I know that for many people, the mere image of Flavor Flav at the top of this post caused noses to be turned up, eyes to roll, and mouths to snicker at what will go down in history as, quite possibly, the single greatest example of American absurdity in television history. Particularly, for so called progressive people of color, Flavor of Love has inspired a most venomous sort of hate - the kind that, in the past, was reserved for your Clarence Thomas’, and your Marion Barrys. But in hating the man, and his show, are we overlooking some really hard-to-deal-with truths about the state of our race?

What are the things we despise most about The Flavor of Love?

1. The Man-Sharing - dozens of women (counting each of the seasons) competing for the affections of one, by most accounts, unimpressive individual.

2. The Misogyny - he names the girls - do I need to say more? Flavor Flav gives you a name and that’s your name - not just for the show… but like… forever. Hoopz is still Hoopz, Deelisheess is still Deelisheess.

3. Besides the above, Flavor Flav and his show are hated for committing one of the worst crimes you can commit against progressive black people: Conduct Detrimental to the Race (CDR for short). This broad term is for the select individuals who’s sins are bad enough to prevent the entire race from moving forward at it’s proper pace. Others on this list (depending on who you ask) include: R. Kelly, Michael Jackson, the aforementioned Clarence Thomas and Marion Barry, Ray Caruth, and The Old Dirty Bastard (may he rest in peace).

So - what is man-sharing? One example of man-sharing is when a women knowingly enters into, or continues to participate in a relationship with a man whom she knows is sleeping with other women (or men - yikes!). Another example of man-sharing is when a woman has a ‘more than platonic’ relationship with a man whom she knows is married. How often do these things go on in our culture? How many of us have knowingly been in a relationship that was monogamous on only one side? How many of us have friends who’ve slept with married men, or men in serious long-term relationships? All of this is man-sharing, like it or not. I don’t, necessarily think it’s anyone’s fault… it’s more a condition of our culture, a product of high incarceration rates and low life expectancies among black males. It happens, and we have to be honest with ourselves about it.

Misogyny, like Baseball and Racism, is an American Institution. It is ingrained in the social-fabric of our country and that fact reflects itself in our culture. We see it in some really obvious ways - our music and music videos, the disproportionate salaries among women of color, and in the characterization and portrayal of our women in mainstream media. Misogyny also rears it’s ugly head in ways that women may not even be aware. Black men -when in the private company of other trusted black men - will still resort to words other than “women” as general terms for the opposite sex. Sometimes it’s bitch or bitches, sometimes it’s chick or chicks, shorty, ole’ girl, mama - the list goes on and on and on - rarely, does a woman get called by her name when being discussed by a group of black men. And this isn’t just in the ‘under-educated’ communities within our community. Many of my college friends - whether they’ve gone on to be Doctors, Lawyers, Bankers or Brokers - still call black women “bitches”. The fact that they mean it with no disrespect is indicative of how ingrained misogyny is in our society and culture.

How did we feel, as a race, when the extent of R. Kelly’s pedophilia was finally revealed, or when Marion Barry’s “crack tape” came out or when they found Ray Caruth hiding in the trunk of his rental car after murdering his pregnant girlfriend, or when ODB had his infamous “Wu-Tang is for the Kids” episode at the Grammys. We felt embarrassed and they were subsequently convicted of CDR - and banished from blackness. But how many of us have known or know an R. Kelly. How many of us have a Marion Barry in our family - we all do. We respond with such disdain for these individuals, not just because they’ve committed some really heinous crimes or had some truly embarrassing moments, and not just because their conduct is detrimental to the race; our disdain is also born out of the fact that these men are our friends, our neighbors, and in some cases, our family.

We look at them with the same eyes we look at our crack addicted neighbor, or our perpetually incarcerated cousin. That is the unintended genius of “Flavor of Love”, that it has, in its own way, provided a sort of surreal microcosm of some of the most important issues in Black America: family values, how we’re treating our women, and social responsibility. So the next time the show comes on - be it in re-runs, or a new season - and Flavor Flav in his crown of horns begins laying his women with clocks, signifying their ‘chosen’ status, think not of Flav’s responsibility to his people to “do better” but think of that person in your family who’s just like Flav and your responsibility to them. In doing so, in bettering the lives of those people who these characters remind us of, we’ll bring ourselves closer to that day when a show like Flavor of Love has absolutely no foundation in our reality - then we can appreciate it for what it really is, a really, really, funny show.