The cancellation of Don’t Trust the B in Apartment 23 came as news to few people (although it had its fair share of fans who bemoaned its cancellation). On January 13, a paltry 1.76 million viewers tuned it see the show and by January 22, its network, ABC, announced that it was (mercifully) putting the show out to pasture. To my mind, little was remarkable about Don’t Trust the B except that it featured a gay black character – a rare species in network television fare. Luther, played by actor Ray Ford, was the series’ gay black character, who was the assistant to James Van Der Beek (playing a version of himself).

Don’t Trust the B received little attention. Clearly, not many viewers tuned in to watch the series (thus resulting in its cancellation). And few stories were written about the series after its initial televisual introduction with the majority of recent stories revolving around Luther’s promotion to series regular for the series’ second (and final) season. The series has been met with virtual silence from the Gay and Lesbian Alliance Against Defamation (GLAAD), the self-appointed organization that polices gay representation. The series failed to garner a nomination for the organization’s GLAAD Media Awards, whose aim is to celebrate “images that moved [lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender people] closer to equality.” So, what was wrong with Don’t Trust the B? Part of what was “wrong” with the show is that Luther was not a “respectable” homosexual subject. Sure, he was professional (he was Van Der Beek’s assistant), but not only was he single (which seems to increasingly be a no-no in gay televisual representation), but he also embodied far more hegemonically (and problematically) feminine traits. With series like Modern Family, The New Normal, and the now-cancelled Partners, the more “masculine” characters temper the more “feminine” characters. But Luther is the only gay in the village and as such, his feyness is untethered to “respectable” straight-acting homosexuality. He typically prances and preens his way through scenes and provides some of the series’ comic relief – a break from the ways gay characters have been imagined in recent years. In some ways, he also embodies the lecherous homosexual subject. He secretly (and sometimes not so secretly) lusts after Van Der Beek and in his “diary” on ABC.com, Luther celebrates the success of a billboard featuring Van Der Beek and suggests that now the world gets to “see what [he] see[s]… the tight package of a beautiful creature… James Van Der Beek.”

For his embodiment of so-called “negative” stereotypes, one would think that I would be suggesting that we keep Luther safely locked away in television’s closet, never to be seen or heard from again. Quite the opposite, I believe Luther is far more important representationally than he has been (and likely will be) given credit. Long after the cultural memory/DVD archive has forgotten that there was even a show on the air called Don’t Trust the B, we should remember Luther.

Luther is/was an important contribution to the network television canon of gay black characters for three reasons: first, he creates visibility for a population largely ignored on television (although, black gay men were likely not watching the show en masse). As a run through the canon of gay and lesbian characters on television demonstrates, very few of those characters are of color. The list of usual suspects include Jodie Dallas on Soap, Ellen Morgan on Ellen, Will Truman and Jack McFarland on Will & Grace and Cameron and Mitchell on Modern Family, thus reinforcing Richard Dyer’s assertion in his book White that “to be gay… is to be white.” Second, while I will not suggest that network television will ever educate viewers about gay culture, there was always something campy about Luther and his writer’s willingness to let him trend toward embodying more “feminine” characteristics and being proud of his feyness. Third, Luther was actually portrayed by an out black gay man, which alone is cause for celebration. Excepting the men of Noah’s Arc, those black actors who have portrayed gay characters on television have been heterosexual. I am not suggesting that these actors did a bad job at “playing” gay, rather I am suggesting that in Hollywood, with few exceptions, out gay actors are often understood as incapable of convincingly playing heterosexual characters, while concomitantly, because of their personal lives, are “too gay” to actually play gay characters, and thus unable to work in Hollywood.

So as we bid farewell to Don’t Trust the B, we also bid farewell to a part of gay black visibility on network television. Luther was a character written in a mold that has (problematically) been deemed passé and disrespectful to the middle class, married/coupled, suburban model of gay televisibility. And for that, we should be saddened.

In GLAAD’s recent report they mention that the total number of LGBT characters on television actually decreased this year. In part this was a result of the cancellation of the L-Word, the majority of whose character’s were LGBT. However, I believe that this year we actually saw an increase in the visibility of LGBT characters on TV. Because, some new shows have LGBT characters and other have recently added them,  a relatively large number of prime-time network television programs, both dramas and comedies, have gay and lesbian characters. Nearly every network has at least one clearly gay or lesbian central character on one of their shows. On Sunday you can see LGBT characters on Desperate Housweives and Brothers and Sisters on ABC, Monday there is House on Fox, Tuesday has Modern Family on ABC, Wednesday there is Glee on Fox, Thursday Grey’s Anatomy on ABC. Friday ABC has Ugly Betty, and Saturday there is Mercy on NBC. (This is not an exhaustive list) CBS alone seems to have ignored the trend. These representations are not all perfect, far from it, but looking back only a short decade ago when Will and Grace was considered unusual, being able to find an LGBT character on network TV every night is a pretty amazing thing.

Network prime-time has not until recently been the location of most LGBT visibility on television. In the past networks confined  LGBT characters to daytime soaps. HBO and Showtime have longed featured LGBT characters on their shows and have provided many of the characters that made up the numbers that  were counted in  drama and comedies on television. LOGO on cable has certainly also punched up these numbers. But these shows weren’t on network prime-time televison. I was a fan of Showtime’s LGBT heavy shows, Queer As Folk and The L-Word, but if you were uninterested or even hostile to LGBT issues you would be unlikely to tune in. In contrast, you may not be interested in LGBT issues but if you are a long term fan of Grey’s Anatomy  you would likely continue watching the show now that a lesbian relationship is among the major story lines. Many of the shows with LGBT characters and themes in the late 90s and early 2000s took place in primarily LGBT worlds and contexts, interaction with the “straight” world often took the form of narratives of conflict. Integrated shows, like those we now have on network prime-time television, play a different role. They may show conflict, but they also show cooperation. LGBT characters are part of workplace communities, families, and friendship groups with both LGBT and straight members. This integration lets these show tell different stories and let them tell more familiar stories differently. Callie can be horrified and hurt at her father’s hostility to her homosexuality and Arizona can advocate patience on Grey’s Anatomy in part because they are addressing a more integrated (and possibly ambivalent) audience and because they have a more integrated cast of characters; filled with many heterosexual characters who are supportive of their relationship. I certainly don’t suggest that these kinds of shows should replace programs that represent LGBT communities and worlds more extensively, as the programming on LOGO and the Showtime do. But I think the long-term goal for LGBT representation on television should include both kinds of show. Representations are still too problematic and too few, they are not, and most likely never will, be perfect. But as Kath Weston has observed in her work a group cannot fully be accepted until they are seen as “fully social persons” who are part of families and communities. Integrated shows may be a step towards this. Paired with increased visibility I would like to hope that this season does not represent a loss at all but a different kind of gain. Am I just a wide eyed optimist? What do others think?