It’s been a few weeks since we took a fond look back at a comedy show, and Moesha was one that bridged dramatic subjects with humor beautifully in a sitcom package. One that was also UPN’s biggest success. Grammy Award®-winning R&B singer Brandy Norwood embodied Moesha Mitchell, a role for which she also won an NAACP Image Award® for Outstanding Performance by a Youth Actress and received several other nominations, as did the rest of the cast. As far as ‘90s female role models went — and there were some great ones — Moesha was one of the strongest.

The art of growing up

Occasionally, voiceover is used like the excellent storytelling technique it can be, intrinsically part of the story. And Moesha had it nailed, bookending the pilot and many episodes thereafter with her “dear diary” moments when she would actually sit and write in her diary, while we learned what she was writing through voiceover. It caught the audience up and then gave us privileged information to wrap up her feelings on what had transpired as a clean button on that episode’s theme. The diary itself was a very relatable thing to a young girl in the ‘90s.

So were some of Moesha’s struggles as a teenager; like wanting to date before she turned 16, and then the subsequent boy trouble that follows soon after the fairy tale fantasy is blown. Which is precisely the thing that brings Moesha and her new stepmother, Dee Mitchell (Sheryl Lee Ralph) one baby step closer together in the pilot. Moesha’s not happy her widower father (William Allen Young) has found someone new to take care of him, her little brother Myles (Marcus T. Paulk), and herself. She’s clearly used to being in charge. But her vulnerability at the pilot's close in front of Dee also gives one hope that moving forward, Moesha will allow Dee to take care of her for a change.

And thus the trials of teenager-hood progress, and along with them Moesha tackled life for an upper middle class Black family living in the Leimert Park neighborhood of Los Angeles through humor and heart. And the writers threw it all at her and her friends Niecy (Shar Jackson) and Kim (Countess Vaughn): broken hearts, teen pregnancy, drug use, race relations, gender prejudice and inequality. Heavy for a comedy — and heavy for what any teenager should have to go through.

The family friend trope

Family Matters had Urkel. Sister, Sister had Roger. And Moesha had Hakeem (the late Lamont Bentley). Just like his predecessors, Hakeem went from Moesha’s neighbor to love interest. Forget the “girl next door” trope, what is it about the quirky neighbor boy — and in Hakeem’s case, also Moesha’s friend since childhood — that makes him so appealing? Perhaps the friends-to-lovers storyline is simply a tale as old as time that viewers can empathize with. More likely, the inevitable attraction between old friends reflects the comfort of the known versus the unknown, which in Moesha’s life arrives in the character of Quinton 'Q' Brooks (Fredro Starr) as her on-again, off-again boyfriend and eventual fiancé.

Or perhaps it’s simply the perfect script device of having the ever-present “will they or won’t they” built in when the possible foil to any of Moesha’s other boyfriends is the friend who shows up at the family dinner table every other night to create a love triangle. It’s all at once convenient, funny and strikes an empathetic chord.

TV’s extended family

Crossovers are fun, but spin-offs can be even better. Eventually, Moesha’s best friend Kim Parker left to attend community college — and have her own show, The Parkers, in which Mo’Nique played her mom. The show was co-created by Moesha’s dream team Ralph Farquhar, Sara Finney-Johnson and Vida Spears. Several of the Moesha cast did guest star, including Mo herself. Then, Moesha writer and producer Mara Brock Akil created Girlfriends and The Game, which existed in the same universe as far as some vague character ties and location were concerned. Though Brandy played an entirely different character on The Game; Chardonnay Pitts.

It makes one wonder if these are studio marketing schemes, or simply creative choices because people making film and television appreciate these kinds of connections as much as the people watching them. However naively, I choose the latter because as hard as it is to see beyond the politics and dollar signs sometimes, every show starts out as the lovechild of some writer’s mind.

In retrospect

While Moesha’s viewership declined to the point of abrupt cancellation after season six — leaving audiences with cliffhangers galore — on the flip side, no show sticks around network television that long without leaving an impression in the cultural zeitgeist. Back in the collective consciousness now thanks to streaming services and alongside some of its network neighbors from the decade — The Fresh Prince of Bel Air, Living Single, and Family Matters — Moesha reflects Black life, culture and music for a new generation of young women finding their way.

Catch all episodes of Moesha on Netflix.