Saying goodbye to a show that is so much more than a show. For many of us, Brooklyn 99 was the first show that BIPOC saw themselves represented in the media (I know, it’s 2021, isn’t that a sad phrase?). But it’s true. For many minority groups, most of our on screen story lines contain trauma, suffering solely based on our identity, or lusting after the American Dream. All story plots that convey the following message: if you are not white, your goal is to live life closest to that of whiteness, and if you don’t, you will be met with endless obstacles.
But Brooklyn 99 didn’t conform to those stories, and it didn’t shy away from the realities of living in a straight, cisgender, white, male dominated world. So am I supposed to watch the final season without feeling emotional? Without bawling like I just stubbed my toe?
For me, Brooklyn 99 was a virtual safe haven. The characters: Jake, Amy, Rosa, Gina, Terry, Charles, and Holt all have fleshed out backstories that enrich their character development over the last eight years. For the first time, I saw a bisexual Latina on screen, who didn’t make herself smaller to make others feel better. Rosa Diaz’s coming out episode showcased the fight-or-flight instinct many queer people have before sharing their identity with family members. And although her family does not automatically accept her with open arms, her Brooklyn 99 family envelops her in love.
Amy Santiago, your unapologetic geekiness will forever hold a special place in my heart. Never had I seen a certified badass obsess over binder tabs (we can’t have weak tabs), study methods, and trainings. Amy’s character began trying to prove how much she is “one of the guys” with an unspoken need to prove her worth and toughness as a detective. Her character resonates with a lot of Latina women, especially those who come from families that still (consciously and unconsciously) perpetuate gender roles.
But Brooklyn 99 isn’t all jokes and rainbows. The show manages to cultivate bucket loads of real social issues. For its eighth season, the show isn’t shying away from the public backlash of centuries of police brutality. The B99 cast and characters are individually and collectively analyzing their careers as detectives working for a racist and classist institution that is entrenched with white supremicist and anti-blackness ideals. But the show can only do so much, at its core Brooklyn 99 is cop propaganda as it’s a comedy-feel good-cop show.
Nonetheless, it was my comfort show. One that makes me excited to find future friends and family to replace losing Brooklyn 99’s characters.
A final note, or better yet, image that showcases my enthusiasm and upcoming grief for the end of the season:
