What’s Your Money Story?
One of my first students at Pockets Change told me, “If I don’t have a plan for my money, my money’s gonna have a plan for me.”
It’s a simple statement that also happens to be some of the best financial advice I’ve ever heard.
We start forming relationships with money between 3-7 years old; while we’re listening to Elmo sing about getting new shoes or sneaking to the doorway as our parents watch Succession. Fictional characters’ wants and needs fill more than screens; they shape our financial narratives.
Across storylines, characters exemplify money personalities in action. Every iteration of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles spends their (literally) hard fought loot on pizza, but each member embodies distinct habits & tendencies. That’s why our multigenerational Hip Hop & Finance programs start with finding your money personality. We use a simple, 2 question money personality quiz to determine one of four money personalities. The questions are rooted in financial psychology and behavioral economics.
Through money personalities, Students, teachers, and family members of all ages have been able to forgive themselves and move forward. The 4 personalities are full of relatable tendencies that make sense of the seemingly irrational ways we deal with money. Do you only buy things on sale? You may be a complicator! Do you end up blowing the big check you just got because it was from an Evil Corporation? You might be a money monk.
The money havers and knowers love telling young adults about the necessity and urgency of making a financial plan. Set long term goals, invest for your future, make a vision board, max out your 401k, build generational wealth.
Save, invest, and protect the right percentages of your wages, advocate for raises, stick to your plan, and everybody will be wealthy and we’ll have world peace. Do the right thing? Spike Lee made a film about how easy it is to do that.
It’s why many officials want financial education taught as a part of math class. Hard work + discipline = success… except when it doesn’t.
There’s no mathematical or magical formula for perfecting our finances. Budgets are personal and cash flow projections are literal guesses. If all that seems fake, and made up, good! So is money.
Take a breath. [Editor's note: ‘take a breath’ is the definition of inspiration]
Money is about more than numbers, it’s a tool to create change. As storytellers, content creators, and community builders we have a tremendous power to deconstruct money myths and cultivate empathy for the financial exploitation, discrimination, and oppression young adults are being called to navigate.
Our research partner, Knology, found Pockets Change’s approach highly effective in building financial resilience through hip hop pedagogy. Through shared practices and resources we have meaningful money conversations across mediums.
Storytelling creates a transformative space for real, open, and empowering conversations about money. As our students explore their own relationships with money, multimedia creates paths to overcome obstacles, encourage empathy, engage curiosity, and envision possibilities.
Our shared money stories shift narratives that have held back our communities for generations. We encourage content creators and program leaders to reflect on where financial themes could enrich their next project.
Bring Money Stories to Life with Actionable Insights:
Expand storytelling beyond the “middle–class centric” values and assumptions too often depicted. Explore the breadth and depth of how our relationships with money show up.
Share empowering stories of navigating uncertainty and enhancing financial wellbeing even when money is scarce or employment precarious.
Promote self-acceptance and efficacy with the message that “whatever it is you have; these are the ways that you’re able to save and this is what you’re able to do to grow.” As one individual told us, the program approach was valuable because it taught youth how “not to have money control you.”
The Social, Political and Personal Effects of Trans Media as told by Tre’vell Anderson
Queer history is not often what society’s heteronormative lens perceives it to be. Queer history dates back to a time when the word did not exist but people who expressed their truest selves did. Tre’vell Anderson, in their book “We See Each Other: A Black, Trans Journey Through TV and Film” explores their own journey of self-discovery as bookmarked by queer media throughout the ages.
Anderson is a journalist who co-hosts podcasts FANTI and What a Day and advocates for trans visibility through their board position in the National Association of Black Journalists. Their inspiration for “We See Each Other: A Black, Trans Journey Through TV and Film” was a culmination of the questions and comments they had on the history of trans images on the big screen.
“Often film and television in our culture is deemed as superfluous, having no meaning or not being important or significant. But, for so many of us film and TV has been a possibility model in terms of how we could potentially show up in the world and it became important in the telling of this history.”
The Morning Consult and Trevor Project reported that out of 2,000 American adults polled, only 29% said they know someone who identifies as transgender. Anderson is quick to point out that most people merely believe they haven’t.
“Trans people have always existed, we are existing in everybody’s community right now. Perhaps you don’t know that trans people exist in your community or you don’t know that you’ve met a trans person because you, the individual, have not made that space around you safe enough for that trans person to tell you.”
Hollywood’s Role
GLAAD has been tracking the presence of trans characters in its annual Where We Are on TV report for many years, noting that in the most recent season of TV analyzed, five percent of characters were openly trans. This represents a higher percentage than the number of openly trans Americans in recent data, meaning that many Americans likely have a better chance of encountering a trans person on TV than in their hometowns.
Many Americans have learned everything they know about the trans community from the media and the trans narratives they feature. Media is still showing transgender individuals in scenes and experiences that are intended to implant the idea that being transgender is synonymous with something “ridiculous, horrible and abhorrent,” as Anderson states. It plays a large role in not just the erasure of trans history but it creates a complacence in audiences where they don’t question these narratives of transgender people that are being constantly perpetuated.
“What people learn about us as trans people is coming from film and TV, coming from our cultural productions. So how does what we see on TV and in movies manifest as the very real violences that we as trans people, especially black trans people and especially black trans women see in film?”
In Anderson’s opinion, films like “Psycho” and “Silence of the Lambs” that show transgender people or people in drag as killers, predators, groomers, and/or criminals promote dangerous ideas to their audiences. They feel that audiences are more inclined to accept seeing trans people on the screen being killed because, subconsciously, they do not value the lives of these characters as they might other characters in the story.
“You don’t even question it, which is evidence of how in a lot of ways, so many people, trans people included, become complicit in transphobia and anti-trans hate, transmisia... So a lot of my work at this moment is about getting people to realize the ways in which we are all complicit in the violence that we say we are against.”
However, Anderson points to the people who spearheaded trans visibility in media: Candis Cayne - the first transgender actress to play a recurring transgender character on the primetime show, Dirty Sexy Money, Chaz Bono - whose transitioning journey was highlighted in the documentary, Becoming Chaz, and was screened at the 2011 Sundance Film Festival and appeared on the Oprah Winfrey Network, and Laverne Cox - the first transgender person to be nominated for a Primetime Emmy Award and who later won a Daytime Emmy Award for being an executive producer on “Laverne Cox Presents: The T Word.”
“You have these people but then you also have a generation, generations of trans folk who are working actors, working directors, producers, who are visible on social media and beyond at the same time.”
Political Backlash
Despite this progress, Anderson explains how they, in their book and in their life, see trans visibility as a double-edged sword. While this visibility is impactful in portraying the trans community in a complex and positive manner, it also places a spotlight on the community that can be exploited to stoke fear, political action, and in some cases, violence.
“That visibility, which has allowed so many people to be seen, which has allowed so many people to actualize their truth because they now have an example of what that could look like at the same time this means we are seeing the trans community in particular, but the LBGTQ+ community more broadly, facing legislative attack.”
Supporting the trans community has become highly politically charged. It is all too common for conservative social media users to post angry messages about listing personal pronouns or for conservative parents to appear on the news complaining about trans athletes competing against their children. Legislatively, this culture of outrage has resulted in laws over who can use which bathroom, bans on gender-affirming care, and even the regulation of speech surrounding LGBTQ+ issues in schools. These harmful policies dehumanize trans people, deny them basic human rights, and send a message that how trans people express themselves is intolerable.
Even before the term transgender existed, people who identified as such were present. In these instances, the lack of language perhaps offered them some reprieve from the hatred transgender people experience today. Anderson points out people like Marsha P. Johnson - who wasn’t calling herself a transgender woman - and Slyvester James Jr. - who wasn’t identifying with today’s terms like gender non-conforming or non-binary but was still expressing oneself in an androgynous manner. Now language is being weaponized by people who are too narrow-minded or hateful to expand their words and perspectives.
“By weaponizing the visibility of a community that folks feel like they don’t know because of language, while also exploiting what is just a natural gender ignorance, folks who don’t know this new language or haven’t heard it, who aren’t in social justice or socially component communities when it comes to transness and non-binary identity are doing this because it allows them to have a greater base of support of hate.”
Supporting the Trans Community
Anderson’s book, “How We See Each Other” is an essential resource in not only understanding the good and bad ways that transgender people have been represented in the media overtime, but also what storytellers should be doing to support the trans community when they need it most. Within its pages, Anderson encourages everyone to look at what content they are consuming and employ that awareness to create a safer environment for trans people in everyday life.
“What I’m talking about in the book is how so many of these images have helped me create out of the depths of my imagination this being, this person that I am today.”
While there exist people whose only intention is to erase and diminish, to tell the transgender community who they can and cannot be, Anderson preaches a brave and earnest freedom that has been the antidote to all of this hatred.
“I’m going to be who I know I am. I’m going to articulate myself based on the truth of my own internal knowing not what you or a doctor or the Republicans or the Democrats say we are.”
The conditioning that says your autonomy and freedom should be stifled or that you are confined to the box that society has placed you in based on the gender you were assigned at birth is rightfully being broken with this proud way of thinking and existing.
Media corporations and people in society as a greater whole can all contribute by starting simply with looking at their own actions and beliefs. Anderson urges everyone to look inside themselves and recognize whether they are creating a safe space for trans people in their local communities. Whether you know or not that you are coming in contact with a transgender person, there should be an inherent respect and safe intention in everyone’s actions.
For Anderson that means fighting back on transphobic jokes, asking employers if the insurance offers gender-affirming care, advocating for gender neutral bathrooms in communities or any other small but impactful step you can take locally.
In the film industry, this means working to create more opportunities for transgender people to find jobs and find fame simply by being who they are.
“We don’t have a transgender movie star, like a transgender Will Smith or Denzel Washington or Viola Davis. That largely connects to the opportunities that trans actors and actresses have been given and offered. In this industry we don’t have a Hollywood studio led by any trans people.”
These are institutional changes that society should make to broaden the scope of knowledge and human experience that the media is showing but more than that, it starts with a single person’s actions.
“I know it sounds innocuous but the reality is that we need people to stand up for and assert the humanity of trans people proudly and loudly.”
For Anderson, they believe that if there had been this education and awareness of transgender communities when they were growing up, they could have had an entirely different experience, one that they are hoping young transgender people can finally have today.
“Who might I have been if I knew the outsized impact that Black folks have had on culture and society since the beginning of time? Who could I have been if I had known about the trans pioneers? Imagine who I could have been if I had all of those things, imagine who [transgender people] could be when fully equipped with the information that accurately reflects the society that we live in currently and that we have always lived in.”
This bittersweet provocation proves the importance of enriching society with more culturally component resources and education and not allowing the erasure of entire communities from history.
“It requires us to remain vigilant in our storyteller, in our advocacy and everything else in between.”
This issue of trans-visibility and trans-violence is not just an issue for the moment. It is something to consider and combat everyday through education, compassion and practiced acts of inclusion. Storytellers and filmmakers can use their platforms to create more content that inspires audiences who, like Anderson, struggled to see themselves reflected in the media. Writers and journalists can tell the stories of individuals who are queer and can accurately comment on the experiences they face. It is the responsibility of creators and consumers alike to increase visibility with everyday small but important actionable changes.
The Symbiotic Relationship between Researchers, Storytellers, and Gen Z in Authentically Representing LGBTQ+ Youth
Media has the power to shape our communities, and that is especially important when we look at the representation of historically marginalized groups like the LGBTQ+ community. The ideas and beliefs contained in media content, both positive and negative, directly impact audience attitudes about the world around them. When featuring queer adolescent characters, it’s essential to listen to the perspectives of today’s teens and young adults and create stories that implement the real change and representation they want to see in their communities. In a cycle of listening, creating, and learning, storytellers, adolescents, and researchers can and should collaborate to create authentic depictions of LGBTQ+ adolescents that inspire and positively impact audiences.
Sheena Brevig, a filmmaker and the Workshop Director for the Center for Scholars & Storytellers (CSS), draws from her own experiences as a queer person to foster more accurate representation of LGBTQ+ communities in film and television. Whether it be through facilitating workshops for large entertainment companies or working on smaller film projects, often in collaboration with other queer creators, she “really believes in the power of storytelling to break down walls and foster conversations that might be hard to have.”
For Brevig, the most beautiful part of this is creating projects that others can watch and relate to, find bits of themselves in, and serve as parallel experiences for the queer community.
“It’s about increasing visibility for the queer community as well as breaking down stigma. Particularly in queer communities of color and in my case, Asian and Japanese queer communities.”
For instance, Brevig’s LGBTQ+ Identities workshops have created vulnerable moments of sharing and healing between strangers.
“People end up sharing really vulnerable things and it seems to be somewhat cathartic, or it seems to start a conversation for the company on their end. We have played the role of this unique kind of start-the-conversation-space.”
Brevig and her team have even worked to tackle areas often not addressed when considering diversifying media landscapes, like the gaming industry. In collaboration with Activision Blizzard King Gaming, Brevig ran one of the most interactive workshops to support the breaking of old patterns and toxic representations of gender. The Body Diversity Workshop, which ran in collaboration with Warner Media explored “body-type diversity, representation, and character creation. It was something every single person in the audience could relate to, it doesn’t matter what gender you are or how old you are.”
Many industries and companies stick to stale tactics of performative LGBTQ+ representation – like adding rainbow colors to their company’s logo for Pride Month – and think it achieves the impact queer youth are asking for. In actuality, these are tiny changes that check a box but do not appease the greater audience who want more acknowledgment and action. These audience demands are long overdue and Brevig encourages the calling out of companies that have not completely embraced this wave of much-needed change.
“The queer community is critical of what they’re seeing and they want to feel represented, they will call out things that are through a heteronormative lens. ”
It is not just about quantity but quality of representation, for example expanding past just the gay white male lens and including all queer communities. This pursuit for intentional content that creates a genuinely positive impact is one of the best outcomes of Brevig’s workshops. They unify and inspire others to learn from her team’s guidance and plant seeds of change wherever they go.
Clearly, the impact is evident, with people who participated in CSS’ workshops applying learned empathy to shows and movies they create. After attending the workshops, Tim Federle, the showrunner for High School Musical: The Musical: The Series, a show that ran on Disney Channel starting in 2019, was able to bring a fresh awareness and perspective to the writers' room when developing his diverse cast of queer characters. “It was a really full circle moment where I saw how the workshops we put on were applied. As a viewer, I saw how much I could reap the benefits of seeing this more inclusive and more accurately, authentically representative content,” said Brevig.
