In the recent Shameless episode, "Carl's First Sentencing", Frank, upon being denied alcohol from Veronica at The Alibi, his home-away-from-home, shouts in anger, "since when did your heart become as black as your skin??". V's response is typically dismissive - everyone in the South Side learned long ago to pay no attention to the words leaving Frank Gallagher's mouth. His ridiculous criticism is accepted implicitly, because it is clear that he showers it upon anyone, regardless of their race, gender, or background. For Frank, simply being in his way is enough to merit a veritable onslaught of offensive profanity. In many ways, then, Frank's interactions with people less privileged than his straight-white-male self become a mirror for the show's overall treatment of inclusion and diversity.

Of the show’s main cast of 8-9 characters, there are two prominent black individuals: Liam, the youngest Gallagher child, and Veronica, the Gallagher’s neighbor and Fiona’s best friend. In a strange episode way back in Season 1, 2011, a genetics test is conducted on Liam to determine his parentage (it was assumed, obviously, that an African American boy could not be the genuine offspring of two Caucasian parents). The ulterior motives - there are always, always ulterior motives in the Shameless world - are clear: Monica, the Gallagher mom, and her newfound love, Roberta, want to prove that Liam is not actually Frank’s genetic son. In doing so, they hope to claim him as their own and whiskey him away on a hare-brained truckstop saga of love. Roberta, or “Bob” is a black lesbian truck-driver, a dominant personality with an intimidating physique. Both literally and figuratively, she muscles her way passed the incontinent Frank, appropriating his house and partner as her own. In this way, the show sets up two vying characters who appear to be polar opposites along several lines of identification; gender, sexual orientation (although Frank is rather fluid), and race. Rather than focus on these differences, however, the show actually portrays the glaring similarity in the way these two people treat Monica and the entire Gallagher family situation. Bob is just as apathetic and useless around the house as Frank is, and perhaps even whinier - she harangues and bullies Monica, the unstable and insensitive victim, while at the same time taking her efforts for granted. Of course, in classic Shameless fashion, a barely-explained twist at the end of the episode reveals that Liam does indeed share both parents with all of his older, whiter siblings. Bob and Monica are forced to flee, tails between legs, from the re-instated matriarchy of the Fiona dictatorship.

Rather than split along lines of race, gender, or sexual orientation, the combative tension of the show, in collective rather than individual settings, is almost universally shown to be between different socioeconomic groupings. The show, however, does not seem to have any illusions that race and other factors play into these differences in lifestyle and power. The most pertinent example, from Season 5, of this acute awareness, is Carl’s burgeoning career as a sidewalk-haunting drug-dealer. His boss and every single one of his colleagues in this business are black: in fact, they seem to strongly reinforce stereotypes in the way they speak and act. Carl’s socioeconomic position, being similar to that of his friends who are of racial minorities, grants him a certain level of trust, but is also seen as an opportunity by his boss. On his first day, we see Carl gearing up with the garb that society associates with young black drug dealers: heavy, shiny wrings, fake teeth, and baggy pants. Upon arriving at his office, a run-down street corner, his boss pulls up in a large black Escalade and demands that he change clothing. The boss needs to maximize his white-boy harmlessness in order to diversify his business appeal - his assignment is to sell drugs to all the wealthy white businessmen who are too scared of buying from the young black men. Carl is visibly disappointed, disillusioned by this blunt differentiation. But the boss is the boss, and he does as he’s told. In seconds, he’s dressed in khakis and a polo shirt, getting called over to the window of a shiny new Mercedes Benz. 

As Carl performs better and better in his tokenized role (though not without his fair share of mishaps along the way), he ends up accepting a job to transport a large supply of heroin across state lines. When this scheme disintegrates around him, as drug trafficking through a 14 year old is wont to do, and he’s presented with the option of Juvenile Detention versus snitching on his organization, he stays proudly and stubbornly loyal to his boss. The last scene that we see from him after his sentence is given involves him boarding a bus with a bunch of other delinquents and being ceremoniously presented with a do-rag from a young black man who sits next to him, recognizing his integrity in sacrificing his own freedom for the good of the gang. In this way, Carl is “inducted” into not only the social group of his fellow drug dealers, but also into the aesthetic of stereotypical black culture. Once again this moment of personal triumph is a product of solidarity and loyalty, a process revealing the ethical leanings of the individual rather than race-prescribed allegiances. 

Shameless, in constructing both this episode and others, demonstrates again and again that morality is in no way contingent on background. We meet characters, ranging from unequivocally lecherous to angelically well-intentioned, of all creeds and colors. As they play their way through the narrative of the episode, we are somewhat numbed and desensitized to their physical differences through the constant barrage of vulgarity coming from all sides. Black people are insulted, latino people are insulted, and white people are insulted, all in seemingly equal measure. This can serve as a “depoliticization” of race in this serial show, or it can also be construed as what Shonda Rhimes might term a “normalization” of demographic and individual portrayal. By sparing no gender, race, or orientation from the constant degrading cynicism, the show constructs an image of unbiased critique. The characters are presented so as to be judged on their actions and words,  and how these reveal their own prejudices and hatefulness, rather than being one-dimensional cliches of their stereotypical identity groupings. That being said, the major caveat to this post is that Shameless is in no way perfect: it contains sexism, racism and all other sorts of oppression in rampant amounts. The question is, does it strike the right balance in its attempt to dose the audience with separate-but-equal bouts of hatred? Or, does its bull-headed approach to these sensitive issues serve to alienate certain viewerships, and my appreciation of its treatment is solely a product of my own privileged straight-white-maleness?