indeed, she administers critical parental authority in the form of tough love. However, when her daughter does not respond, the toughness subsides, Ophelia moves beside the bed, takes hold of her child, kisses her, and says, “Mama’s here now and everything gonna be all right.”⁸ Soon, they begin to talk. They talk about the issues at hand for Annalise and, in the course of the conversation, details come up about a shared past: A fire that left them with nothing. We learn about Annalise’s complicated past and, through Ophelia’s brief monologue, we experience Annalise’s character, which by now has been developed over thirteen episodes, become something new. The shift is sharpened when Ophelia laughs, calling her daughter by her given name, Anna Mae. Not a beat later, Ophelia adds, “You get rich, you give yourself a rich name, Annalise.”⁸ The camera’s changing angles mirror Ophelia’s shapeshifting as she morphs from one persona to the next. This relationship alters the world of HTGAWM, imposing a longer view and extends far beyond the visible frame.

No surprise that the relationship between mother and daughter is multifaceted. It is loving and rife with fierce tensions informed by the mother-daughter bond as well as the intensity of Ophelia’s character. When mother and daughter return downstairs and Annalise formally introduces Ophelia to the students, they stand in respect. When Annalise leaves the room, Ophelia orders the students to clean up her daughter’s place. They respond in unison, “Yes, ma’am.”⁸ This scene lets us know that Ophelia’s authority, established upstairs, endures. A few scenes later, we see Ophelia in the kitchen preparing food. After a beat, Annalise appears in the room with a bottle of alcohol cradled in one arm and a glass in her other hand. She puts these on the table, then goes to the stove where she reaches for the pot to help herself to her mother’s cooking. Ophelia slaps her daughter’s hand. Moments later, there is a burst of emotion. Annalise confesses to her mother that she should be at work, an important case has gone to trial, but she’s in no state to be working. The case, she tells her mother, is one in which a woman has been charged with raping a man. Ophelia dismisses the possibility out of hand, insisting that women are not capable of that kind of violence. “Other things, yes, but rape, no. Men were put on this planet to take things,” she says. “Women were meant to give love, to nurture, to protect, to care for. That’s women,” she adds. The two have a back and forth, disagreeing on the surface topic. Then, suddenly, Annalise fires at her mother, “Did you know?” Ophelia takes a moment. Then she says slowly, “Uncle Clyde is dead.” Annalise slams her hands on the table. She shouts, “Did you know what he did to me?”⁸ Annalise accuses her mother of willfully ignoring her uncle’s molestation and the great pain it caused her throughout her life. She tells her mother to leave. But when Ophelia throws up her hands and agrees to go, Annalise breaks down and cries. Once again, Ophelia moves in to comfort her daughter. A few scenes later, Ophelia and Annalise have returned to Annalise’s bedroom. Ophelia is sitting on the edge of the bed. Annalise is on the floor resting against her mother’s knees while her mother combs her hair. Ophelia speaks softly. What she says reveals her side of the story of her daughter’s sexual assault and her uncle’s death in the fire that destroyed their home. When Ophelia finishes talking, Annalise reaches up, takes her mother’s hand and wraps her mother’s arm around her body. The camera shifts between the two. We feel Annalise taking in a very different version of her mother. For the first time in the episode, we see her accepting her mother’s caring and the fierce mode of protection she deployed when Annalise was a child. Her mother was a rebel, not a passive bystander to her daughter’s victimization. The camera stays close on the two women in a tight embrace. This shot holds the dramatic revelation that opens the door for healing and reconciliation.

Ophelia does not appear again until the end of the second season. She returns at the end of season 2, episode 14, “There’s My Baby,” and episode 15, “Anna Mae.” In episode 14, Annalise goes to her mother’s home in Memphis. There, as it goes when one goes home, Annalise has to listen to her mother’s doting praise. Her mother has thrown her a party to celebrate the successful daughter’s return to a circle of family and friends. At the party, an unwelcomed guest arrives: Annalise’s father. Annalise interrogates her mother about his presence. What does it mean about her mother’s love life? He left the family before, breaking all trust. What is the nature of his return? This episode also introduces questions and concerns about Ophelia’s possible dementia. At this point, we easily associate the concerns with Ophelia’s age, although it is not yet explicitly stated as the cause. As the scene progresses, Annalise takes issue with her mother seeing her father again. Her sister triangulates further, saying that she is happy for their mother to have company and not be home alone. Ophelia affirms her need for intimacy. “You can call it courtship, dating, or anything you want,” she says to Annalise.⁹

