What the Oscars teach us about the urgency of DEI
“If you are silent about your pain, they’ll kill you and say you enjoyed it.” This Zora Neale Hurston quote was what started to rattle around my head this morning, after waking up to the news that Angela Bassett’s visible heartbreak - for not winning Best Supporting Actress at last night’s Oscars - was already being critiqued by the talking heads of Twitter for its lack of ‘graciousness’.
Ahh, graciousness. A term that we Black women know all too well. A term that’s lobbed our way anytime we do not show the required level of civility and gratitude for the crumbs that white institutions deign to throw our way. When the facade that we so lovingly craft of agreeability and likeability and ‘grateful just to be here’ is cracked, even for a moment, the condemnation is always swift.
But imagine being a Black actor that’s been at the very top of her game for over 30 years; someone who should arguably have won multiple Oscars already, but who has only ever been nominated twice. Imagine working in an industry known for its anti-blackness, known for its snubs, and its disrespect - but holding out hope that this could finally be your night. And then being criticised for your authentic reaction to the news that you probably knew was coming, because history has taught you what to expect.
It’s worth noting that last night was a night that was, in many ways, marvellous in its recognition of diverse talent. How joyous to see a long-overdue Asian sweep; historic firsts - from Michelle Yeoh and Ke Huy Quan becoming the first two Asian actors to win on the same night - to Michelle Yeoh becoming the first Asian actress ever to win Best Actress (and the second woman of colour). ‘Daniels’ gave a powerful speech for their ‘Best Director’ win about creative expression, the harmlessness of drag, and the power of parents who encourage and support their children, even at the expense of their own hopes and dreams. And what a delight to see an independent film about the immigrant experience, generational trauma, and the multiverse (!) - featuring a LGBTQ+ character front-and-centre, no less - win so many awards.
The impact of these incredible achievements should not be underestimated. As ethnic minorities, we naturally take high profile losses and wins personally. Representation is so important to us because it’s so scarce, and recognition even more so. That’s why we all knew exactly what Issa Rae meant when she said she was “rooting for everybody Black” at the Emmys five years ago. It’s why we feel joy at these historic wins that the Asian community are celebrating today. And it’s also why we felt the deep empathy that Jonathan Majors and Michael B. Jordan were feeling when they looked directly at Angela Bassett after her loss last night and said “Hey auntie, we love you.”
The bias that lies at the heart of these ‘prestigious’ institutions is plain to see. Just last week an Entertainment Weekly article revealed - through anonymous interviews with Academy voters - the deep misogynoir at the heart of the voting process. One interviewee (a prominent actor) hit back at the notion that Viola Davis was snubbed (she was passed over for a nomination for her performance in The Woman King). He was quoted as saying “no, sweetheart, you didn’t deserve it”, and went on to say “Viola Davis and the lady director need to sit down, shut up, and relax” - before admitting he hadn’t even watched the film. It is no wonder that only two Black actors were even nominated this year, and that both Angela Bassett and Stephanie Hsu lost out to an undeniably less Oscar-worthy performance from a white actor - when we consider the attitudes that prevail behind closed doors.
Working in DEI means challenging and critiquing systems. It means wrestling with the hopeful desire to transform institutions that have long excluded certain groups, and the deep concern that these institutions may never truly recognise or include us. When it comes to the Oscars, this mix of joy and sorrow is built into our relationship with the ceremony. After all, Hattie McDaniel, the first Black person to win an Oscar, had to suffer the indignity of walking up to receive her award from a side table in the corner, far away from her co-stars (the ‘whites only’ hotel hosting the ceremony had to give special permission for her to attend at all). She won that year for playing a maid, and would play a maid 74 times in her career. To this day, Black wins are shockingly scarce (only 22 Black actors have won an Oscar in its 96 year history) and Black stories are rarely recognised, unless being told through a white lens, by white filmmakers.
So - many of us are feeling a mixture of emotions today, as is often the case post-Oscars. The many history-making ‘firsts’ are both a wonderful, heartening sign of progress, and a damning indictment of how far we still have to go. Ke Huy Quan’s admission that (before making his glorious comeback) he quit acting for decades because of the lack of roles for Asian actors isn’t just an inspiring story of grit and perseverance, it’s a shocking revelation about industry-wide racial exclusion. And how wonderful it would have been to finally see a deserving Black actress win for a part in a Black-led film, in which Blackness is not only respected, but celebrated. Angela Bassett’s crestfallen reaction to yet-another snub in a decades-long line of snubs was both heartbreaking and refreshing. It was an invitation for Black women to be authentic (if only for a moment) in a world that expects only graciousness from us. Our pain is valid and we don’t have to be silent about it.
