Awk-ward. Plus, I’m pretty sure some folks have avoided eye contact with me since then.

I make no secret of the fact that I watch reality shows, when I’m not working on my dissertation or writing and editing the Techwatch section of Black Enterprise magazine.

BET's Tiny and Toya? Yep. Frankie and Neffie? Occasionally. Real Housewives of Atlanta? Is there another RH? Tool Academy. Top Model (despite the recent “smise” madness), Project Runway, Surreal Life and the monster that started it all for many of us…Flavor of Love. Really, Equiano? you might ask. Well, let’s just say that a former housemate once banned me from yelling out "Flavor Flav" and “Yeah, boyeee” in his presence. Nuff said.

Now, don’t get me wrong. When I say that I “love” rTV, it’s not the sort of love that implies “high art” in the traditional sense. And it's not the kind of love I have for tech gadgets. But when I watch certain shows, particularly those centered on the lives of black women, I do think of Claude McKay’s Home to Harlem, Ann Petry’s The Street, and Gwendolyn Brooks’s “The Mother,” “Annie Allen,” apartment stoops and kitchenettes; and I think of Ntozake Shange’s for colored girl who have considered suicide when the rainbow is enuf.

We might quibble about what constitutes “reality” or even "art" in this case; certain scenes and scenarios in rTV appear (and frequently are) “scripted” or contrived. But there is no denying the real and often raw emotions that come across the screen as black women attempt to reshape their lives and their images in the public sphere.

At this particular moment in our media-saturated lives, rTV provides something that for many, may be missing–one only has to witness the build-up to and disappointment with CNN's Black in America, for example to get a sense of what might be at play. In a recent conversation Afronetizen's Chris Rabb points out that the plethora of black-focused celebrity gossip sites and blogs could very well be an indication of the failure of mainstream media to tell relevant black stories. (You can read more of Chris's comments in the November issue of Black Enterprise magazine.)

I am looking at how these women are using the media (TV, Web, and publishing) in smart and productive ways. Watch the transition Toya is making from teenage mom and former wife to reality show star to author. Or the powerful and poignant story of Keshia Cole's struggle to reunite her family (I now keep track of her updates on Facebook).

Whether we are turned on or are tuning out, we have to admit one thing: the combination of TV, Web, and social media provide powerful tools for many black women to finally have voice–whether or not we want to listen. But by the looks of the ratings, I'm betting we do. Let's not feel guilty about it.