In this episode, too, we experience another monumental revelation about Annalise’s past. She lost a child. Viewers of the show have known this for a while. The shock comes to Ophelia, the seemingly all-knowing mother who never knew. On the evening of the revelation, Ophelia beckons her daughter outside under cover of night and encourages her to have a ceremony. “Write a letter to your baby to take to his homegoing,” she says.⁸ In a tearful and cathartic scene, Ophelia attends to her child’s unhealed wounds and nurtures her broken spirit, guiding her to bury the letter and with it her long-held grief. We understand two important things from this scene. One, dementia has not defined Ophelia Harkness or her life’s work. Two, how this survivor practices caring. The next day, urged by Ophelia, Annalise’s father comes to apologize to Annalise. The exchange brings no clear resolution between them. When Annalise is getting ready to leave, her mother calls after her, “You wait too long to come back, there could be no mama here to nurse you back to health.” Annalise says, “Subtle, Mama.”⁸ Still, they embrace. The camera frames the two of them. Annalise’s sister is seen standing in the background. The shot allows us to witness not just the women in this family but also the complexities and tensions within their still loving relationships.

The next time we see Ophelia is in season 3, episode 12, “Go Cry Somewhere Else,” when she is visiting Annalise in jail.  In previous episodes, Annalise has been accused and charged for the murder of Wes Gibbons, a central character and one of her students. Now she awaits trial. Ophelia shows up in the courtroom with Annalise’s father. Tearful and distraught, Annalise begs them to go home. Her mother does what we expect. She tries to secure additional legal help for her daughter and attempts to bring her food, which the guards prohibit. When she talks to Annalise, Annalise realizes her mother’s mental state is fragile. Her father confesses, “The doctor said it’s just a bit of dementia.”¹⁰ This is the first mention of the disease. A few scenes later, they visit Annalise again. While her parents try to ask about her, Annalise redirects the conversation to her mother. Her father tries to reassure her. He says he will stay by her side. Annalise is not consoled. She asks if he will run off again. A few scenes later, the murder trial has ended, Annalise has been acquitted, and she is released from jail. Her parents come to pick her up and bring her home. At dinner that evening, Ophelia has an episode. What was previously suggested is now in the open, leaving no doubt that Ophelia’s dementia is progressing. This moment reflects the show’s careful depiction of the realistic elements of the disease and its effect on family members, without losing the specificity of Ophelia’s story.

This is where I step back and let myself imagine the show’s true intentions with an aging Black female character.  I imagine how the writer, Rhimes, took to her actor, Tyson, and the way Tyson took to Ophelia while studying and performing her character. I imagine it suited them both that such care had been taken with the details of an aging character in a supporting role. I imagine the tacit agreement between collaborators to deliver a well-orchestrated, well-balanced set of personas that enable audiences to partake in all of the textures of aging Black womanhood.

In season 4, episode 1, “I’m Going Away,” Annalise goes home again. There she notices a bell on the front door. She asks her sister about it. Her sister says, “That’s his idea of a solution.” It’s their father’s make-shift alarm in case Ophelia tries to leave. That night, the entire family gathers at the dinner table and, although her mother appears with the same vim, vigor, honesty, and humor as always, Annalise raises her concerns. She begins talking about looking into a memory care center. Her father interrupts her, saying, “Your mother and I are getting along real good here.” Ophelia interjects. With brutal honesty and clarity, she invokes Annalise’s troubled past. “And you’re gonna tell me how to live?” she says. She tells Annalise that if sending her to a care home is her idea of love, she doesn’t need it. She leaves the table, saying, “Don’t come back here anymore.”¹¹ Things remain tense for the rest of the evening.

Later, in the middle of the night, Ophelia wakes Annalise in the midst of a dementia episode, revealing the extent of the disease’s progression and the future possibilities for her health. In this scene, we have been granted access to this family’s most intimate moments, given a glimpse into their experience of dealing with a loved one aging with dementia. We witness the moment when an adult child realizes the need to shift away from her role as the child to be the caretaker. The raw vulnerabilities of the scene are respectfully observed. While mother and daughter are in the bathroom, the camera stays outside. We can see Annalise helping her mother out of the shower, but she blocks a direct view of her mother with her own body. Then the camera moves into the small bathroom, staying close while respecting Ophelia’s privacy. The scene has both intimacy and warmth. It is shot in soft lighting and accompanied by a soothing song mother and daughter sing together as Annalise moisturizes her mother’s body and hands. Ophelia says, “See? I haven’t lost my whole mind. Not yet.” Then, in a softer, quieter voice, she agrees to go look at the “nursery home.”⁸