For Nare Aghadjanian, a rising sophomore at UCLA, who identifies as queer and fights for queer rights every day, seeing shows like High School Musical: The Musical: The Series and other recently diversified shows is something she has a personal stake in. For Aghadjanian, feeling safe and represented is equally about a physical and digital environment.
At UCLA she says that at first she “wasn’t expecting to feel as safe being out as queer at [school] as [much as she] ended up being.” But Aghadjanian found a community.
“There was a Pride Admit Weekend that I attended online that made me feel really glad about going to LA for school, I knew that no matter what I would always have a community, and after being surrounded by a lot of homophobia that led to major mental health issues, it was a breath of fresh air to see the resource center and queer groups at UCLA. ”
Digital and intangible representation is just as important and impactful and Aghadjanian fiercely highlighted all the negativity and misrepresentation that is not being addressed. “I see so much racism, misogyny, transphobia, sexualization, and ableism.” She echoes the need to break free of the heteronormative patterns industries have fallen into, saying how mainstream movies and novels only focus on what makes them comfortable rather than what actually incites change. “When aiming for representations of marginalized groups it’s important actually to have it represent the general public - these movies shouldn’t be focused on the sexual aspect or just be one big coming out story.”
Nuanced storytelling is what Aghadjian is fighting for and she encourages every young, eager queer person to fight for it too. “I hope one day queer representation will turn towards actual representation and not just be a glorification of a white gay man, even if that representation is critical as well,” she said. The amplification of voices like hers is another step industries, researchers and creators alike should take, expanding their hearts to listen and implement what the youth actually feel.
“Queer people are not just a coming out story or solely experience violence, there should be an incorporation of all love.”
The benefit is nothing if not a win-win, allowing audiences to feel more seen, reflecting the world as it really is, and allowing studios to find more success and respect in the industry.
Research is the root of all this change and communication between researchers and creators is the conduit to representation that reflects the truth of queer stories and real-lived experiences. Adriana Manago, Ph.D., a cultural development psychologist, has been researching LGBTQ+ adolescents and the power of social media. She’s found that social media was not an obstacle but a tool for LGBTQ+ kids to explore themselves and use the language of the Internet to develop their queer identities in a place full of community and validation.
“There are three key navigational strategies on social media for engaging with cultural narratives for gender and sexuality on social media platforms: seeking and sharing information, creating queer community, and making choices about visibility and permanence.”
By engaging in all of these activities, LGBTQ+ teens can branch past the restrictive definitions of gender that Manago said are part of the hard-to-break rigidity of youth identity development. More than anything, a supportive environment whether digital or family-based is key to offering the honest and authentic space LGBTQ+ teens need to feel understood and represented in the media they are consuming.
“LGBTQ+ community is not a monolith. My students and I have examined variations in social media use and consequences depending on family contexts and intersections between gender, sexual, and ethnic identities. In these studies, we are finding that LGBTQ+ youth who have more supportive families and who provide resources for exploration and validation are less likely to rely on social media to understand and construct the self.”
Being proactive and utilizing the various intersecting identities of individuals to initiate change is one of the most important and beautiful tools of research. LGBTQ+ teens are using social media to find a safe space and to understand themselves, and so perhaps if creators understand this intimate need for a space to grow, this quest will be satiated much sooner. If Brevig’s comments and Aghadjian’s input are taken to heart, compounded with the robust research of psychologists like Manago, real change is on the horizon and this Pride Month brings us one step closer to it.
The Push for Authentic Asian American Representation in the Media
AAPI Heritage Month Feature
Jeremy Hsing, director of short films, “Iridescence” and “Fish” has been searching all his life for the perfect way to weld his creative pursuits with his self-exploration journey. In this quest to express himself and his culture, Hsing found a passion for filmmaking and uses his writing and directing skills to tell his stories and inspire others to do the same.
“Iridescence,” his short film on his experiences with family, love, and mental health within underrepresented communities, was his bold introduction to the film world. Hsing called the difficult but rewarding process of making it and sharing it his own personal form of exposure therapy.
“It’s a short that combined intergenerational healing with my Asian American culture and also has some magical realism with its animation sequence,” he said.
Hsing wrote, produced, and directed the film himself, learning as he went along and pouring his life into every scene and frame. His vulnerable depiction of his mental health struggles found an audience in his family and opened the door to important conversations that Hsing said felt lacking in his family and within his Asian American culture.
“I didn’t make it for the art, I made it for the message and I think the message really resonated with my family, both immediate and extended. It opened up our conversation and made us all more open about mental health.”
For Hsing, being able to tell his story and have his family listen, and challenge some of the stigmas of mental health, was the first step to change.
“I think it's a generational, cultural stigma that manifests in different ways for each family, but there is that overarching theme of ‘I went through all this stuff in my life and experienced all this hardship, so whether it's unconscious or not, I displaced it onto the next generation’” he said in explanation of the often implicit stress this generation of POC, particularly those whose parents are immigrants, can feel.
“My goal, because of the privilege that I have in being born after these generations of hardship, is to try to end that intergenerational cycle so that if I have kids one day, they don’t have to experience trauma.”
Hsing’s demonstration of art and film as a way to change the lives and minds of everyday people is one of many examples of the power of media. Stories and the way they are told have the intimate ability to challenge ideas, beliefs, and stereotypes and in their place plant richer, more accepting narratives.
He finds inspiration in the Asian films Hollywood has produced lately, specifically diverse stories that pave the way for those who want to subtly but powerfully incite change and understanding with their content. It is the path he took and he was grateful in acknowledging that change is a slow but steady process – in the film industry and within himself and his family.
“Every generation of my bloodline, I guess, becomes slightly more progressive and open to deviating from the social norm, so I am a byproduct of that, for which I’m grateful.”
However, the media, much like the humans that create it, is still full of many biases and unfair depictions of people and cultures. Particularly during Asian American and Pacific Islander (AAPI) Heritage Month, we recognize the lack of representation being offered and more than that, the harmful, stereotypical representation of Asian Americans that often is seen in TV and film.
While a lot of progress has been made with movies like “Crazy Rich Asians” or the Netflix series “Never Have I Ever,” there is still a well-placed burden on directors to create work that addresses not only inaccuracies in cultural depictions but also seamlessly weaves said culture into the everyday lives of characters in a subtle and destigmatizing way.
“Pieces shouldn’t rely on cultural cliches; all of these characters are their own and human and I feel like that's what makes stories so successful. Not that they are an Asian cast, but because it's just a really good story, those are the type of stories that I want to tell,” Hsing said when asked about the current Asian American representation in television and film.
For Hsing, the strongest stories are about real people and cultures, a truth that you believe in. Lived experiences breed the best storytellers and much like other young, diverse creators, he was grateful for the chance to share an authentic part of himself through his films.
Hollywood can take a page out of his book and, as Hsing highlighted, realize that the richest and best form of representation are films and shows that don’t play on or rely on the typical cultural stereotypes or ideas one unfairly associates with Asian Americans.
“I think that media and art hold a lot of merit to society and society in the United States is becoming more diverse by the day. I don’t even think it’s performative, I think it’s just accurately reflecting what society is.”
Especially now during AAPI Heritage Month, it is more important than ever to recognize the struggles this often marginalized community faces and the valuable stories they can offer the world. Creating the space to share these stories and intently listening and learning is the responsibility of every creator and consumer. Whether it be to combat the very real generational trauma Asian Americans experience or a way for us to learn and work on our own inherent biases, Hsing has shown that while the media can perpetuate negative stereotypes, it can also beautifully change them, one family and one young creator at a time.
Mireille Karadanaian
CSS Intern
Iridescence: Empathy Through Storytelling
AAPI Heritage Month Feature
When the rise of Asian hate crimes became so prevalent that it reached national headlines, I felt lost. As a child of Chinese immigrants who grew up in Southern California my whole life, it made me question my relationship with my own culture in a way that I never had before. What could I do to help my community? How could I do my part in trying to heal the polarizing divide in our country? My answer to these questions? Write the story of my life.
How Iridescence Came To Life
I believe that hate comes from a lack of empathy, and that media has the unique capability of giving the viewer a glimpse into someone else’s life, finding a universality in the personal. It might not change their mind completely, but at the very least, it can potentially challenge their preconceived notions on who someone is. So, I wrote a deeply personal short titled Iridescence that explores intergenerational trauma, mental health, and toxic masculinity. I utilized the Center for Scholars & Storytellers’ Boy’s Tip Sheet as a reference in shaping the dialogue and interactions of the characters. I also had the script workshopped in our CSS weekly lab session where multiple lab members gave me resources to research on authentically portraying cultural conflict and Asian mental health. Afterwards, an excerpt from my script was also used as an icebreaker in a CAPE x Center for Scholars & Storytellers think tank on how to authentically portray mental health in media. At the think tank, CAPE Executive Director Michelle Sugihara, congratulated me on my work and I was given invaluable feedback from scholars and storytellers alike on how to improve the script. Fast forward several months later and Iridescence is now making the rounds in the film festival circuit, where it’s placed as a Semifinalist in the Los Angeles Chinese Film Festival and a Finalist for the Independent Shorts Awards among several other accolades. It also has been spotlighted by the Daily Bruin and reviewed by a disability led non-profit organization that I hold near and dear to my heart, RespectAbility.
Breaking Stigma Through Conversation
While winning awards is a cool experience, I view it as secondary to my primary goal with the film which is to destigmatize mental health in the AAPI community. With that, I made sure to create a podcast to accompany the film where I interviewed the cast and crew regarding important taboo topics such as growing up as a minority, mental health allyship, understanding the love languages and cultural differences of our parents, and storytelling as a mechanism for change. I’ve had members of the cast and crew open up to me about how working on the project made them more willing to have those tough conversations with their family and friends, which has been indescribably fulfilling to me.
The Power of Authentic Storytelling
With a cast and crew largely consisting of women and the AAPI community, the film embodies the type of stories I want to tell. Being that the script is based on my own family, I did a table read with them. While my brother and mom were quick to congratulate me, my dad was silent. However, similar to the theme of the film itself, he sent me a long text afterwards, confiding in me that although he never was the type to say “I love you”–he really does. That moment of catharsis is the power of storytelling. As a DEIA advocate, I view authentic storytelling as a moral responsibility. It’s so important to do the research and consult with organizations with your stories because they have real world ramifications on the culture and society. Moving forward, I want to tell authentic stories that bridge the divide in our world and help us see each other not as archetypes, but as human beings. And organizations like the Center for Scholars & Storytellers as well as the Coalition of Asian Pacifics in Entertainment equip me with the resources and skills to do just that.
Jeremy Hsing
Writer/Director, Former CSS Intern
Boosting Asian American Women's Visibility Through Comics
AAPI Heritage Month Feature
As a little girl I watched Mulan six times a day, no seriously, six times. I sat with my lola on the couch all day fixated on this girl who left everything she knew to fight for the honor of her family and her country. I think subconsciously I was drawn to Mulan more than the other Disney princesses, not simply because she looked like me, but because she was a girl who didn’t need saving from any prince; she saved the day herself. As I grew up, I continued to keep my eyes glued to the silver screen because the magic of storytelling made me feel so alive. It asks the audience to step outside of themselves, to have genuine care and curiosity about another person’s life, to dig deep into another’s soul, and that is powerful.
Rushing to be where all the storytelling action was, I moved to Los Angeles with my mom at 17-years-old. I remember coming out of auditions and realizing that not a lot of people looked like me. Was it because the roles that were written weren’t really written for people that looked like me? Was it because Asian Americans aren’t typically thought of as leading ladies? All these questions were circulating in my mind until one day I decided to do something about it. I realized that if I’m not seeing the roles for young girls out there that look like me, then I was going to have to be part of the solution.
Instead of waiting around and taking a passive seat to all the major players in the entertainment industry, we decided to take action. My mom and I began discussing what this representation could look like. Being the sci-fi, fantasy, superhero-loving family that we are, we thought, “why couldn’t we imagine a world in which a young Filipina superhero exists?” That’s when we decided to take control. Let’s just create the stories we wanted to see and not ask for permission to be seen. As we continued to play around with the idea of a story rooted in Filipino culture, we began diving into the different mythos of the Philippines and realized how fantastic and magical these tales were. With superheroes being a huge part of the comic book genre and the world of Philippine mythology so vibrant, we thought the best way to tell this story would be through the visual medium of comic books.
Despite female readers accounting for half of the comic book audience in its early popularity in the 1940’s, history has shown that women continue to be left out of the narrative. As major comic book companies grew, such as Marvel and DC, the focus shifted to the superhero genre that was tailored toward male viewership. Female representation is seriously lacking both on and off the page. Research shows that despite the growth in female artists and writers in the comic book industry, women are still heavily underrepresented with female creators accounting for 16-17% of Marvel and DC’s talent pool. This underrepresentation can further explain why women are left off the page and not represented as the main character with just 12% of mainstream superhero comics showcasing female protagonists. Out of these few female protagonists, many are drawn with unrealistic bodies and exaggerated features that hyper-sexualize the female body and cater specifically to the male gaze. These stories are often filled with a surplus of sexist undertones and provocative poses that send unattainable messages of striving for an impossible body. So where does that leave young female readers? Who do they have to not only look up to, but see themselves truly reflected in? Where are the characters that make them say “I know her. I am her.”
Of course, these types of characters are not likely to be written in an authentic way (or at all) if the people from our communities aren’t welcomed in the writers rooms. Representation is not true representation if it is only seen in one sector of the industry. When we mean representation we mean visibility both on and off the screen and page. Asian American female writers and artists are necessary to tell these stories authentically. So when we were creating our team for our comic book company, it only made sense that the mission of our company, which is to highlight “Asian” and “women”-driven narratives, was reflected in the team itself. This led us to create the first all Asian women comic book company.
