Film and television representation for anyone who isn’t straight, white and cisgender has been largely nonexistent until very recently. People of color have been condemned to stereotyped roles, often playing domestic workers or exaggerated caricatures of their cultures. The painful truth is women, people of color and transgender people do not see themselves reflected back in the media they consume.
Many people find a lack of diverse representation to be a nonissue — that, somehow, the sparse sprinkling of diversity in our media is enough. Portraying black people as maids and criminals or women as girlfriends and prostitutes is not enough, nor is it just or accurate.
Just because film and television are media of entertainment does not mean their unequal representation is trivial. Fiction and frivolity are not mutually inclusive. In fact, the kind of art a society produces is highly reflective of the ideals of that society.
Whenever we see a character who isn’t a straight white man, we wonder at the reasoning behind such a casting choice. Why does this character have to be black? How does making this character gay change the story? Why is it necessary? We see anything other than straight white men as a deviation from the norm. And therein lies the crux of the problem.
We perceive whiteness, maleness and heterosexuality as normal — a default setting. Anyone who doesn’t fit this mold is different; other. The opponents to diverse media representation are usually those whom the media is abundantly representing. The people media ignore hold the mirror of art up to life and cannot see themselves.
Movies set in African countries where the only black actors are thieves and slaves is unacceptable. Movies about relationships where women only exist to talk about men are unacceptable. Movies that feature transgender women played by cisgender men are unacceptable.
Dominican-American author Junot Diaz once spoke of representation as a demonization of those neglected. “If you want to make a human being into a monster,” he said, “deny them, at the cultural level, any reflection of themselves.” A demand for diverse representation is not a trite whim but a necessary justice. In refusing to write black, gay or trans people as 3-D characters of value, we contribute to the prejudiced view that those people don’t exist.
The media we consume has shaped our fundamental values since we were children. Not only do white male children — our “default” — internalize negative images about those different from them, but also black children, girls and children from nontraditional families begin to internalize negative ideas about themselves. “I felt like a monster in some ways,” Diaz revealed, “I didn’t see myself reflected at all.”
Defining beauty, normalcy or value as one cookie-cutter section of humanity does not only promote sexist, racist or homophobic beliefs, but it limits the scope and richness of stories being told. Shows like “Empire,” “Broad City” and “Orange is the New Black” wonderfully showcase underrepresented groups with detailed, likeable characters and rich, invested plot lines.
These celebrations of diverse casts are brilliant, but the scales remain far from even. As consumers, we vote with our dollars. We can demand representation by consuming the media that provides it and ignoring the media that doesn’t. While avoiding all sexist, racist, homophobic or otherwise regressive media is virtually impossible, being selective and critical of the media you consume is not.
When we hold the mirror of art up to life, we should see a complex, diverse reflection — not a scene from “Mad Men.”
Amy Coker is a UF English junior. Her column appears on Wednesdays.
[A version of this story ran on page 7 on 4/1/2015 under the headline “Diverse media representation is essential yet still somehow lacking”]
