The
entries I posted last weekend got me thinking – about media diversity of all
types, and about myself – and I realized it was time for a “check your
privilege” moment.
I
recognize the social power of stories, especially on TV. I’m always on the lookout for strong, dynamic
female characters, and I know how beneficial visibility can be for members of
any minority group. As a white,
able-bodied American from a good socio-economic background, I clearly won a lot
of societal jackpots. Still, I know I’m
hyperaware of portrayals of women, in a way that my brothers aren’t. I know how aggravating it can be to have a
woman relegated to girlfriend status, and I notice how often “strong woman”
translates to “conventionally attractive woman with many traditionally-masculine
traits/attitudes.” I don’t generally see
female characters who look like me – women with my body type, obviously, women
who don’t like makeup, women with a penchant for nerdy T-shirts and jeans that
fit comfortably.
It
wasn’t until recently, when I started deploring the dearth of asexual
characters out there, that I really began to yearn for representation. It’s one thing to want female characters I
can root for, or celebrate diverse casts in the abstract; it’s quite another to
realize “I don’t see any characters
who are like me.” There’s something so cathartic about seeing Poppy from Huge.
Even though she has a minor role and won’t be cracking any lists of my
favorite characters, knowing that she’s there is so powerful. I didn’t quite know how much I needed her
character until I saw her.
After
writing about Taystee and Poussey, I struck by my own relative
viewer-privilege. Even though I’m always
more likely to tune into a show with a diverse ensemble, and I keep an eye on
how shows treat their minority characters, I have major blind spots. Before I started craving openly asexual
characters, I see that I took my otherwise fairly easy-to-find representation
for granted. I don’t have to search for
white, able-bodied American women on TV.
They’re just there. In vast
swathes of the TV I watch (save the “American” part when it comes to British
shows,) they’re just there. I’m sure
they always will be. Even now, though,
there are still shows without any regular characters of color, queer characters,
or characters with disabilities, and many that do don’t feature them as
protagonists. Regarding Poussey and
Taystee, I’m sure there are women who crave compelling black female characters like
I do asexuals, and it sucks that representation isn’t readily available for
them. As much as I like this pair, how
much more wonderful must they be to someone who’s really aching for their
presence on TV!
Also, while Poussey
is easily my favorite on Orange is the
New Black, I’m honestly not sure if I would have sought out a show solely
about her, Taystee, Crazy Eyes, Sophia, and Miss Claudette. It’s absurd to think, because I love these
awesome women’s stories. But it occurs
to me that I may seek out diverse ensembles and grumble when the minority characters
are portrayed lazily or unfairly, but I don’t make an effort to find shows
expressly about minority
characters. I’ve only watched a few shows
with a mostly-LGBTQ ensemble or a disabled protagonist (although I know the
pool for the latter is shockingly limited, and the practice of hiring
able-bodied actors to play disabled characters is far too rampant,) and I’ve never followed a show that doesn’t have
any white characters as regulars. I don’t
know why; it’s not as if I’m hurting for white, able-bodied American representation
elsewhere, so why do I not gravitate toward these shows? There’s no reason for it, and it’s not
something that I want to be true of me.
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