The first series of Kwento Comics, The Mask of Haliya, tells the story of a Filipina-American teen, Marisol Reyes, who goes to the Philippines after the death of her great-grandmother. There, she finds a mysterious wooden mask at the wake where she not only finds herself imbued with incredible powers, but at the epicenter of an ancient war between Philippine shamans and gods of the Underworld. When introducing our main character, we wanted to break the stereotypes of women in comic books that had unrealistic body types and create an accurate depiction of a young Filipina girl growing into adulthood. A girl who isn’t perfect, who messes up and is trying to figure it all out, an unlikely hero. Asian American women have been scarcely represented in US media. In a study conducted by UCLA’s 2022 Hollywood Diversity Report, Asians represented 5.6% of film leads with women representing less than half of those leads. When they are represented, historically they have been depicted as stereotypes from the “Dragon Lady”, “China Doll”, or “The Nerd”. It was imperative that we break this cycle at Kwento Comics and shine a light on untold narratives and dynamic, fully fleshed out characters. Through the discovery of her family’s ancestral past and Filipino culture, Mari will go down a journey of self-discovery and an understanding of who she is truly destined to become.
Another important element of our storytelling is the inclusion of Philippine mythology. Audiences have seen everything from Greek to Roman to Norse Mythology with the likes of Zeus, Jupiter, and Thor, however there are a plethora of other mythologies in the world that never get the spotlight. As a young Filipina girl growing up, I was never exposed to the vibrant world of Philippine mythology that existed. Similar to our main character who goes to the Philippines where she discovers her Filipino heritage, the comic book was a way for me to dive deep into my own culture and share it with the world. It is through working on this comic book that I have taken true pride in where I come from and hope that others will feel inspired to do the same by creating more content that lifts up Asian American visibility in media.
Actionable Insights:
Do research on your own culture and see what folks, legends, and myths your ancestors told to each other.
Show more women in comics with real and authentic bodies.
Create dynamic female characters that follow the Bechdel Test.
When assembling your creative team, include those part of marginalized communities - BIPOC, LGBTQ+, and women.
Waverley Lim
Former UCLA Student
Read more about Kwento Comics in The Daily Bruin.
Turning Red: The Experience of Asian American Teenage Girls
AAPI HERITAGE MONTH FEATURE
For the celebration of AAPI (Asian American and Pacific Islander) heritage month, we chose to highlight Pixar’s first Asian-led film – Turning Red. The coming-of-age animated movie, featuring predominantly Asian American (AA) characters, is the first to be solo directed by a woman and, more specifically, a woman of color, Domee Shi. Turning Red centers on Meilin “Mei” Lee, a 13-year-old Chinese Canadian girl who navigates through puberty, friendship, and cultural expectations.
To our surprise, some reviewers have criticized the film as too personal and specific to be relatable to most audiences. However, we have found that Turning Red accurately depicts what other films haven’t been able to before: our unique experiences growing up as AA teenage girls.
Asian American Mother-Daughter Conflict
The mother-daughter relationship has been the topic of many stories about young girls throughout the years. Films such as Lady Bird, Freaky Friday, and Brave have portrayed this relationship, but the intergenerational conflict between AA moms and daughters is particularly distinctive. For AA immigrant families, this conflict often stems from the disconnect between collectivism and individualism, or the core community values of Eastern and Western cultures, respectively. Turning Red follows in the footsteps of AA mother-daughter stories (such as Joy Luck Club) and adds to a growing list of films that depict this dynamic (such as Everything, Everywhere, All at Once).
The relationship between Mei and her mom, Ming, fluctuates throughout the movie. Mei tries her best to be the perfect daughter according to her family’s expectations, but begins to experience changes in her body, hormone levels, and behavior. She transforms into a giant red panda when she feels strong emotions, such as joy, anger, sadness, and embarrassment. The panda serves as a metaphor for puberty, a turbulent time for both children and parents. Mei starts to fight with her mom and goes against her mom’s expectations and family traditions. The film does not glorify disobedience; rather, it portrays the complicated reality of the parent-child dynamic during adolescence. In particular, Turning Red highlights the immigrant mother-daughter bond and the trauma passed down from one generation to the next. Like what was done previously, Ming seeks to control and suppress Mei’s red panda. As Mei learns to deal with her red panda and tackle her family’s intergenerational trauma, she and her mom realize that it is okay to embrace the messy parts of yourself.
The Importance of 4*Town
Another source of parental conflict is Mei’s desire to attend the 4*Town concert with her friends. Although many dismiss 4*Town as a comedic portrayal of the hormonal, boy-crazy tendencies of teenage girls, boy bands and fandom culture play an important role in AA identity development. For AA teens growing up on the Internet, some of the first AA media representation was through YouTube creators. Some channels explored makeup and Asian beauty, like Michelle Phan and Jenn Im, while others made comedy skits about AA identity, like Ryan Higa and Wong Fu Productions. Fans of these creators on YouTube developed a community for many AA viewers to discuss their identity openly and see people who look like them on screen when Hollywood lacked representation. Additionally, many AA teens consume media from Asia itself, such as anime and K-Pop, to connect with their identity. The term Hallyu, or Korean wave, was coined in the 1990s as Korean pop culture rose in popularity throughout Asia and the U.S. This wave has continued through today, as seen through the craze around Korean music, like BTS, and the praise for Korean dramas, like Squid Game. We even see a nod to K-Pop in Turning Red through one of 4*Town’s members, Tae Young. In an interview about the movie, Domee Shi revealed that she was influenced by both American and Korean boy bands growing up, acknowledging that the media often ridicules young girls for being a part of such fandoms. Hence, Turning Red depicts the significant influence of fandom for AA girls’ experiences and is one of the first to do so seriously, without the typical mockery of teen girls.
4*Town was also important in portraying the connection within Mei’s friend group. According to research on teenage fans, participating in fandom culture facilitates teens to establish close communities and friendships around a shared interest for celebrities. We see this phenomenon when 4*Town ties the four friends, Mei, Abby, Priya, and Miriam, together. Contrary to the typical toxic depictions of teenage friendships in television shows and movies, Turning Red provides a positive portrayal of female friendships. Mei, Abby, Priya, and Miriam are able to be themselves around each other and appreciate each other’s quirkiness. This gives audiences a fresh perspective on teenage female friendships and shows the supportive community surrounding fandoms.
Conclusion and Next Steps
Turning Red normalizes puberty (emotions, menstruation, boy-craziness, etc.) and celebrates strong female friendships, while addressing topics like intergenerational trauma and identity formation. Indeed, the film provides AA teen girls with an accurate portrayal of their experiences, but there is still room for improvement in authentic and inclusive AA representation. Future stories can include more diversity in Asian ethnic groups: current representation is overwhelmingly East Asian and lacks South Asian and Southeast Asian experiences. It is also important to consider intersectionality in AA representation, including LGBTQ+ representation, biracial and multicultural identities, and different ages.
Sisi Peng
CSS Fellow
Alexa Mugol
Former CSS Intern
The Marginalized Group Inclusion Spaces Forgot to Include
My family comes from a small, persecuted, indigenous people from the Middle East. We have been refugees for a painfully long time. When my grandfather was a child, he was lined up with his family to see how many people a bullet could go through. His family thankfully got away and fled to the US. My other grandfather experienced segregation here. My father was regularly beaten up as a kid for his marginalized status.
I grew up in a middle-class home, but my parents still gave me the talk that almost every child in my tribe gets — either informally and/or once a year — when the elders share our national story. It goes like this: “In every generation our enemies rise up to destroy us.” I had nightmares throughout my childhood of when that day would come. This is not uncommon for people in my community.
My darker skin was called out throughout my childhood growing up in New Jersey, and I was verbally harassed for my marginalized status. My classmates noticed that I looked “ethnic,” and I was regularly asked what I “was” or if my mother ate too much chocolate when she was pregnant with me. My sisters and aunts have fairer features, but as far as we know, no one in our family ever married outside of our tribe. Systemic violence against our foremothers in past generations was common, but there is a lot of shame around this topic, so it is not often discussed.
In my teen years, I began to derive pride in our homeland and strength from the spiritual practices of our people, which I adopted. In the last year, both of my daughters were called slurs on the street because our traditional clothing gave them away. My community is the most attacked religious minority community in the US right now as well as the most attacked racial group per capita*. On TV and in movies, my tribe is portrayed through a colonialist lens. We are shown as having outdated values and practices that need fixing. Characters from my community only receive praise when someone is “courageous enough” to leave.
I am a Jew.
An Orthodox Jewish woman, to be precise.
Defining the Jewish Experience in Progressive Language
If the plight of Jews was seen in the aforementioned light, we would have been part of DEIA spaces from the very beginning. But Jews are rarely regarded like this. Even though our story of oppression — tracing the violent exile of the Jewish people from Israel by the Romans, including the murder of 1 million and the enslavement of the rest, blood libels, Crusades, expulsions, inquisitions, forced segregation behind ghetto walls, pogroms, and the Holocaust — is completely true. So is the systemic racism against Jews in the US that began with the limitation of voting rights and the ability to hold office in some states, quotas in Ivy League schools, Asiatic immigration restrictions, redlining, segregation in pools, hotels, and beaches, and gatekeeping in professional industries, like law and publishing and some country clubs, that persist to this day.
Instead, Jews are seen as European whites (thank you, Whoopi!), who magically sprouted of out Poland a couple hundred years ago. Too rich, too privileged, too powerful to be a protected class. All of these ideas are antisemitic tropes that are baked into progressive ideology. This needs to change.
Sephardic and Mizrachi Jews are considered brown, but as a Jew whose family was expelled to a land where they eat gefilte fish, I was led to believe that I am white, even though my lived experience has shown me that the world doesn’t view me this way. To be brown, and simultaneously gaslit that you are not brown, is very confusing.
I grew up as a proud Conservative Jew, the only Jewish girl for most of my years in public school, where I was told “Jews killed Jesus” and “Jewish people howl at the moon and pray to the devil.” A double murder/suicide of a classmate and her brother by their father when I was 8 years old pushed me into an existential crisis. After 7 years of off and on insomnia and minor panic attacks, I met an Orthodox Jewish teacher at an after-school Hebrew high. He was nothing like what traditional media had led me to believe he’d be like. He was kind and compassionate, a feminist and wise. I slowly grew in my observance, proudly retaining all of the wonderful parts of my secular identity, but adding wisdom and spirituality to my life. As an Orthodox Jew today, my family and I are identifiably Jewish on the street. I have been victim-shamed, told that we are the ones who choose to wear our yarmulkes and wigs and skirts. If we “only” looked more American and visited our kosher stores, yeshivas, and synagogues less frequently, we could be safe.
For Jews who are secular and white-passing, they are subjected to a purity test that other white-passing marginalized individuals are not. And richness negating marginalized status does not seem to apply to other groups such as Indian Americans, even though they are the wealthiest ethnic group in the US.
Success Does Not Negate Past Trauma and a Sense of Foreboding
Inter-generational trauma is a phenomenon that affects nearly all Jews, no matter how they look or what they practice. So is the foreboding most of us feel towards the future. Many of us have been feeling it more than ever, since Kanye made antisemitic rhetoric mainstream. Jewish baggage is never being able to fully unpack. And the one place we might have to flee to one day, to unpack in, is riddled with complicated politics, when so many of us simply want a place to exhale and to live in peace.
The “talk” that most Jewish parents give their children happens during the Passover seder. For some, it includes being told to always have your passport ready. With the most lethal attacks on Jews in American history occurring in the last five years and with Jews being the most targeted religious group, despite being only 2% of the population, more and more of us are wondering when we may need to dust off those passports.
Next week is Holocaust Remembrance Day, but frankly I’m sick of the Jewish people only being remembered as a group that was murdered often or a people too privileged to need protection. Instead, I want to be known and celebrated for the proud, vibrant, self-actualized Jewish life that I live, which bursts with meaning and joy. But since it’s Holocaust Remembrance Day, I’ll invoke the Nazis who used propaganda to turn the world against Jews. They are a reminder of how damaging media can be for a marginalized group and the responsibility the entertainment world has to prevent and counter-act this.
A History (And Present) of Harmful Media Portrayals
The vilification of Jews throughout Western media started much earlier than the Third Reich. In ancient Egypt, in the third century B.C.E., Jews were accused of being the Hykos people and spreading leprosy. Jews being seen as vectors of disease continued with them being blamed for spreading the Bubonic Plague, the Nazis accused Jews of being lice and spreading tuberculosis, and shockingly, this trope has appeared in modern day traditional media. Blood libels of Jews began in the Middle Ages, when Christians accused them of kidnapping Christian children to bake their blood into matzah. Depictions of Jews as bloodthirsty baby-killers has popped up in communities all over the world and continues to this day. Also in the Middle Ages, a mistranslation of the Old Testament led to Jews being depicted with horns. This trope recently appeared in a Netflix advertising campaign. The Book of Revelations describes the antichrist as having horns and a tail and clubbed feet. With Jews already having horns, this resulted in the portrayal of Jews as all out demons. Starting in the 12th century, Jews became hooked-nose in paintings. The two church councils in 1267 forced Jews to wear pointy hats. Those hats, coupled with the hook-nosed trope, led to Jews becoming the inspiration for witches.
Jon Stewart was right about the goblins in Harry Potter looking Jewish, not because anyone associated with the films is necessarily antisemitic, but rather because little men with big noses counting money is yet another trope that was born out of the Jew-hatred. Take 3 minutes to watch Funny or Die’s animated short on how greedy, big nosed Jews became cartoon villains. The practice of “stage Jew” began in the 1600’s, when non-Jewish actors would dress up in Jewish garb to mock and make fun of Jews. While Sarah Silverman popularized the term “Jewface” to mean non-Jewish actors regularly getting cast in Jewish parts — a topic worthy of discussion in its own right, especially when contemporary movies put large noses on gentile actors to play Jews (see Maestro) — it has an older and even more sinister origin.
Jewface was done in vaudeville-style minstrels, both in Eastern Europe and the US, starting in the 1800s. Sometimes it was secular Jews mocking their religious brethren. Other times, antisemitic regimes, like the Bolsheviks, manipulated secular Jews with the promise of self-preservation to throw religious Jews under the bus. (Tragically, the Bolsheviks ended up killing those Jews too.) Nazis also employed Jewface in their 1940 propaganda film “The Eternal Jew.” Jewface persists in Hollywood today, often perpetrated by fellow Jews (see our mini documentary “Hollywood’s Orthodox Jew Problem”), even though this practice is thankfully verboten for other marginalized communities.
