Scholarship Keeps Controversial Image in the Spotlight : Education: Despite criticism, the son of the actor who played Buckwheat sees grant as a way to preserve his father’s legacy.

Rhodes scholars are prestigious. Fulbright scholars are admired the world over. But the honor recently bestowed on Cynthia Crass, a graduate theater student at Cal State Northridge, is in a class all by itself.

“I’m the first-ever Buckwheat scholar,” said Crass, the recipient of a new scholarship established by the son of the black actor who as a child played the big-eyed, grinning Buckwheat character in the Our Gang comedies of the 1930s.

Crass, 32, who is white, admits that on the surface at least she has little in common with the gingham-clad youngster for whom the Buckwheat Memorial Scholarship is named. To many people, Buckwheat symbolizes Hollywood’s stereotypical portrayals of African-Americans. So Crass--who was selected on the basis of her academic standing and financial need--was not surprised when the taunts began.

“Among the theater students, everyone was asking if I was going to be wearing my hair in dreadlocks and saying, O-tay, “ she said, repeating the phrase that another Our Gang character, Porky, often said to Buckwheat. “It’s a stereotypical character. There’s no getting around it. . . . It’s sad, but just because of what that name brings to mind, it becomes a joke.”

It is not a joke to Bill Thomas Jr., a Cal State Northridge alumnus whose late father Bill Thomas Sr., portrayed Buckwheat in 93 Our Gang comedies. He knows that some people are offended by the Buckwheat character. He knows many people will make fun.

But for the younger Thomas, whose father stopped acting after his Buckwheat years were over, memories of the man are intertwined with memories of the character he played. Sure, said the son, he could have named the scholarship after his father’s given name.

“But if I had named it the Bill Thomas Memorial Scholarship, it wouldn’t have had the flair or the notoriety,” he said. “Bill Thomas--who the hell is that?”

Even before he created the scholarship, the younger Thomas, a 42-year-old juvenile probation counselor, had strived to preserve the Buckwheat legacy. For years, he has allowed his father’s likeness to adorn neckties, boxer shorts and T-shirts, among other things. The merchandise brings him thousands of dollars a year in royalties--and, at times, some criticism.

Thomas remembers one black salesclerk who objected to selling Buckwheat memorabilia because he felt it was racist. “He said he cringed when he sold it,” Thomas said. “He said I was an Uncle Tom and I was selling out the black race.”

But Thomas does not apologize for his attempts to keep Buckwheat in the spotlight. His father opened doors, he says, for other black actors.

The late Hal Roach began producing the Our Gang comedies in the 1920s. More than 300 children appeared in the films, which Roach said were intended to show “regular kids doing things regular kids do.”

In the 1950s, the films found a new generation of viewers when they were sold to television for release as “The Little Rascals.”

But the gang had pretty much faded from view when, in 1981, NBC’s “Saturday Night Live” aired a skit called “Buckwheat Sings” in which comedian Eddie Murphy imitated the mixed-up way Buckwheat often talked. Coincidentally, the skit appeared on the first anniversary of the elder Thomas’ death; the younger Thomas wrote a letter of protest and received an apologetic letter from producer Dick Ebersol.

“The sketch was absolutely not meant either to racially stereotype the speech patterns of black Americans or to attack your father,” Ebersol wrote.

In 1990, when ABC’s “20/20” aired a piece on a grocery bagger from Tempe, Ariz., who claimed to have played Buckwheat in Our Gang, the son of the bona fide Buckwheat exposed him as an impostor.

“I have lived most of my life with a lot of negative things said about my father,” Thomas said. “The negative things seem like they get more publicity than the nice things.”

Weary of defending his father’s name, Thomas says he hoped the Cal State Northridge scholarship--to which he has pledged $1,500 each year--would be a truly positive memorial. But he wasn’t altogether surprised when it raised a few hackles.

The controversy began last spring, said Philip Handler, CSUN’s dean of the school of the arts, when word of the new scholarship began to spread.

“Some students felt we were perpetuating the stereotype, when of course the intention was just the opposite,” Handler said. Naming the scholarship after Buckwheat created some of the confusion, he said, though he defended Thomas’ decision to do so.

“The word Buckwheat to him brings to mind his father. Whereas to others, who have no family connection, it brings to mind a stereotype. . . . Students today, whose consciousness has been raised very high, are offended,” he said. “But our point is that’s the reason to study the past: so we don’t repeat it.”

Richard W. Bann, who with Leonard Maltin co-authored the upcoming book “The Little Rascals: The Life and Times of Our Gang,” said Buckwheat should be examined in the context of his own era--not today’s.

The character’s nappy hair, oversized shoes and exaggerated, big-eyed reactions certainly made for a stereotypical portrayal, but so did the dimples of Darla, the flirtatious little girl character, Bann said.

Certainly, because so few black actors appeared in movies in the 1930s, Buckwheat’s character had more power to heighten stereotypes of black people as a whole. Darla and the others were among a variety of white actors appearing in movie roles.

And certainly, some of the films are insensitive by today’s standards. When the whole gang came down with measles in one episode, the white children had black spots on their faces. Buckwheat’s measles were white.

But 60 years ago, Bann said, the very fact that Buckwheat was included as a member of the gang was in itself a victory.

“Buckwheat was shown in an integrated schoolroom at a time when there was total segregation” in public schools, Bann said. In the Our Gang films, he added, “you have black kids and white kids playing baseball together--25 years before Jackie Robinson integrated baseball.”

Over the last few months, opposition to the scholarship appears to have waned. Today, some minority students say they support the new grant.

“I don’t think anything is wrong with a fellowship being created in the name of the character that this gentleman’s father played. If he’s proud, we really shouldn’t worry about it,” said Karen Brannon, a senior biology major and president of CSUN’s Black Student Union.

“The name of the character isn’t the problem. The stereotypes are the problem,” she added.

Crass, the first recipient of the scholarship, said it has raised important questions about how artists deal with the past.

“What do you do about literature that (contains) racist implications but that still, for its time, was good?” asked Crass, who teaches drama at a Pasadena high school. “You want (students) to have a historical sense but you also want them to understand what is right. How do you do it? Should we not deal with Mark Twain anymore? It’s something that I struggle with all the time.”

But most fundamentally, Crass said, the scholarship is a son’s touching tribute.

“ ‘Buckwheat’ brings to mind an uneducated person who was always smiling. Eating watermelon, spitting out the seeds. It’s not Albert Einstein who I’m being honored in the name of,” she said. “But the attitude with which the gift is given is important to remember. . . . It’s his way of elevating his father above the character.”