Later in the same episode, in a moment that demonstrates Ophelia’s grit and the show’s sure cultural footing, the family tours the care home. The tour guide stops to proudly show photos of white movie stars, saying, “Our residents like reminders of the good old days.” To this, Ophelia quips, “Whose good old days?” The tour continues. Her family remains in the common area fighting over financing and how to plan for Ophelia’s future. Ophelia returns in the midst of their disagreement. She scolds them for behaving this way “in people’s homes.” And yet, even while dealing with a progressive disease, she never cedes her authority or place in the family. And on an important level, she maintains possession of the core facets of her character. She walks off, saying, “Humiliating me in public. For shame.”⁸

Later in the episode, a scene opens with a medium two-shot of mother and daughter, then moves to a close-up of the two on the couch. Ophelia admits, “My mind’s going.” Then she says, “I promise: I will hold on to me for as long as I can, and what I want is for you to hold on to you, too.”  She concedes to Annalise that the decision to place her in the home is up to the family, what each of them wants. And, ever the mother, the teacher, the mentor, the guide, the realist, she declares, “There is nothing you can do to stop it from happening.” After a moment, she adds, “The best thing for us to do is prepare ourselves so it won’t be a surprise.”⁸ I am still taken by this moment. The words, the feelings, a mother’s ability to care so deeply and to be her boldest self while enduring a changed mind and an uncertain future, these read to me as life more than lines in a script. They feel like an invitation into the most intimate spaces of real life matriarchs, rebels, adventurers, and survivors.

After these honest, difficult moments, we anticipate Ophelia’s next appearance with great concern. But in season 4, episode 13, “Lahey v. Commonwealth of Pennsylvania,” Ophelia enters Annalise’s hotel suite near the courthouse dressed to the nines, looking smart and sounding like a vivacious movie star. She is charming, ever the social butterfly, concerned about her daughter, and once again comes bearing food. We see a perfect mix of the many sides of Ophelia. At lunch, she shares her cultural indictments: Why does she only see women everywhere? “It’s because cops keep sending the men off to jail.” What’s wrong with this country? “This country’s been broken for damn near my whole life.” Then she addresses her daughter: “I’m just grateful to see somebody who can possibly fix it.”⁸ Although on the surface, Ophelia is talking about the country’s racism and its entanglements with the criminal legal system, I have to suspect that the writer, Rhimes, means this line on multiple registers. Not only does Ophelia hope for a younger generation to fix the problem, but perhaps Rhimes hopes the show will help shift images of Black women in the media, and that subsequent generations will continue that work.

Later, Annalise and her colleague, two powerful Black women lawyers, march towards the US Supreme Court. Ophelia meets them there to witness her daughter’s big case, but unfortunately, she is in the midst of an episode. Upset, she approaches Annalise and the colleague. She spills food on the colleague’s suit. She cannot be calmed. The colleague is gracious and takes Ophelia aside to assist her in cleaning up. While Annalise’s colleague tends to Ophelia, she benefits from Ophelia’s sage advice and wisdom. “Fixin’, fixin’, fixin’. Sometimes that doesn’t leave you any time for yourself,” Ophelia says, demonstrating her capacity to love and care for anyone who enters her orbit, no matter her state. Ophelia goes on to say, pausing every few words, “Sometimes, I think this whole country would just fall apart… if we weren’t around to… clean up all the mess.”⁸ One senses something deeply real and profound in this intergenerational moment.

Ophelia returns to the courtroom in time to witness Annalise’s opening argument. “Racism is built into the DNA of America,” Annalise begins. She goes on to outline the persistence anti-Black racism throughout the history of this country as background for the defense of her client. Ophelia is there to be a proud witness to her daughter’s moment, as well as the historical truths of Annalise’s words. “The promise of civil rights has never been fulfilled,” Annalise says.⁸ At the conclusion of the scene, just as Annalise’s words echo in the courtroom, the camera moves from a close-up of Annalise to a low-angle wide shot of the grand edifice of the court building. The camera pans down to the steps where Annalise is being interviewed by reporters. She appears small against the structure behind her, evoking the enormity of the task at hand. In this moment, viewers and characters are gathered across generations to celebrate victories while realizing that the battle continues.