On that note, let’s dig into the trope that Jews run Hollywood. Jews don’t run Hollywood, but they founded it because more prestigious industries shut them out due to antisemitism. The Hollywood founders hid their Jewishness, assimilated and relied on self-deprecation to survive. Sadly, many of today’s Jews in Hollywood seem to have internalized so much Jew hatred that the depictions we often see are caricatures who are not fully human and are often insufferable. Non-Jewish writers and producers are also guilty of embedding these tropes into storylines. A CSA member recently told me that Jewish actors usually play down their Jewishness, lest it negatively impact their career. In an age when every other marginalized group is proudly leading into their identity, when will the Jews be ready for this too??
Reshaping Jewish Identities in Hollywood
What if Jews on screen could be more often portrayed as endearing individuals, with shared struggles and shared joy? While the viewer may never get to know someone from this background in real life, the screen can be a conduit to building a relationship of admiration and respect. That’s why my organization launched the first and only Hollywood Bureau for Jews last year. No one had done it before, because no one was ready to lay this out like we are. And if you’re wondering why a small nonprofit that no one ever heard of had the chutzpah to take on Hollywood, there is nothing more Jewish than being a little guy, who doesn’t know his place. Or in my case, a little woman.
Fortunately, my inspiration to be courageous comes from looking at Jewish heroines from my tradition, like Queen Esther of Purim fame (movie idea, people!), instead of taking cues from the meek and voiceless Orthodox Jewish women Hollywood depicts.
Already, we are commissioning an in-depth character analysis and impact study with a leading academic entertainment group, to explore bias in media and the negative ways inaccurate depictions of Jews shape viewers’ opinions. We’re about to have a panel at Sundance on problematic Jewish representation in Hollywood (the first of its kind) and attended the Television Academy Inclusion Summit in November. We have met with all the major studios and are creating materials with the Think Tank for Inclusion and Equity (TTIE) to train showrunners. In time, we hope to place consultants and proud and knowledgeable Jewish writers into writers’ rooms so that we can prevent harmful tropes and silly caricatures of the secular nebbish Jew, the evil, extremist Hasid, or the only-white Jew. Characters like these increase judgement, derision and hate.
#Neveragain is feeling closer than ever, but meaningful changes in the entertainment industry could stem the tide. We will usher in a new generation of Jews who are ready to lean into our heritage and demand proud and authentic representation. Perhaps when we Jews see our heroes on the screen, we’ll be overcome with self-love, and then the world will follow.
*Annual rates of hate crimes against Jewish people and Black people in the US are nearly the same number despite the Black population being almost ten times larger.
Disclaimer: The views, thoughts, and opinions expressed in this blog belong solely to the author, and do not necessarily reflect the views of the Center for Scholars & Storytellers.
Authentic Diversity in Movies Wins at the Box Office and with Kids
New research reinforces the value of authentic representation in film.
This post originally appeared on Common Sense on May 31, 2022.
Turns out that having diverse representations in our movies—real, authentic portrayals of people from a variety of backgrounds—is good for kids and the filmmaking industry. Recent research shows that films with more diverse casts are out-earning movies with less diversity. More diverse representations are also good for kids' emotional development and well-being.
Here's what the latest research reveals about where we're making progress with diversity in film, where we are not, and how the film industry's actions when it comes to more diversity and high-quality representation in movies impacts kids and families.
Films with more diverse casts drive higher movie ticket sales and revenue
The recently released Hollywood Diversity Report 2022: Part I was the ninth in a series of studies conducted by the Division of Social Sciences at UCLA. The study showed positive progress on diverse representation in film. In 2020, representation of people of color in front of the camera was proportional to the population for the first time—and this held true in 2021 as well, at 38.9% among film leads and 43.1 % for total actors in films.
Plus, bringing more diverse casts to the screen translated to financial results. The same report revealed that in 2021, films with casts that were 21% to 30% people of color enjoyed the highest median global box office receipts, while films with casts that were less than 11% people of color were the lowest performers, continuing a trend seen in the past four years.
Today's audiences seek out nuanced, high-quality portrayals of diverse characters
Films that scored higher on a measure of "authentically inclusive representation" (AIR) did better at the box office and received more acclaim from critics and audience members. The AIR 2.0: Driving Box Office Performance Through Authentically Inclusive Storytelling report from the UCLA Center for Scholars and Storytellers, Creative Artists Agency, and the Full Story Initiative found that large-budget films in 2021 performed better when they had more authentic representation. For every point increase in a film's AIR score, box office earnings increased by $18.8 million. High AIR films also scored 6% higher on Rotten Tomatoes audience scores and 22% higher on critics' scores.
The AIR 2.0 report's evaluation considered several factors. First, it looked at whether people from diverse backgrounds were on screen and behind the scenes, and if diversity was present, whether characters and stories genuinely reflected the cultures being portrayed instead of relying on stereotypes. Researchers also examined to what extent a film's representation increased the complexity of a general audience's understanding of that cultural group.
The influence and preferences of diverse audiences are driving these findings. The Hollywood Diversity Report 2022 also found that people of color accounted for the majority of domestic ticket sales for six of the top 10 films in 2021. Households of color accounted for a disproportionate share of the households viewing each of the top 10 films released on streaming platforms. And Black households gave their highest ratings to streaming films with greater than 50% minority cast share while White households gave films that were 21-30% minority their highest ratings.
Families prefer more diverse representation in films. Our own report, The Inclusion Imperative: Why Media Representation Matters for Kids' Ethnic-Racial Development, revealed that all parents prefer more diversity in the programming their kids watch.
The trend toward greater diversity in films is healthy for kids
More authentic diversity in media is a positive trend for kids' racial development. Ethnic-racial development starts early. Patterns suggest that even babies receive, notice, and organize information relevant to ethnicity-race. Over time, the portrayals a kid sees in the media can inform their sense of identity and where they fit in the world.
Among young people of color, watching favorable and authentic depictions of their own ethnic-racial group can have a positive impact on self-perceptions and views about their ethnic-racial group. In contrast, studies examining how media use influences Black children and adolescents have found that exposure to stereotypical media representations was related to lower self-esteem, satisfaction with one's appearance, confidence in one's own ability, feelings about their ethnic-racial group, and academic performance.
According to our study, Asian, Black, and Hispanic/Latino parents are much more likely to feel that the representation of their own ethnic-racial group in media is stereotypical than White parents do.
What makes a high-quality portrayal? Research informs how we rate diverse representation in media. My colleague Li Lai, senior director of content at Common Sense Media, puts it like this: "When we rate diverse representation in a film or show, we are looking for three-dimensional, whole characters who are more than their racial identity, gender expression, or sexual orientation. Even positive traits can be perceived as stereotypes. It's more helpful for kids to see multidimensional characters."
More diversity in front of and behind the camera will lead to more authentically inclusive portrayals
Encouragingly, roughly four out of five lead actors in 2021 were people of color. The Hollywood Diversity Report 2022 states that Black actors were 15.5% of film leads in 2021, just above proportional level (13.4%). Multiracial lead actors were proportional as well, at 10.3%. Yet the numbers for Hispanic/Latino, Asian, Native American, and Middle Eastern and North African leads were still underrepresentative in 2021 compared to their percentage in the general population.
When it comes to those behind the camera, representation has been much slower to shift, as reflected by the fact that writers and directors are still predominantly White males. The same report shows that only 30.2% of film directors and 32.3% of film writers were people of color.
The question of who's in control behind the camera can affect how authentically the characters are drawn in the script, who lands the audition, and how sensitively the characters are presented in the screenplay.
More diversity across the board is the only way to ensure films are more realistic and equitable in their representation. Given that the payoff is there for kids and for the business, we expect to see more movement toward diversity and authentic representation in all arenas of movie development and production. We look to the entertainment industry to continue to track progress and work to accelerate this trend.
It's not only good for the bottom line, it's important for the healthy development of kids.
Michael Robb
Senior Director of Research, Common Sense Media
Reckoning with Race in Adolescent Stories
Diversity and inclusion in film and television contributes to young people of color’s identity formation in positive ways when they avoid stereotyping.
This year ABC rebooted the classic 1990s series The Wonder Years, a show we discussed in our previous blog as a portal for talking about middle school and early adolescence. The time period of the late 1960s remains the same and the two series share many of the same coming-of-age themes, but there is one big difference. Instead of focusing on a middle-class white family in California, the family at the center of the reboot is a middle-class Black family living in Alabama.
Changing the race of a character or the cast of a show or film, or racebending, has a long history in America. While it has often been a tool of discrimination and whitewashing, it’s been used more recently to increase representation of people of color and disrupt established narratives. The Wonder Years reboot does the latter.
Research has consistently shown how important it is that children and young people see characters who not only look like them but also sound like them. Diversity and inclusion in film and television contributes to young people of color’s identity formation in positive ways when they avoid stereotyping (and the same can be said for LGBTQ+ youth). The new Wonder Years joins shows like Reservation Dogs and On My Block in mixing coming-of-age comedy with the drama of growing up in a society plagued by discrimination and structural racism.
Based on an early viewing, the reboot accurately depicts the universals of early adolescence - not just its awkwardness and heartbreaks, but also the ways in which young people explore their identities, make discoveries about themselves and the world around them, and benefit from the support of caring adults. It has to tread the fine line between overgeneralization and authentic portrayal of the experience of Black families in the South in the late ‘60s. In the original series, Kevin getting pulled over and ticketed is an annoyance. In the reboot, Dean gets the “police talk” from his parents well before he can even drive.
These shows have a delicate balance to strike. We know that all portrayals of adolescence better serve development when they address this stage of life not just as one to survive - filled with heightened risk - but also as a unique opportunity to build lifelong resilience and agency. That’s why narratives that effectively tackle race and equity in adolescence are ones that not only present adversity in believable ways, but also authentically show characters growing in resilience by navigating through it.
Here are a few recommendations, informed by our research, to support that approach.
Portray racism as embedded in everyday institutions, not just through transient interpersonal interactions. Highlighting how our institutions and social norms maintain racial inequality, limit opportunities, and create unequal access for people of color helps audiences to see their own roles in perpetuating these norms—and how it harms adolescents. For instance, in the fourth season of The Wire, the show portrayed to wide acclaim, an accurate view of Baltimore Schools: dysfunction, waste and mismanagement, a dearth of resources. The viewer absorbed the ways in which adolescents in such a large, underfunded school system struggle with navigating education and social pressures without the safety nets provided by more advantaged districts.
Use storylines that connect young people to their communities in positive ways. When adolescents are connected to their communities, both adolescents and communities thrive. Centering young people’s stories in the communities that shape them also makes for compelling narratives. The success of Hulu’s Reservation Dogs comes in part from its showing how the characters’ lives and outlooks are shaped by their experiences living in a reservation community. The characters and conditions that surround the four main adolescent characters are often played for laughs, but they also help make the story more meaningful.
Tell stories of resilience and agency, not just adversity. Authentic depictions of adolescents of color cannot ignore the challenges of growing up in a racist society. But depictions of some young people, particularly young Black men, being “lost” reinforces harmful stereotypes and can have a negative effect on identity formation. Stories that show young people not only confronting but also tackling oppressive, racist systems - not just racist individuals - makes for engaging storylines and shows audiences how structural racism works (see The Hate U Give).
Freelancer
More Than an Afterthought: Authentically Representing Intersectionality in Media
HIGHLIGHTS
• It is important to not think of intersectionality as simply adding up multiple identities that have no influence on one another.
• Without taking intersectionality into account, progressive ideas and movements lack substance.
• When creating a character, list out the intersectional elements of their identity and consider how to work these into all aspects of their characterization on-screen.
In college, I was briefly part of an organization that advocated for gender-oppressed people’s rights on campus. The group had themed weeks, like Sex Education Week and Period Awareness Week. The last theme of the semester was Intersectionality Week.
As a woman of color, I laughed. Intersectionality is not something I could wait weeks to live out. It’s my daily life. But too often, I find that advocacy groups and well-meaning people who are trying to support movements do the same thing. Intersectionality consistently shows up as an afterthought when it really should be a part of their mindset from the beginning, given that most movements have been started by the most marginalized people.
Intersectionality refers to the way that different identity markers, such as race, gender, sexuality, and class, interact and affect each other. These “intersections” produce experiences that are distinct to those who have the intersectional identity. Kimberle Crenshaw, the legal scholar who coined the term, wrote about Black women’s experiences in the workplace, saying that “the intersectional experience is greater than the sum of racism and sexism.” Crenshaw analyzed the way that the legal system separated Black women’s identities into “Black” and “woman,” but refused to account for how those two characteristics would overlap in a way that is unique to Black women.
Intersectionality is often treated like an addition problem. Women of color experience oppression because they are women + because they are people of color. A queer woman of color would experience homophobia + misogyny + racism. However, this goes against the foundation of what intersectionality is.
While it may seem like the Addition Problem Approach is a sincere attempt at understanding oppression, it can actually center privileged people instead. This is because there cannot be a universal experience of homophobia added to a universal experience of misogyny added to a universal experience of racism. Each one of these forms of oppression is influenced by the other, and the result is not an overlap of different shades of discrimination, but its own entity.
Too often, when we think about sexism, what we’re actually thinking about is the sexism that white, cis women face. When we talk about homophobia, we’re actually referring to white queer people’s struggles. When discussing racism, we generally think of the ways that it affects men of color. These associations are problematic because we believe that we can then understand intersectional identities and issues, but we’re just adding variables that never fit the equation in the first place.
The Addition Problem Approach has been used to explain intersectionality to people who have never heard about it before, but it cannot be the tool that we use when trying to actively work towards inclusion. Rather, there needs to be a consistent and active focus on intersectionality.
Let’s talk about what that might look like. In the context of gender, the starting point of a conversation cannot be an assumption that everyone understands femininity to be the same thing. A lot of conversation surrounding feminism and gender identity seems to push back against the idea of women being feminine. However, it’s important to understand that our society’s “default” ideas of gender are intertwined with whiteness, and so anyone who isn’t white will have a different interaction with the construct.
For instance, Black women are often hypermasculinized, meaning that their femininity is not just doubted, but rejected. The way that non-Black people enforce gender on Black people has roots in slavery, where the destruction of people’s identities was essential to their dehumanization and enslavement. Hortense Spillers, a Black feminist scholar, famously delves into the relationship between gender in Black communities and slavery in “Mama’s Baby, Papa’s Maybe: An American Grammar Book.”
