Why You Should Support Diversity in Storytelling
For many years, one of my side jobs as an actor in New York was working as a casting reader for big Broadway plays. It was a remarkable opportunity to sit on the other side of the table and study the craftsmanship of auditioning.
One evening as I was walking home, I glanced up at a billboard on the corner of 42nd and 8th. Images of actors on shows like Blue Bloods, The Good Wife, and CSI were plastered across a massive signboard overlooking the relentless bustle that is Time Square.
I couldn’t help but notice how every square was filled with the face of a white actor. The contrast as I glanced below and took in the makeup of this great city was stark. I noticed people of seemingly infinite cultural backgrounds, shapes, sizes, colors, faiths, philosophies, and ambitions.
I saw a city that as of 2006 was nearly 28% Hispanic or Latino, a shade over 25% Black or African American, and close to 12% Asian.
Of course, New York is an exceptional city brimming with anomalies but it’s also part of a country whose landscape is quickly changing.
For example, nearly 17,000,000 people across the country identify as Asian American, nearly 45,000,000 as African American, and 52,000,000 persons consider themselves Latino.
We are architects, engineers, educators, nurses, urban planners, teachers, store clerks, parents, students, artists and so much more. More importantly, we personify greater influence than what mass media often maintains.
As an actor, writer, and filmmaker who couldn’t be more proud of his mixed heritage, I can only speak from my unique experience. Still, I believe what unites people who check the “other box” and have decided to pursue a calling in the arts is the nagging question, “What is taking so long?
Why haven’t we seen these undeniable changes in our country accurately portrayed in media and entertainment?
Ask anyone you know to name two prominent leading Asian American male actors known for their dramatic chops and not throwing a punch, brandishing a blade, or being the butt of a one-liner.
Invariably, you’ll be met with blank stares or asked if Bruce Lee or Jackie Chan count.
The truth is, I spent years in audition rooms with wildly talented Asian American men who could go toe-to-toe with actors working at the highest levels of performance.
But their talents often lay dormant because of a lack of opportunities to portray characters who happened to be Asian. The roles for many people of color are often less about a person’s humanity than their origin.
Studying theater in grad school was an extraordinary time in my young life. I was encouraged to take risks, find courage in vulnerability, and recognize the power of compelling stories.
I was also surrounded by a like-minded group of people who felt a desire to use storytelling as a way of sharing the human condition.
What’s more, there was no intolerance in that little black box theater. Uncle Vanya could be black, Ophelia a petite girl from Singapore, and not a speck of truth was sacrificed.
If anything, the stories were enriched.
But I soon discovered that flexibility in thinking didn’t extend beyond those four walls.
“Why can’t the D.A. on that hit court room drama be a Asian American? Arab American? African American? I wondered almost obsessively.
I began to take a serious look at the landscape of this industry and what my prospects were. I wondered if the only roles in store were delivery boys, techies, or gangsters.
And in that self-examination, I grew progressively more confounded at how a country that had just elected an African American president and had more women in its universities than men, could not extend that resilience in thought to diverse voices in something as fundamental to our existence as stories.
Still, I cling to my optimism. I have to. We are starting to see some progress, however unhurried and imperfect.
But what it’s really going to take for a movement to be galvanized are a refusal for actors of color to fall victim to self-pity and complacency.
We must beat the drums of disenchantment with our pens — our equally mighty pens. We have to write our own stories.
We mustn’t be pliant when roles written for people of color don’t go to them as the author intended. It’s crucial to take a stand and refute the notion that we are not good enough to live truthfully in the roles that were literally penned for us.
Conversely, we must also decline some of those roles that were written for us. It means ditching a paycheck to preserve once’s integrity.
Several years ago, I was asked by my new talent agent if there were parts I wouldn’t take. Here’s what I wrote:
I won’t compromise my personal ethics, morals, or core principles. I also will not perpetuate what I perceive to be ethnic stereotypes, or undermine my ethnic heritage. (i.e. the butt of a one-liner Asian joke in a sitcom, etc.) Also happy to elaborate if there any questions.
I was enormously grateful she asked and as result our partnership grew stronger.
Why Should You Care?
One of the reasons being an artist is such a courageous endeavor is because of the tremendous power entrusted to you. When you put pen to paper, dab paint to canvas, sing on stage, or act in a film you have accepted an enormous responsibility.
In fact, that duty is so big it transcends artistic expression.
Artists are ambassadors of the human spirit, holding up bullhorns to our deepest selves to connect and deepen our humanity.
Still, the seeds of such change can only be planted when we understand and accept people from all walks of life. When we create exclusive rights on who gets to tell these stories, we limit our reach and close off an entire world of possibilities.
The potential of the artist can only reach its greatest heights when the voices of all begin to emerge. By doing so we make the world a smaller place with much greater understanding.
Nobody has a monopoly on the human condition.
We must proceed accordingly.
If you enjoyed this article, sign up for my bi-monthly newsletter with my favorite book, film, and travel recommendations in addition to my latest articles on productivity and inspiration.
Plus, I’d love to share my free Creativity Day Planner — a simple two -page template on building good daily habits.