In season 5, episode 13, “Where Are Your Parents,” Ophelia visits her daughter for Christmas, this time alone. “My baby is living her best life. I’m so proud of you,” she says when she takes in her daughter’s new home. Annalise is clear that she wants her mother to herself and has plans to weave her into her new life. At a holiday dinner with friends and co-workers, Ophelia tells a story from her daughter’s childhood, heaping praise on her child’s good heart, glowing throughout the telling while all eyes are on her. Ophelia remains sharp and aware throughout the episode. In a quiet moment with Annalise, she tells her child, “I’m happy because I make myself happy, and I make myself happy by loving him.” She is referring, of course, to Annalise’s father. She makes clear throughout that she desperately wants her daughter to love and be loved. The scene ends with mother and daughter embracing. Mama says, “We’re all right,” and we believe her.¹² I recall these words and they parent me, too, mother me, educate me, and bathe me in the light of the eternal soul in this aged body.

By the following season, Ophelia’s illness has progressed significantly. We see her again in season 6, episode 9, “Are You the Mole?” and season 6, episode 11, “The Reckoning.” Despite the illness, she remains rooted in the series, remaining solidly in her daughter’s life, caring for her child, giving advice, and having the clarity to give tough love when needed. She retains her sense of humor and unique ways of advocating for her child, while she continues to reveal parts of her own life. One such moment occurs while the two are in bed, lying side by side, having a conversation about Annalise’s sexuality. With each visit, the talks become deeper and more intimate than the ones before. Meanwhile her decline continues, depicted with the same honesty. Amidst the difficulty, Ophelia has moments of clarity, including one in which she interprets Annalise’s dreams. “You’re trying to be the parent you felt you did not have,” she says.¹³ In season 6, episode 15, “Stay,” the series comes to an end. Ophelia and Annalise’s sister go to court to see Annalise “win the case,” as Ophelia says.¹⁴ And indeed she does win. Perhaps it is Ophelia’s presence that manages to give Annalise the push she needs to overcome any doubts she might have been harboring.

The series leaves us with a lesson about aging: We blossom at many stages and all ages until the end. Blooms take on a different nature and different hues over time. How to Get Away With Murder presents many, many storylines. There are countless threads and through lines, and many characters, and yet the one I walked away with and hold on to dearly is the story of a mother. Having lost my own mother in 2014, the show brings back memories of my own family. The experience of watching, remembering, and connecting the stories to my own life solidifies my own existence and hope for my future. Over time, I felt I’d formed a deep connection to the character Ophelia Harkness and the actress Cicely Tyson and that this was, in some way, a continuation of my relationship with my mother. During the six years when the show ran, I could participate in, witness, and remember the Black womanhood I knew and still needed in my life.

Works Cited

Ajayi, Abby, Morenike Balogun, and Peter Nowalk, writers. How to Get Away with Murder. Season 4, episode 1, “I’m Going Away.” Directed by Jet Wilkinson, featuring Viola Davis and Cicely Tyson. Aired September 28, 2017. ABC.

Adichie, Chimamanda Ngozi. “The Danger of a Single Story,” 2009, TED Talk, 18:33, https://www.ted.com/talks/chimamanda_ngozi_adichie_the_danger_of_a_single_story/c.

Balogun, Morenike, Peter Nowalk, and Sarah L. Thompson, writers. How to Get Away with Murder. Season 4, episode 13, “Lahey v. Commonwealth of Pennsylvania.” Directed by Zetna Fuentes, featuring Viola Davis and Cicely Tyson. Aired March 1, 2018. ABC. 

Bogle, Donald. Toms, Coons, Mulattoes, Mammies, & Bucks. New York: Continuum, 1991.

Closson, Maisha, Peter Nowalk, and Daniel Robinson, writers. How to Get Away with Murder. Season 6, episode 9, “Are You the Mole?.” Directed by Stephen Cragg, featuring Viola Davis and Cicely Tyson. Aired November 21 2019. ABC. 

Craig-Galván, Inda, Peter Nowalk, and Daniel Robinson, writers. How to Get Away with Murder. Season 3, episode 12, “The Reckoning.” Directed by DeMane Davis, featuring Viola Davis and Cicely Tyson. Aired April 9, 2020. ABC. 

Cruz, Matthew, Peter Nowalk, and Daniel Robinson, writers. How to Get Away with Murder. Season 6, episode 15, “Stay.” Directed by Stephen Cragg, featuring Viola Davis and Cicely Tyson. Aired May 14, 2020. ABC. 