In media, there are patterns of Black women being portrayed as masculine. Consider the way that media outlets have talked about Serena Williams and Michelle Obama. In movies and television, similar patterns appear. This may manifest as casting a Black woman or girl in minor roles where she is only a prop for a white main character’s development, she is never thought of as a love interest, or her romantic life is a joke to other characters and the audience. In Pitch Perfect, Cynthia-Rose’s sexuality and romantic relationships are made fun of constantly, and the jokes about her make up nearly her entire character. In Sex and the City, Jennifer Hudson’s character, Louise, is more of a pitied character than a fully realized one.
Given the context of Black history, how would shunning femininity be the solution to misogyny? Of course, there are many Black people who don’t want to be feminine. But the point is that society’s current approach to gender is steeped in anti-Blackness and racism, and mainstream feminism’s idea of rejecting femininity as a form of freedom only works for a few people. If we don’t think about the way people with intersectional identities experience gender, then it’s just another case of supporting a kind of activism that doesn’t actually help people who are being hurt.
Conversely, East Asian women are hyperfeminized, and consistently characterized as submissive and only useful for sexual gratification. Examples include characters in Miss Saigon or Memoirs of a Geisha. While femininity is something that East Asian women are given access to, the interaction between race and gender is something that is marred with force and harm.
As a South Asian woman, I know people who look like me are either fetishized and seen as some exotic, sexual toy, or are ridiculed and thought to be sexless. One example that is branded in my mind is an early scene in How I Met Your Mother, a show that dominated my early teenage years. The men of the main cast are sitting in a taxi with Ranjit, a driver who reappears multiple times throughout the series. They ask him where he’s from, and he replies, “Bangladesh.” When Ted, Marshall, and Barney follow up by asking, “Are the women in your country beautiful?”, Ranjit shows them a picture of his wife. The protagonists respond by looking at each other and choking out, “He could have just said no.” This one scene is the only time I have ever heard an American show mention the name of the country that half of my family is from. It made my stomach drop, and as a tween watching the show, immediately convinced me that I would always be laughed at, always thought of as ugly. These aren’t just instances of racism; it is discrimination that works specifically because of intersectionality.
All of these examples demonstrate that the goal of blindly destroying masculinity and femininity as constructs is narrow-minded. The separate associations of femininity to domesticity and sexualization or masculinity with apathy, violence, and machismo undermine the layers of institutional oppression that people of color experience. To be clear, breaking down gender norms and the gender binary is key. However, doing so without actively centering histories of enslavement, genocide, and imperialism is not only irresponsible but harmful.
Problematic representation can also appear indirectly. Netflix's Moxie aims to tell a story about students engaging with feminism, but is ultimately a white feminist portrayal of social justice. Though historically, advocacy movements have consistently been started and led by Black women, Moxie places Black women and other characters of color to the side and characterizes white women as rebels. This not only ignores Black women's prominence in activism, but also paints over the suppression that intersectional people have faced in building advocacy groups.
I’ve given a few examples of the way race and gender intersect. There are thousands of layers within each category, and I haven’t even talked about intersections that involve socioeconomic status, religion, sexuality, neurodivergence, or disability. Intersectionality is not simple. It cannot be something that content creators and writers think about at the end of a project.
Instead, intersectional identities and histories need to be the mission from the beginning. Privileged people need to work more on understanding their roles in creating and contributing to discriminatory systems rather than assuming they know how to talk about or even create content portraying progress. Intersectionality is deeply complex, but it merits prioritization and continuing efforts to educate oneself.
For example, Pose offers insight into the way that the lives of trans women of color are also completely shaped by gender and race in ways that are different from cis women of color. Again, trans women of color often have to fight for femininity. Pose starts with intersectionality, rather than tacking it onto the end. While the show had limited representation of dark-skinned Black trans women, it provides a look into what mindful content creation looks like. Other examples of works that have prioritized intersectionality include Grown-ish, One Day at a Time, Grey’s Anatomy, Moonlight, and Girls’ Trip. While these works vary wildly in genre and tone, all of them include plotlines that are influenced by characters’ identities without identity markers making up the entirety of the characters.
This work extends beyond who’s in front of the camera. In addition to content creators and writers needing to research and learn about their characters’ identities, it is essential that there be diverse representation throughout a film or television show’s development, production, and distribution. For instance, the iCarly reboot has not only cast multiple Black characters, but has also hired Black hairstylists like Cora Diggins. The result has been stunning hairstyles for the characters in the show, as well as an outpouring of praise and support for the show’s decisions. Intersectionality was not just an afterthought here, but clearly something that was carefully considered throughout the process.
Ultimately, intersectionality is key. Without taking intersectionality into account, progressive ideas and movements lack substance. Progress doesn’t begin until intersectionality shows up, so it is critical to consider where in the work the subject is brought in. Shows and movies that attempt to lift up marginalized communities without thinking about intersectionality are only perpetuating different systems of prejudice and oppression. While it may feel daunting or overwhelming to think about the countless identity markers that people and characters have, there is beauty in investigating. Intersectionality isn’t an invisible or elusive concept: there are people with intersectional identities everywhere who live rich and deeply complex lives.
Actionable Insights
Prioritize telling stories with leading characters that have intersectional underrepresented identities.
When creating a character, list out the intersectional elements of their identity and consider how to work these into all aspects of their characterization on-screen.
Think about characters with multiple marginalized identities, and tell stories that do not consist solely of their struggles with those identities.
When telling stories of characters with intersectional identities, hire cast and crew members who can draw from their own intersectional identities to positively influence the authenticity of the overall storytelling.
When telling stories that aren’t “part of the real world,” like fantasy or science-fiction works, ensure that intersectional identities are represented without writing marginalization into their characters (i.e., make sure the characters are not just representations of their real-world oppression).
5 Content Creators to Listen To:
@kennathevampireslayer (TikTok)
@daejahtalkstv (TikTok & YouTube)
@crutches_and_spice (TikTok)
Khadija Mbowe (YouTube)
@thecounsciouskid (Instagram)
Jasmine Baten
Master’s student in Media and Communications, American University
Disclaimer: The views, thoughts, and opinions expressed in this blog belong solely to the author, and do not necessarily reflect the views of the Center for Scholars & Storytellers.
The Unbearable Invisibility of Being MENA in the Media
Growing up in Hawaii, despite its beautiful, multicultural communities, there was rarely a person around me that was Middle Eastern North African (MENA). My Iranian immigrant family practically took off sprinting after anyone if we heard even an inkling of Farsi spoken, just so that we could say hello. It was that rare and that coveted.
Decades later, those same combined, complicated feelings of yearning, heartache, and gratitude still wash over me when I find any media representation whatsoever that positively represents Persian culture. That’s why I was immediately diverted from my piled-up to-do list when I came across an Instagram video post of Britney Spears saying “Asheghetam” (“I love you” in Farsi) to Sam Asghari, her long-time boyfriend and now fiancé, who happens to be Iranian-American.
In fact, representation of Iranians, or anyone with MENA heritage has historically fallen short in Hollywood. Portrayals are often limited to painfully stereotyped characters which Meighan Stone, Former President of the Malala Fund, described as “negative, violent, and voiceless” in her report for the Harvard Kennedy School. In fact, her study of a 2-year period, between 2015-2017, found that there was not a single news story that highlighted positive coverage over negative coverage of Muslim protagonists.
Similarly, Jack Shaheen’s book Reel Bad Arabs: How Hollywood Vilifies a People analyzed 1,000 films across more than 100 years of filmmaking (from 1896-2000) and found that a whopping 93.5% offered negative portrayals, while 5% were neutral and a sad minority of only 1% were positive. A recent study by the MENA Arts Advocacy Coalition found that 242 primetime, first-run scripted TV and streaming shows between 2015-2016 underrepresented MENA actors. When including MENA characters in primetime TV shows, a majority (78%) depicted roles of terrorists, tyrants, agents, or soldiers, most of which were spoken with an accent.
MENA actors who break through MENA stereotypes are often still hidden and invisible in terms of their MENA identity. Among those with Iranian-American heritage: Yara Shahidi, Sarah Shahi (birth name Aahoo Jahansouzshahi), Adrian Pasdar, and others whose roles are often portrayed as a character with another non-MENA ethnic background (which sometimes coincides accurately with their own mixed heritage, but does not reflect their MENA side), such as Black, Latinx or Italian American.
Not enough has improved, but there are inklings of potential progress. Although the intriguing plan to launch a comedy about a Middle Eastern family of superheroes has yet to bear out, the TBS sitcom Chad made it on air after five years in development. Chad is about a teenage boy named Ferydoon “Chad” Amani, a 14-year-old Iranian-American played by Nasim Pedrad of Saturday Night Live.
In an interview with the Hollywood Reporter, Nasim Pedrad sums up how her personal experience motivated her vision for the show:
“When I was growing up, I did not see a half-hour comedy centered around, you know, a Middle Eastern family let alone specifically, a Persian one. In fact, so much of the representation of Middle Easterners on TV that I did see was predominantly negative, which was very alienating. I didn’t see Persian people on TV that seemed anything like the Persian people that I was surrounded by, not just in my family, but in my community. I didn’t understand. I was like, ‘Why are Middle Eastern people on American television only bad guys?’ Like what about those of us living here that are just like the rest of you, except for the specific cultural elements that we still celebrate and hold onto. So my hope is that people watch the show and actually can recognize that yes, this family is Persian American, but hopefully they can tap into just how many similarities we all have and how much we all have in common.”
Psychologists and other scholars substantiate the importance of representation. The failure to move past stereotyped, negative roles for a majority of MENA characters is deeply harmful. It contributes to what my colleagues and I described as a cumulative racial-ethnic trauma for MENA Americans, in an article published in the American Psychologist. MENA Americans live with chronic and pervasive experiences of hypervisibility related to negative portrayals, and utter invisibility when it comes to featuring the positive, or even just the normal. These chronic subtle, and sometimes overt, messages of hate build up, contributing to insecurity, alienation, hopelessness, and ultimately, physical health and mortality.
In contrast, the potential benefits of media portrayals that affirm the ways in which MENA and other diverse communities are interconnected, loving, and share common values, hopes, and dreams, matter to children’s mental health and well-being. They matter to creating a society that has compassion, empathy, and embraces the many strengths that diversity brings.
Actionable Insights
Do your homework. Watch and read authentic stories. Examples in the media are when Anthony Bourdain visited Iran on Parts Unknown, or when Brandon Stanton took his camera to Iran and other countries allowing his loyal HONY following to connect with the universality of human struggles and triumphs across borders.
Represent rich complexity, identities, and varieties. Feature MENA characters in television and film with non-stereotyped characteristics and roles. Pay attention to details such as accents, religious beliefs, immigrant generation, sexuality, and gender roles that perpetuate negative stereotypes, are often inaccurate, and do not represent the diversity within the MENA community.
Involve insiders. Involve MENA Americans in content creation to ensure authenticity of stories and characters. CSS Collaborator, Sascha Paladino, and his team offer a lovely model of inclusion and authenticity in Mira, Royal Detective, a Disney Junior show featuring a South Asian protagonist.
Amplify capable, compelling, desirable representations. Amplify MENA stories that represent the many societal contributions MENA Americans make. Oftentimes, when someone with a MENA heritage does something well, their race/ethnicity is suddenly invisible from the story, and may not even be reported.
Increase the sheer number of characters. Increase the MENA American characters in children’s programming. At only about 1%, there’s no place to go but up.
Be accurate about identities. Accurately and authentically depict MENA actors as MENA (or, when relevant to their actual background and not creating conflict with the storyline, upholding their mixed heritage) characters. Likewise, such as in the case of Prince of Persia, or Dune, when characters are supposed have MENA heritage, hire MENA actors.
Professor at the University of California, Santa Barbara
Collaborator of CSS
‘In the Heights’ celebrates the resilience Washington Heights has used to fight the COVID-19 pandemic
This article originally appeared on The Conversation on June 11, 2021
With camera work that swoops from rooftops to street corners, the film “In the Heights” brings to life the dynamism of northern Manhattan’s Washington Heights neighborhood.
Directed by Jon M. Chu, “In the Heights” updates Lin-Manuel Miranda and Quiara Alegría Hudes’ Tony Award-winning musical of the same name. Set in a changing neighborhood defined by Dominicans and Latino immigrants, the film eloquently expresses the feel of a hardworking place where your block is your home and a 10-minute walk is a journey to another world.
For me, the film hit home. It brought me back to the years I spent researching and writing my book “Crossing Broadway: Washington Heights and the Promise of New York City,” when I interviewed residents, walked police patrols and dug into municipal records.
In Washington Heights, long home to a mosaic of ethnic groups, some people have recoiled from human differences and huddled up in tight but exclusionary enclaves – ignorant of their neighbors at best, nasty toward them at worst.
Other residents, street-smart cosmopolitans, learned to cross racial and ethnic boundaries to save their neighborhood from crime, decayed housing and inadequate schools. In the 1990s, their efforts turned Washington Heights, once known for a murderous drug trade, into a gentrification hot spot.
My book was released in paperback during the fall of 2019. Just five months later, COVID-19 came.
Could a neighborhood already grappling with the challenges of gentrification – a prominent theme of “In the Heights” – survive a global health disaster? And could a film conceived before COVID-19 emerged speak to a city that sometimes seems to be transformed by the pandemic?
So far – and even though Washington Heights stands out in Manhattan for its suffering due to the coronavirus pandemic – the answer is a cautious yes.
But that painful victory, won with vaccines, local institutions and local ingenuity, will be valuable only if enough can be learned from northern Manhattan’s solidarity and activism to build a healthier and more just city as the pandemic recedes.
A neighborhood rife with vulnerabilities
Like other immigrant neighborhoods confronting the pandemic, Washington Heights and Inwood – the neighborhood to its immediate north – faced serious vulnerabilities.
Immigrant labor and business acumen rescued New York City from the urban crisis in the 1970s and 1980s, when white flight, job losses, a withering tax base and high crime devastated the city.
But as my co-author David M. Reimers and I pointed out in “All the Nations Under Heaven: Immigrants, Migrants and the Making of New York,” the rebuilt city is marked by inequality. Rents are astronomic, so families in Washington Heights and Inwood often double up to make costs more bearable. In the face of an easily transmitted disease, overcrowded housing was a ticking bomb.
Residents in these uptown neighborhoods were also endangered by their jobs. In a city where many white-collar workers could work from home on their laptops, a disproportionate number of Washington Heights residents had to venture out to staff stores, clean buildings, deliver groceries and provide health and child care. As one uptown resident told me, her neighbors weren’t worrying about gaining 15 pounds – they were worried whether their next customer would infect them.
Equally troubling, many uptown residents had nowhere to run to. In more affluent neighborhoods, like the Upper East Side where I live, many people with country houses could decamp. In Washington Heights and Inwood, most people hunkered down in their apartments.
Bonds forged in mutual struggle
Nevertheless, Washington Heights and Inwood have strengths born in the hard experience of making a new home in New York.
The neighborhood has long been the destination of newcomers to the city, among them African Americans escaping Jim Crow, Irish immigrants putting behind them political and economic hardship, Puerto Ricans looking for prosperity, Eastern European Jews in flight from pogroms, German Jewish refugees from Nazism and Greeks expelled from Istanbul. In the 1970s, Dominicans fleeing political repression and economic hardship began to arrive in transforming numbers, along with a small but significant number of Soviet Jews escaping anti-Semitism.
For all their differences the German Jews, Soviet Jews and Dominicans had one thing in common: individual and collective memories of living with three brutal dictators – Hitler, Stalin and Rafael Trujillo. Such experiences were traumatic and could foster a tendency to stick to the safety of your own kind, but they also bred resilience.
Starting in the 1970s, and with cumulative impact by the late 1990s, significant numbers of these residents crossed racial and ethnic boundaries to revive and strengthen their neighborhood.
Thirty years later, when federal authority was absent and the pandemic surged, public-spirited residents – fortified by community institutions – stepped up again. In both cases, it was a clear example of what the sociologist Robert J. Sampson has called “collective efficacy.”
The community steps up
Back when the neighborhood was ravaged by the crack epidemic, Dave Crenshaw, the son of African American political activists, took action. Crenshaw set up athletic activities with the Uptown Dreamers – a youth group that combined sports, community service and educational uplift. The program gave young people, especially women, an alternative to dangerous streets.
When the COVID-19 pandemic erupted, Crenshaw built on his track record. He worked with The Community League of the Heights, a community development organization founded in 1952, Word Up, a community bookshop and arts space dating to 2011, and students from Columbia University’s Mailman School of Public Health. Together, they distributed food and masks, cleaned up grubby street corners, and got people tested and vaccinated.
Further north, the YM-YWHA of Washington Heights and Inwood, founded in 1917, built on its record of serving both Jews and the entire community. Victoria Neznansky – a social worker from the former Soviet Union – worked with her staff to help traumatized families, distribute money to people in need, and bring together two restaurants – one kosher and one Dominican – to feed homebound neighborhood residents.
At Uplift NYC, an uptown nonprofit with strong local roots, Domingo Estevez and Lucas Almonte had anticipated, during the summer of 2020, running summer programs that included a tech camp, basketball and a youth hackathon. When the pandemic struck, they nimbly shifted to providing culturally familiar foods – like plantains, chickens and Cafe Bustelo coffee – to neighbors in need and people who couldn’t go outside.
Arts and media organizations eased the isolation of lockdown. When the pandemic loomed, blogger Led Black, at the local website the Uptown Collective, told readers that “solidarity is the only way forward.” In his posts he shared his griefs and vented his rage at President Donald Trump. He closed every column with “Pa’Lante Siempre Pa’Lante!” or “Forward, Always Forward!”
Inwood Art Works, which promotes local artists and the arts, shut down a film festival scheduled for March 2020 and started “Short Film Fridays,” a weekly presentation of local films on YouTube. The organization also launched the “New York City Quarantine Film Festival,” which explored topics such as life uptown in the COVID-19 pandemic, the beauty of uptown parks and the life of an essential worker.
Dreams of a better life
Of course, Washington Heights suffered during the pandemic.
Beloved local businesses vanished. Foremost among them was Coogan’s, a bar and restaurant that was the unofficial town hall of upper Manhattan, whose life and death were chronicled in the documentary “Coogan’s Way,” which is now screening at film festivals.
Families were forced to live with unemployment, isolation and fear of infection. As the social fabric frayed, loud noise levels and reckless driving of motorcycles and all-terrain vehicles raised alarm. Worst of all, the neighborhood’s residents died at rates greater than in Manhattan overall.
In Washington Heights and the rest of New York City, the coronavirus pandemic exposed long-brewing inequalities. It also illuminated character, community, strong local institutions and dreams of a better life. All these receive loving and lyrical attention in “In the Heights.”
We live, I believe, in an era when it is important to see the strengths that immigrants and their institutions bring to our cities. This film could not have come at a better time.
Professor Emeritus of Journalism and American Studies, Rutgers University - Newark
This article originally appeared on The Conversation
Does Hollywood Need Guns?
Guns have been an iconic prop of Hollywood storytelling since the early days of the industry. The genre of gangster movies of the 1930s could not have existed without guns, and the same for the popular TV Westerns of the 1950s. What made those stories engaging was the melding of guns with narratives that were true to their genre. Gangsters need guns just as much as the inhabitants of the Wild West. But in today’s world, the proliferation of guns is creating a crisis of major proportions. The ease with which Americans can obtain assault-style guns is turning our cities into the wild west once glorified in the Westerns of the 1950’s.
While it is difficult to disentangle the role that Hollywood storytelling has on the growth of gun use in the U.S., there is no doubt that gun use has proliferated in popular movies and TV shows, especially in crime-related genres. In our research over the past decade at the University of Pennsylvania’s Annenberg Public Policy Center, we have documented the rise in gun portrayal in popular PG-13 movies and TV-14 television shows. We have also shown that the use of guns in popular screen narratives is seen as acceptable by parents of children ages 15 and older when the guns are used for justified reasons. These include defending oneself or friends and family from others who pose a threat. When Bruce Willis in the Die Hard franchise shoots the bad guys even indiscriminately, he is seen as a hero worthy of emulation.
These attitudes are also observable in young viewers of these kinds of violent entertainment. In a study we conducted with late adolescents, ages 18 to 22, we found that viewing movie clips of justified gun violence was tracked by areas of the brain typically associated with approval. But when the gun violence was seen as unjustified, young people’s brains displayed a pattern more in keeping with disapproval.
We think these findings point to problems with Hollywood’s glorification of guns. Unlike other consumer products, guns are not advertised to the general public on major forms of media. You will not see an ad for a gun on TV or in popular magazines. The gun industry doesn’t need those sources of marketing when it can rely on Hollywood to feature guns as a justified form of self-defense. Not only does Hollywood promote guns, but it also increases fears of crime when it shows the need for guns as a form of protection.
We know that such portrayals are more likely to influence young viewers who are learning about the world through screen media. Research conducted in the 2000s found that adolescents who viewed a lot of films that featured smoking were more likely to initiate smoking. We do not have similar research on guns. But we have looked at changes in gun use in popular TV shows from 2000 to 2018 and found that as the proportion of gun use in violent scenes increased over that time, the proportion of homicides committed with guns also increased, especially for young people ages 15 to 24.
The film industry responded to concerns about featuring smoking in movies by reducing the use of unnecessary use of cigarettes, especially in PG-13 movies that do not restrict viewing. Why can’t the industry do the same for guns? In other words, do we really need to rely on guns to make violent stories appealing? Can’t Hollywood tell compelling stories about crime without overdoing the use of guns?
Dan Romer
Research Director, Annenberg Public Policy Center of the University of Pennsylvania
African American teens face mental health crisis but are less likely than whites to get treatment
This article originally appeared on The Conversation.
Black youth in the U.S. experience more illness, poverty, and discrimination than their white counterparts. These issues put them at higher risk for depression and other mental health problems. Yet Black youth are less likely to seek treatment. About 9% of them reported an episode of major depression in the past year, but less than half of those – about 40% – received treatment. By comparison, about 46% of white youth who reported an episode were treated for depressive symptoms.
Instead, some turn to suicide, now the second leading cause of death among Black children ages 10 to 19. That rate is rising faster for them than any other racial or ethnic group. Data from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention show the rate of suicide attempts for Black adolescents rose 73% from 1991 to 2017.
With schools nationwide grappling with how to offer instruction to students, principals and teachers need to be reminded that Black children have endured a distinctive kind of trauma since the pandemic began. They have had a different experience. The shootings of George Floyd and Ahmaud Arbery – and what happened afterwards – are just two examples.
As an expert in child and adolescent psychology, I know that a multitude of barriers keep Black children, and their families, from receiving that treatment. They need help to deal with the pervasive poverty and racism that surrounds them.
The ‘crazy’ label
Studies suggest Black youth and their families may be less likely to identify their own mental health symptoms. If they do receive referrals for care, they may follow up less often than whites. Delays in seeking care can lead to negative consequences, including emergency psychiatric hospitalizations and non-compliance with treatment recommendations. These youngsters may then become adults with mental health issues that remain unaddressed.
Parents and caregivers should encourage treatment. But interviews with them done as part of one study revealed they sometimes obstruct the process. Many feared their child would be labeled “crazy.” Those caregivers, sensitive to social stigma, also relied on others in the community when deciding to pursue treatment for their sons. Sometimes they would receive support from those they spoke with; other times, they would not.
Because of discrimination and abuse, Blacks have good reason to distrust the mental health system. Health care disparities exist there just as they do in other health care domains. Black adolescents are less likely than white teens to be treated with beneficial psychiatric medications, and more likely than white teens to be hospitalized involuntarily. Other reports suggest Black youth with psychiatric disorders are more likely to be referred to the juvenile justice system, while white youth are more often referred for mental health treatment.
That same study found that schools were also pivotal, in both positive and negative ways. Some parents and caregivers said school staff validated their concerns and provided support. Others felt forced to seek services only because they believed their son would be expelled.
Stigmatizing mental illness
Researchers have found that Black adults, exposed to a police killing of an unarmed black citizen through media or word of mouth, had worse mental health. This includes an increased fear of victimization, diminished social trust and a revisiting of prior trauma.
Much the same seems true for Black adolescents. When a group of them aged 11 to 19 viewed traumatic events online – including viral videos of police shootings – they had higher rates of depressive and post-traumatic stress symptoms, including re-experiencing, avoidance, numbing, and hyperarousal. Experts have suggested that police violence be viewed as a public health issue, because each killing impacts individuals and communities both physiologically and emotionally. Each incident reminds Black youth that, in this country, their lives have been devalued.
One might consider the impact from the case of Ahmaud Arbery, a 25-year-old Black man shot to death in Glynn County, Georgia, last February. Three white men are charged in the killing. An attorney for one of them attempted to cast doubt on the character of Arbery, who reportedly had a previously diagnosed mental illness. The lead investigator in the case testified that Arbery suffered from hallucinations, though he was not undergoing treatment on the day of his death.
Hallucinations are actually relatively common in children and adolescents. Up to 13% of youth experience them. If Arbery had hallucinations, it appears they had little bearing on his killing, but those with mental health issues were further stigmatized.
With protests sweeping the nation calling for racial justice and defunding the police, I believe more funding to address disparities in mental health care for Black youth is critical. But merely investing in treatment is not enough. To support them and their families, we as a society must deal with stigma, cultural mistrust, systemic inequities and social supports.
Assistant Professor, Department of Psychiatry and Behavioral Neurosciences, Wayne State University
This article originally appeared on The Conversation
How Activist Audiences Are Changing the TV Industry
This article originally appeared on Shondaland.com
Television, like all other art forms, has gone through various eras over the years. Often the era corresponds with what is happening within the culture, particularly the generations coming of age during that time. We are now in the streaming era of television, the a la carte programming boom that allows users to watch whatever they please, whenever they please. Gen Z, the politically active and outspoken adolescents of today, have different TV habits than previous generations. Even when binge-watching Friends, this group is unafraid to poke holes in the television industry’s framework and call for content that respects their values.
I work with UCLA’s Center for Scholars & Storytellers (CSS), where we harness the power of storytelling to help the next generation thrive and grow. In the lab, we study adolescents to understand their media habits and the effects that media have on young minds. Social media is a fixture of daily life, particularly during the pandemic, and it has become a place for activism and political engagement that allows young people to become informed on causes happening around them.
Gen Z is more racially diverse, educated, and queer than any of our previous generations. This group uses social media to develop their identities and engage with heterogeneous peers that might not be living in their hometowns. As a result, this progressive group has become interested in representation in media and social impact entertainment, seeking diverse and authentic casting and storytelling on- and off-screen. They are vocal about wanting to see themselves and their peers reflected back to them on-screen, carrying the torch from Millennials and Gen X’ers — notably Black women — who spearheaded movements like #TimesUp and #OscarsSoWhite.
“Storytelling thrives when audiences sense the truth and lived experience driving what occurs on-screen.”
In recent years, content has been shifting to be more diverse and inclusive, particularly when looking at adolescent-focused shows. Diverse programming in this space is not new — I grew up with That’s So Raven and True Jackson VP — but these series did not capture the attention of adults. Now, spaces that have been vehicles for complex adult programming such as Netflix and HBO are producing shows that feature adolescent characters that appeal to wider-ranging audiences — and might even prompt parent-child conversations.
Some recent examples are Sex Education, Never Have I Ever, Euphoria, and We Are Who We Are. All of these shows feature people of color prominently in the principal cast and deal with mental health and racial, sexual, and gender identity. HBO Max’s most recent debut Genera+ion, is an intriguing addition, as it was created with significant contributions from a 19-year-old. As a new socially conscious generation comes of age, more change must be on the horizon for the industry, even outside of adolescent-focused programming.
In order for this to happen, entertainment companies have to take a hard look at their hiring practices and slates of content. One company that has been doing this is STARZ. While the global media company serves an adult demographic (with a majority coming from the 18-54 range), their programming captures the attention of some Gen Z viewers in the stage of late adolescence. Through my work with STARZ, I have come to see that their leadership team understands the necessity to make changes within their organization to be more inclusive of underrepresented groups, both in front of and behind the camera. STARZ recently launched the #TakeTheLead initiative, which kicked off in February with a research report that I co-authored, and will continue with a series of monthly “Transparency Talks” throughout the year leading up to an industry-wide summit in the fall focused on representation that STARZ will host.