Fuentes, Zetna, dir. 2018. How to Get Away with Murder. Season 4, episode 13, “Lahey v. Commonwealth of Pennsylvania.” Netflix. Screenshot.

Goldsmith, Maya, Peter Nowalk, and Daniel Robinson, writers. How to Get Away with Murder. Season 5, episode 13, “Where Are Your Parents?.” Directed by DeMane Davis, featuring Viola Davis and Cicely Tyson. Aired February 14, 2019. ABC. 

Harrison, Erika, J.C. Lee and Peter Nowalk, writers. How to Get Away with Murder. Season 2, episode 14, “There’s My Baby.” Directed by Stephen Williams, featuring Viola Davis and Cicely Tyson. Aired March 10, 2016. ABC. 

Harrison, Erika and Peter Nowalk, writers. How to Get Away with Murder. Season 2, episode 14, “Anna Mae.” Directed by Bill D’Elia, featuring Viola Davis and Cicely Tyson. Aired March 17, 2016. ABC. 

Harrison, Erika, Peter Nowalk, and Daniel Robinson, writers. How to Get Away with Murder. Season 3, episode 12, “Go Cry Somewhere Else.” Directed by Cherie Nowlan, featuring Viola Davis and Cicely Tyson. Aired February 9, 2017. ABC. 

Harrison, Erika, Warren Hsu Leonard and Peter Nowalk, writers. How to Get Away with Murder. Season 1, episode 12, “She’s a Murderer.” Directed by Bill D’Elia, featuring Viola Davis and Cicely Tyson. Aired February 12, 2015. ABC. 

“Hollywood Legend Cicely Tyson Recounts Life, Career in New Memoir.” New York: CBS Morning, Jan 26, 2021. YouTube video, 9:30 min. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f6US9geaSmA

Listo, Michael, dir. 2015. How to Get Away with Murder. Season 1, episode 13, “Mama’s Here Now.” Netflix. Screenshot.

Novak, Peter and Shonda Rhimes. How to Get Away With Murder. New York: ABC, 2014-2020.

Wilkinson, Jet, dir. 2017. How to Get Away with Murder. Season 4, episode 1, “I’m Going Away.” Netflix. Screenshot.

Young, Ashley S. “‘There Would Be No Kerry Washington without Diahann Carroll:’ Shout-Out Culture, Sisterhood, and the Discourse of Black Womanhood.” The Velvet Light Trap 89 (Spring 2022): 5-17. muse.jhu.edu/article/849065.

1. Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, “The Danger of a Single Story,” 2009, TED Talk, 18:33, https://www.ted.com/talks/chimamanda_ngozi_adichie_the_danger_of_a_single_story/c. [↩]
2. Donald Bogle, Toms, Coons, Mulattoes, Mammies, & Bucks (New York: Continuum, 1991), 17. [↩]
3. Ibid., 9. [↩]
4. Ibid., 9. [↩]
5. Ashley S. Young, “‘There Would Be No Kerry Washington without Diahann Carroll:’ Shout-Out Culture, Sisterhood, and the Discourse of Black Womanhood,” The Velvet Light Trap 89 (Spring 2022): 5-17, muse.jhu.edu/article/849065, 7. [↩]
6. Hollywood Legend Cicely Tyson Recounts Life, Career in New Memoir. (Jan 26, 2021) Youtube video, 9:30 min, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f6US9geaSmA. [↩]
7. How to Get Away with Murder, “She’s a Murderer.” Aired February 12, 2015, on ABC. [↩]
8. Ibid. [↩] [↩] [↩] [↩] [↩] [↩] [↩] [↩] [↩] [↩] [↩] [↩] [↩] [↩]
9. How to Get Away with Murder, “That’s My Baby.” Aired March 10, 2016, on ABC. [↩]
10. How to Get Away with Murder, “Go Cry Somewhere Else.” Aired February 9, 2017, on ABC. [↩]
11. How to Get Away with Murder, “I’m Going Away.” September 28, 2017, on ABC. [↩]
12. How to Get Away with Murder, “Where Are Your Parents?” Aired February 14, 2019, on ABC. [↩]
13. How to Get Away with Murder, “Are You the Mole,” and “The Reckoning.” Aired November 21, 2019 and April 9, 2020, on ABC. [↩]
14. How to Get Away with Murder, “Stay.” Aired May 14, 2020, on ABC. [↩]