In late 2020, STARZ asked CSS to assess the diversity within their shows — both in front of and behind the camera — and their leadership team, relative to the rest of the television industry. Our team began by reviewing all of the recently released industry reports analyzing representation in front of and behind the camera to get a sense of the landscape. We chose three reports to illustrate the comparative numbers for the industry: UCLA’s Hollywood Diversity Report 2020, Part 2: Television, the Writer’s Guild of America West (WGAW) Inclusion Report 2020, and Boxed In 2019-20: Women On Screen and Behind the Scenes in Television from San Diego State University (SDSU). We then dove into the numbers for STARZ, focusing on race and gender for their senior leadership, showrunners, executive producers, directors, writers, series leads, and series regulars. In order to provide more accurate comparisons to the industry, we used the criteria from the industry reports to better define the data analyzed for each category. We were encouraged by our findings.
The numbers showed that STARZ exceeded industry hiring practices for people of color by more than 123 percent at the showrunner level and more than 85 percent at the executive producer level. People of color also make up over 53 percent of the writers’ rooms on STARZ’s series and nearly half of all episodic directors. As a result, many of the stories that STARZ is telling — the Power Universe franchise and the upcoming series Run the World and Blindspotting — are refreshingly diverse and representative of communities often ignored by Hollywood.
A standout is the STARZ original P-Valley, which showrunner Katori Hall adapted from her play with an uncensored name, about the inner workings of a strip club in Mississippi, The Pynk. The show received critical and audience acclaim when it launched last summer for its nuanced depictions of the dancers and the southern strip club scene. The secret to the success of P-Valley is how the series puts the spotlight on women of color on-screen and behind the scenes, including in the director’s chair and writers’ room. The show demonstrates that when the people who are telling stories behind the camera truly represent the actors who bring those stories to life, what we gain is a richness often only seen in stories about white men.
Recent research reports from SDSU and UCLA have demonstrated that more diverse representation in leadership roles translates to more diverse representation at every level of production.
In our work at CSS, we analyze Authentically Inclusive Representation (AIR), taking a deeper look into the substance of the storytelling and noting intersectionality, tropes, and stereotypes. We used Mediaversity’s extensive grading system to create a sliding scale to rate where a work ranks relative to the norm of having some — often stereotypical — representation across gender, race, and LGBTQ+ or disability. Films and TV shows score above the norm for AIR much more often when members of underrepresented groups are heavily involved in the storytelling process, as with P-Valley.
What is most important is that executives and content creators work together to make AIR a priority within their shows or risk negatively affecting perceptions of self within audiences of color.
Viewer habits and appetites are changing. Content creators looking to capture the short attention span — about 8 seconds — of Gen Z need to focus on making their stories authentic reflections of the world as this young audience experiences it — diverse, inclusive, and honest.
Demand for this kind of content is also increasing rapidly amongst Millennial and Gen X audiences.
An important first step toward change is to invite underrepresented groups into the rooms where decisions are being made and to give these individuals real decision-making power.
Storytelling thrives when audiences sense the truth and lived experience driving what occurs on-screen. Actors, writers, directors, producers, showrunners, and executives all have a part to play here, and when their voices come together in a positive way, it can shift audience attitudes and promote tolerance. Organizations like CSS can offer guidance on how to make changes to promote more responsible storytelling, but ultimately it is up to the leaders in the entertainment industry to make the decision to start the process.
Program Director, Center for Scholars & Storytellers
Disclaimer: The views, thoughts, and opinions expressed in this blog belong solely to the author, and do not necessarily reflect the views of the Center for Scholars & Storytellers.
What Can Children Learn About Social Justice from Picture Books About Migration?
Many young children encounter refugees and migrants for the first time in the picture books read to them by their parents. But what can they learn from these stories? Amidst growing hostility towards immigrants in both the UK and the US in the Brexit and Trump era, we set to address this question and shed light on the role that these books play as socialization agents in young children’s lives. We selected 40 popular books published in these two countries during 2015-2019 and systematically analyzed their content, following a codebook developed specifically for this study.
We found that the stories are characterized by three dominant narratives. The first centers on the immigrant’s resolve to overcome a range of hardships and difficulties involved in the journey to their new home and the adjustments such a move requires. The second narrative focuses specifically on the migrants’ or refugees’ quest for social acceptance in their new cultural context while concurrently harboring memories of their home country. This tension is expressed through specific cultural markers, such as a Persian carpet in a story of an immigrant from Iraq to Europe, embedding words in Creole in a story of a migrant from Haiti, or employing images of Barbie and Nintendo to signify the US as the host country. The third narrative depicts a happy ending of the journey, better life in the host country, often characterized by a celebration of the protagonist’s realization of the American Dream.
“Half of the books we examined focused on contexts of forced migration, where children flee violence, war, oppression, poverty, and/or famine.”
The construction of the host country as a haven is often achieved by depicting the migrant’s life in the country of origin as extremely difficult, miserable, and dangerous. Half of the books we examined focused on contexts of forced migration, where children flee violence, war, oppression, poverty, and/or famine. In this sense – and similar to other media portrayals of migrations (such as news coverage) – these books introduce children to the dire reality of many of their counterparts around the world, by reinforcing the negative experiences of migration. In turn, they downplay voluntary migration, for example, stories of migration motivated by the desire to pursue education or a profession. The implied message in many of these children’s stories is that people migrate to “our country” (the US and the UK) which is safe, welcoming, and prosperous, in order to leave behind places that are unsafe, dangerous, dirty, and poor.
To bypass highly politicized contemporary discourses about immigration and their often divisive tendencies, one strategy that 40% of the books employ is to locate their stories in the past, using history as a prism through which to understand contemporary migration. In this way, migration is presented as a story that is safely secured in the bygone era, as in, for example, stories of immigrants who entered the US through Ellis Island or of famous figures such as Irving Berlin, who immigrated from Tsarist Russia to hospitable New York.
Interestingly, the depiction of antagonists was largely absent in the stories; the world is presented as a safe place full of well-intentioned people, similar to TV content for young audiences. The protagonists, half of whom are children, are mostly migrants themselves and are represented by and large as human characters. They are frequently characterized as active and positive, exhibiting creativity, talent, innovativeness, bravery, resilience, kindness, and optimism. Their gender identity follows the typical imbalance in children’s media more generally – namely, the majority of characters are male, and are mostly depicted as active. It was striking that even the stories that did focus on a female protagonist completely ignored the particular gendered hardships and injustice faced by millions of girls in their countries from which they flee.
Finally, we also noted that the trend of diversifying the representation of children in contemporary media and culture manifests itself in picture books as well: over a third of the characters have brown skin, which can signify a range of races and ethnicities, including African, Latinx, Middle-Eastern, and/or South Asian, a quarter have white skin, and the rest are non-human or had more than one skin colour. In addition, some of the child characters are depicted in dual-parent families while others are presented in single-parent families. At the same time, heterosexuality remains the norm: there is no reference to non-heterosexual families or characters.
So what lessons can children learn from picture books focusing on immigration?
They may learn that migration stories are success stories, where children move from unfortunate circumstances in their home countries, which are predominantly in the global South, to much better lives in the host countries in the global North – most frequently the US. They are generally greeted with generosity and hospitality and find their host country to be a safe place of comfort, acceptance, and happiness, which is devoid of antagonists, and in which opportunities are bountiful and individual efforts are rewarded.
“[These picture books] miss an opportunity to broaden children’s knowledge and appreciation of the plurality of cultures, experiences, and places and the urgent need to respect and protect them.”
This is a familiar construction that celebrates ‘bootstrap neoliberalism,’ whereby individual determination, perseverance, resilience and optimism bear fruit in the ‘land of opportunities.’ Yet it misses the chance to engage young children with issues of equity, discrimination, and injustice in their own ‘host societies.’ It also contributes to the binary and stereotypical depiction of the global North as a safe haven, and the global South as a monolithic space of misery and suffering. The richness and diversity of cultures, traditions, histories and experiences outside of the western world is, in this way, largely erased. Therefore, we concluded that “paradoxically, while children’s picture books concerning migration are aimed at highlighting, appreciating, and celebrating difference and are part of the growing trend of children’s ‘diversity’ books that promote justice and fairness, they seem concurrently to erase difference and injustice. They thus miss an opportunity to broaden children’s knowledge and appreciation of the plurality of cultures, experiences, and places and the urgent need to respect and protect them.”
Shani Orgad
Department of Media and Communications, London School of Economics and Political Science
Dafna Lemish
School of Communication and Information, Rutgers University
Collaborator of the Center for Scholars & Storytellers
AAPI Hate is a Virus: How We As a Nation Can Find the Cure
How Asian Stereotypes In Media Led to a Shocking Rise in AAPI Hate Crimes in 2020-2021 — and What You Can Do About It.
Editor’s Note:
The importance of Asian representation in media could not be more clear in light of the recent Atlanta spa shootings and COVID-19 pandemic. The killer was motivated, in part, by films' and TV's frequent depiction of Asian women as sex objects and proper targets for abuse. Conservative media's constant references to the "Chinese Virus" and the "China Virus" have fueled a rising number of hate crimes against all Asian-Americans. Read below how you can support the AAPI community by creating more three-dimensional and positive Asian characters in movies and TV shows, patronizing Asian restaurants and businesses, donating to AAPI causes, and more.
By now, you have probably heard of the senseless shootings in Atlanta that targeted Asian people at massage parlors. Eight people were killed, six of whom were Asian and seven who were women. While mainstream news outlets like the New York Times used a trite headline “8 People Killed in Atlanta Area Massage Parlor Shootings,” the fact of the matter is that this wasn’t a random act of shooting fueled by passion or impulse. It was a hate crime. Unfortunately, this watered-down reporting is not an isolated incident. Reputable news outlets have a history of dismissing racist attacks toward Asians, and this lack of widespread media coverage invalidates the increasing prejudice and physical attacks Asians are facing on a daily basis, especially during the Covid-19 pandemic.
A History of Hatred
According to a national report by Stop AAPI Hate, there have been 3,795 reports of anti-Asian hate incidents from March 2020 to February 2021. And that does not account for the more subtle microaggressions that go unreported, such as a resentful glare at the grocery store or hearing someone call Covid-19 the “Chinese Virus” or the “Kung Flu.” While the national conversation is slowly beginning to put this issue to the forefront, Anti-Asian American hate is not new. The Chinese Massacre of 1871 murdered 17 Chinese men. The Chinese Exclusion Act of 1882 prohibited all immigration of Chinese laborers. The Rock Springs Massacre of 1885 led to 28 Chinese miners being slaughtered and 78 homes burned. The Watsonville Riots of 1930 beat Filipino field workers and left them to rot. Executive Order 9066 forced 127,000 Japanese Americans to move out of their homes and be imprisoned in internment camps. To say that this is a recent issue is not only deeply misguided but historically inaccurate. As deep as our roots may be in American soil, people of Asian descent are viewed as foreign. White supremacy and xenophobic tendencies are baked into the heart of our nation.
Creating better Asian characters in films and TV must move beyond tokenism. Casting people from different ethnic groups, without giving them much dialogue or opportunity to advance the plot, is not enough. Read more about writing more than token characters in movies and TV shows.
Even Hollywood, which is considered liberal-leaning and is slowly beginning to incorporate diversity and inclusion into its industry, has a history of racism that is still on display today. Asian women are often hypersexualized, objectified, and abused in films. It’s no coincidence that the Atlanta murderer, who blamed his actions on his sex addiction, specifically targeted spas comprised of Asian women. His remarks are rooted in a history of misogyny and stereotypes that are all too familiar for Asian and Asian American women. There is an unspoken belief in this country that Asian women are supposed to submit to the white savior, and this isn’t just limited to the public or the workplace. A 2016 report by the National Network to End Domestic Violence found that “41 to 61 percent of Asian women reported experiencing physical and/or sexual violence by an intimate partner in their lifetime, a higher rate than any other ethnic group.” Seeing these harmful stereotypes reinforced, even in films that are supposed to advocate for our community, is dangerous due to its reinforcement of the model minority myth. So what can we do about it?
Call to Action
The police are not the answer to stopping Asian American hate; not when their origins are deeply problematic; not when they sympathize with the murderer instead of showing compassion for the victims. Rather, we must rely on the collective strength of our communities of color and meaningful allies to fight for systemic change, going beyond performative action. As Representative Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez said, “Dismantling racist, anti-Asian violence means standing up to white supremacy - the same ideology that asks us to empathize with those who commit racist violence rather than the families destroyed and communities targeted by it. Standing up for Asian communities means standing up to racist policy, anti-Asian tropes, & understanding the long history of anti-Asian racism fueling this violence.”
Share and amplify the stories of the AAPI community. Check-in on AAPI friends and family. Support your local Asian restaurants and businesses. Call your legislators and ask what they are doing for the Asian community. Volunteer to help escort seniors in areas that have seen hate crimes. Report if you see any instance of a hate crime. Donate to organizations that support the cause against Asian violence. Petition to hold the media accountable for covering these stories. Follow platforms that discuss AAPI issues. Provide mental health resources to those who are struggling. But most of all, do not be silent. As Martin Luther King Jr. once said, “In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends.”
Reducing racial violence against Asian Americans begins at home, especially with kids' TV and movies. Find images of positive Asian characters for your children's entertainment. Help them develop cross-group friendships. Talk explicitly about racism and its influence in society. Read more about how to reduce racial bias in kids.
Hatred and violence against the AAPI community cannot and should not be tolerated. We must do whatever it takes to combat this issue while it is still part of the national conversation, not only for ourselves but for the subjugated and oppressed of the past. Then, and only then, we have a chance at curing this virus.
Actionable Insights
Support local Asian restaurants, businesses, and creatives.
Share and amplify the stories of the AAPI community who have experienced hate
Hold your elected officials accountable for what they are doing (or not doing) to help stop AAPI hate
Donate to organizations that support the AAPI community
Provide mental health resources to those in the community who need it
Create characters and content that authentically represent Asian Americans in Hollywood
Watch films that authentically represent the AAPI community
Denounce harmful stereotypical portrayals of Asians in TV and film when you encounter them
Call out yourself, friends, and family members for anti-Asian jokes and stereotypical comments
Rewrite history books in a way that accurately represents the struggles of the BIPOC community
Follow organizations that support the AAPI community and teach about their plight
CSS Intern
Disclaimer: The views, thoughts, and opinions expressed in this blog belong solely to the author, and do not necessarily reflect the views of the Center for Scholars & Storytellers.
Wonder Woman 1984: When Lack of Diversity Makes Wonder Woman Lose Her Wonder
If you were to ask the typical moviegoer who is the first female superhero you think of, chances are they would say Wonder Woman. While other female superheroes do exist (say Catwoman or Storm for example), they often take a backseat to the male protagonist, serving as a romantic interest or cliche rather than as a nuanced, complicated character. So when Wonder Woman came out in 2017, it provided a much-needed breath of fresh air in an overly saturated male-centric superhero genre. Seeing Princess Diana in her native land with her sister warriors of Themyscira by her side inspired millions of girls around the world, telling them that they too could be the heroes of their own story.
But while Wonder Woman (2017) pushed the boundaries of representation and diversity forward, its sequel, Wonder Woman 1984, failed to break new ground, sacrificing the empowering plot of its predecessor for empty spectacle. And the consequences were considerable. While Wonder Woman (2017) boasted a B Mediaversity rating, 93% critic score on Rotten Tomatoes, and 76 Metascore, Wonder Woman 1984 suffered from a measly C- Mediversity rating, 59% critic score on Rotten Tomatoes, and 60 Metascore. So what went wrong?
Where Wonder Woman 1984 Went Wrong
The film opens with a breathtaking flashback sequence, showing a pivotal moment in the life of young Diana, years before she’d become Wonder Woman. As she competes against fellow Amazons twice her size and age in feats of strength and skill, a perfect euphony of swift camerawork, quick editing, and an epic score fills the screen. The scene showcases Diana’s fearlessness and teaches her the virtue that truth triumphs over deception. Unfortunately, the rest of the film pales in comparison, whether it be in visual cohesion, story structure, or emotional impact.
To start things off, the film treats Barbara, Diana’s coworker at the Smithsonian Institution, as a two-dimensional plot device that reduces her to the strange girl trope. The two bond over a meal discussing how they fit in society, but beside that, Barbara’s role in the film becomes apparent: so Diana can have a big (poorly rendered) CGI fight with a physically imposing antagonist in the third act that seemingly every superhero film has. Considering the lack of nuanced female friendships in superhero films, it’s a shame that the screenwriters favored a heterosexual romance with Steve Trevor rather than exploring a potential relationship between Diana and Barbara, especially given that Wonder Woman is canonically bisexual in the comics. This was a perfect opportunity to represent the LGBTQ+ community that has been historically underrepresented, particularly within the superhero genre.
Instead, the film relies on what we are used to in superhero films, a heteronormative relationship in which the superhero’s purpose is based on their partner. Romance has the potential to be resonating and meaningful, but in Wonder Woman 1984, it feels forced and undeserved, especially given the context of how Steve sacrificed himself in Wonder Woman (2017). Diana’s abilities are regained only when she learns to let go of Steve, and there’s something deeply depressing and illogical about a female superhero whose identity is intertwined so much with a man that she is willing to lose her powers for him. Also, what is going on with the man whose body has been magically overtaken by Steve? Does he have a family or a job? Is he in the white man’s sunken place? Doesn’t Diana, who is supposed to be a beacon of truth and morality, find the notion of Steve inhabiting another man’s body problematic? The plot could have focused on this as the consequence of Diana’s wish, as it would have been much more thematically resonating for her to struggle with choosing her moral code over her love for Steve.
And that begs another question, why doesn’t Diana miss her Amazon sisters or her mentor who inspired her to believe in truth in the opening scene? Wonder Woman (2017) devoted the entire first act to the Amazons, portraying them as warriors, politicians, caregivers, and complex women with nuanced relationships. It set the standard for a feminist plot that didn’t pander to its audience but empowered them. The sequel would have benefitted from furthering this story arc by venturing deeper into Paradise Land, home of the Amazons of Themyscira. Instead, it takes place in a mostly white D.C., even though the city has been majority-Black since the 1950s and white residents made up just 26% of the population in 1984. It also relies on a banal plot device in a stone that can grant wishes, which seems more like a lazy deus ex-machina. rather than something original and exciting. Diana’s wish doesn’t cause a chain of events that lead to her losing her powers, they just magically disappear as a tradeoff for the sake of the plot and theme.
Lastly, I want to talk about the theme of the film: truth. Wonder Woman 1984 bashes the viewer in the head with this theme through dialogue that lacks subtlety and relies heavily on telling the audience rather than showing them. Its connection with the main plot seems incoherent at worst and passable at best, reducing the complex issue of longing for what you don’t have into something that is black and white (reminiscent of Kendall Jenner “solving racism” by handing a police officer a Pepsi) rather than addressing class differences and social/economic inequality. Barbara wants to be cool and confident so that she can become likable, but must stay a nerd because if she wishes to be like Diana then she becomes a cheetah? That just seems cruel and anti-feminist. And the film’s solution of Diana magically convincing the entire world to stop being greedy over the span of a painfully ignorant monologue was as tone-deaf as when Gal Gadot sang “Imagine.” The world may be beautiful if you’re a gorgeous Amazon superhero, but for most people, telling people to put rose-colored glasses over their terrible situation is patronizing. I’m sure the filmmakers’ intentions were in the right place, but the execution of the theme was mediocre and is obviously pandering to today’s political climate, sacrificing its authenticity in the process.
Why It Matters
You might be thinking, why do all of these things matter, can’t Wonder Woman 1984 solely be based on entertainment value? While I would argue the film doesn’t even meet that quota, we as a society cannot settle for mediocrity. And from a financial standpoint, there is a great benefit to having authentically inclusive representation. Yes, there is content that represents underrepresented communities in a profound way, but there’s still a huge room for improvement before we can get complacent. Very few films have the audience and reach that the Wonder Woman banner has, which is why it’s so important that the film, along with movies that have similar platforms, empower underrepresented communities instead of kicking them to the curb. Yes, there will be bumps and bruises along the way, but that’s to be expected with generational long-lasting change. The late great novelist James Baldwin put it best, “Not everything that is faced can be changed, but nothing can be changed until it is faced.” Take risks as creatives and challenge the status quo, and then just maybe Wonder Woman can have a shot at getting back her wonder.
Actionable Insights
Take tests like the Race in Entertainment Media (R.E.M.) Test to help evaluate Authentically Inclusive Representation in your content.
Use your platform to empower underrepresented communities instead of avoiding them in your film.
Hire more women and POC in behind-the-scenes positions who can incorporate their lived experience into the plot, otherwise, their characters’ storylines may lack authenticity or even be depicted as raceless.
Write characters that defy both negative and positive stereotypes to help prevent prejudice and discrimination.
Showcase stories that are authentically diverse, as meaningful representation consists of more than simply casting women and people of color.
CSS Intern
Disclaimer: The views, thoughts, and opinions expressed in this blog belong solely to the author, and do not necessarily reflect the views of the Center for Scholars & Storytellers.
How to Achieve Authentic Racial Diversity in Hollywood Media
When I was younger, between the ages of 2 to 9 years old, there were only a few Black characters with whom I genuinely connected. Of course, I found great examples of characters who shared my identity in Rugrats’ precocious Suzie Carmichael and The Proud Family’s spunky Penny Proud, among others. However, I knew what to expect as the general unspoken rule: the characters who shared my racial identity would not appear as the active protagonists in my favourite shows. The hours that I spent watching TV after school often left me feeling disappointed and hungry for the well-rounded experiences that I saw conveyed in stories about characters with other racial identities.
As I got older, the children’s media landscape began to include more Black characters who were not only present but were also richly-developed and thoughtfully portrayed. I learned about the power of these media representations first-hand in 2009, when The Princess and the Frog premiered. Princess Tiana appeared on-screen as an ambitious, hard-working, resilient Black woman and changed my world. For the very first time, I saw myself fully represented in a daring and capable being who actively pursued her own happy ending. For the very first time, I imagined myself as an adult who could overcome any challenge and achieve my biggest dreams. Soaring eagerly upon the winds of change that Tiana brought about, for the next few years I spent every waking hour telling anyone who would listen about the deep beauty that I found in Tiana’s dreams. Throughout elementary and high school, I collected every film-related book, incessantly researched the film’s development, and made a hobby out of setting and achieving big goals to ensure that I could keep pace with Tiana’s signature brand of ambition. With every stellar grade that I achieved, I was rewarded with the internal glow that I imagined Tiana felt when she got her restaurant. “Almost There” became my mantra and my anthem.
My relationship with Princess Tiana is far from unique. Across the country, children are discovering, identifying with, and learning from the characters that they encounter as they spend over 4 hours each day watching TV, playing video games, and browsing websites. During these impactful hours, children are both constructing their identities and learning how to perceive others, particularly those from social groups with which they have little contact. Indeed, the inclusion of racially diverse characters in children’s media has increased over the past 2 decades. A recent report that I co-authored with the Toronto-based Children’s Media Lab revealed that between 2018 and 2019, 49% of animated characters on Canadian children’s television shows were depicted as people of colour; an increase from the estimate of 35% that was given one year earlier in a report which focused on both live-action and animated programs. Although these changes should be commended, since kids and teens are now engaging with media more than ever before, it is crucial to move beyond simply including racially diverse characters in stories. It is time for content creators to authentically portray racially diverse characters, as this will foster a genuine appreciation for diverse identities and inclusion.
When storytellers develop narratives, characters, and worlds that support well-rounded depictions of race, they create standout content that will reach wide audiences and inspire generations of viewers to live and breathe the social harmony for which our society hungers.
Authentic Representations of Race Strengthen Kids
While there are many real-life resources that children use to shape their identities, media offers children something truly unique: the opportunity to see themselves and their cultures represented in fantasy. When Princess Tiana entered my life in 2009, not only did she inspire me to imagine myself as a talented, resourceful leader who could deftly navigate life’s unexpected bayou adventures; she also showed me that I could accomplish these things while embracing my ethnic and racial identities. As Disney’s first African American princess, she pulled me off of my couch and into her lively world so that I could become the protagonist of my own life. The long-term impacts of media characters on children are well-documented beyond my experience.
One study revealed that for children whose racial identities were misrepresented in media, watching television was linked to decreases in self-esteem due to an absence of characters who positively reflected their identities. Other studies have revealed that negative representations of Latinx and Black characters lead viewers to feel ashamed and less positive about their social groups. In a landmark study, researchers found that Indigenous American adults who saw stereotypical representations of their cultures felt less positive about their identities, and predicted that they would achieve less in the future than those who did not see the stereotypical representations.
The inclusion of authentic, racially diverse characters is particularly impactful for children who are members of underrepresented groups. Seeing characters who not only look like them but who also share their experiences can help them to absorb positive messages that boost their self-esteem. Additionally, when children who are not from underrepresented groups see these rich characters portrayed, they may learn how to respect and empathize with individuals from other racial groups.
Authentic Representations Create Excellent Content
A list of the top-grossing films of 2019 in the US shows that authenticity sells. Many of the films that appear on the list, such as Frozen 2 and The Lion King, were created by production and development teams that travelled to the countries that appeared in their films and learned about the cultures that they depicted.
Lived experiences are particularly crucial when depicting characters from diverse racial groups. Acclaimed films such as the Oscar-winning and high-earning Black Panther and Pixar’s animated Soul (which has already been nominated for 2 Golden Globes and received 3 trophies from the Critics Choice Super Awards) were developed by directors, producers, and writers who shared their characters’ identities and experiences. As a result, they captured nuances that made the films deeply resonate with diverse audiences which, in turn, enabled the films to become blockbusters.
Films and television shows that feature authentic representations of race also stand out because they depict dynamic, three-dimensional characters that defy common tropes. This is important because children more strongly remember and connect with characters who have well-rounded and relatable qualities. In fact, many leading resources that offer tips for developing compelling stories advocate for the creation of detailed characters who have believable desires and fleshed out personality traits. When racially diverse characters are depicted as dynamic individuals who both inhabit and shape their worlds, they easily captivate viewers with their enduring appeal and attract a loyal fan base.
Authentic Representations Evoke Change
While it is crucial for all children to see themselves represented on the screen, creating characters through which viewers can also hear themselves, see their diverse abilities portrayed, and embrace their unique personalities can also dismantle harmful racial stereotypes and biases. A recent analysis of contemporary media showed that Black characters are often portrayed as unemployed and aggressive individuals. Other findings were that Latinx characters tend to be portrayed as individuals who are unintelligent and short-tempered; East Asian characters are often portrayed as characters who fulfill the “Model Minority” stereotype; and Arabic characters are often portrayed as criminals. While inauthentic representations persist, research shows that positive, authentic representations of people of colour can make public attitudes towards these groups more positive.
With the exciting possibility of making an enduring impact across the media landscape, content creators have an opportunity to transform films, TV shows, and video games into powerful catalysts for positive social change.
Actionable Insights
Encourage writers, directors, artists, and other industry professionals who have diverse racial identities to share their authentic stories.
When representing racially diverse characters, consult with as many individuals who share characters’ races, cultures, and experiences as you can. Since no single experience will apply to all individuals from a given racial group, consult with diverse experts at every stage of content development and production.
Create racially diverse main characters who have a variety of personality traits, quirks, abilities, appearances, and conflicts that make them relatable and able to stand on their own.
Hire voice actors who share characters’ racial identities. Many talented voice actors are aware of the impact that authentic representations have on young audiences, and are eager to work on projects that champion authentic stories.
Hold frequent user testing and focus group sessions with members of the racial group that you are depicting, to ensure that your characters and stories are respectful and resonate with your target audience.
The compelling strength that Tiana brought to my world through her well-developed personality ignited my decision to become a children’s media consultant: a role that has enabled me to watch and contribute to the trend of increasing authentic diversity in media by supporting industry leaders. During and beyond Black History Month, I celebrate and acknowledge storytellers’ efforts to authentically represent racially diverse characters so that their stories can be remembered and relished long after the credits roll. While we have trends yet to change, I truly do believe that we are almost there.
Josanne Buchanan, BSc.
Children’s Media Consultant at OK Play / Research Assistant at Children’s Media Lab