Visibility matters. It’s a simple enough concept, one we’ve heard time and time again. And yet, there is still a huge gap in mainstream TV and film media that needs to be filled.
While I fully acknowledge that it has taken a long time for LGBTQIA+ stories to make their way to small and big screens, we are now at a point where we need to work harder to normalize intersectional queerness. As such, I expect those in storytelling industries to prioritize underrepresented queer voices, because there is simply no excuse not to make queer people of colour, people with disabilities, and other minorities be the star of their own show. (And no, being reduced to a side character that ticks off the “token queer” box doesn’t count.) By showcasing a diverse and authentic array of queer stories, society will become more cognizant of different perspectives, and more awareness will inevitably lead to more open dialogue, acceptance, and equality.
in·ter·sec·tion·al·i·ty/ˌin(t)ərsekSHəˈnalədē/: the interconnected nature of social categorizations such as race, class, and gender as they apply to a given individual or group, regarded as creating overlapping and interdependent systems of discrimination or disadvantage.
Oxford Languages
There was once a time where I accepted any queer stories I could get. But now, I seek out divergent viewpoints from Hollywood’s limiting, typical, “aesthetically palatable” queer (here’s looking at you, Happiest Season). As in, can creators do exactly this, but instead have main characters who aren’t always white, cisgender, and able-bodied? And on that note, the spectrum of LGBTQIA+ is also vastly underrepresented, mainly falling under the L and G but scarcely under the B, T, Q, I, A, or beyond. This isn’t to say that those stories aren’t also important, but there are so many perspectives that have yet to be seen or heard – and don’t they deserve just as much visibility, if not more?
Storytelling mediums have the power to educate, open minds, and encourage critical thinking. And in the most beautiful of times, they can resonate with viewers so deeply that they help them overcome real-life barriers. That said, if we’re only seeing a tiny percentage of the spectrum being portrayed, we’re being actively deprived of real representation. It also makes it harder for queer minorities to relate to the people we see onscreen, because we may not be seeing reflections of ourselves in them. If we’re not seeing ourselves, perhaps we think there’s something wrong with us, or that we’re alone in our experiences. This is precisely why visibility and representation matters: to shatter stigma, to alter preconceived notions, to offer support and solidarity, to make a positive impact on society, and to put us in touch with the most deeply human parts of ourselves.
So today, I’m celebrating intersectional queer stories by sharing three shows I watched during Pride month, which I think did an excellent job of showcasing underrepresented voices!
Master of None – Season 3 (2021)
Since its release in 2015, Master of None has been lauded for its ability to place unconventional characters at the forefront of conventional stories. Each season has been a rich, nuanced, and cinematic experience, and Season 3 is no exception. Subtitled “Moments in Love”, the latest season focuses on Lena Waithe’s character, Denise, and her wife Alicia (played by Naomi Ackie). It entirely pulls away from Aziz Ansari’s Dev, and frankly, I’m so glad Ansari decided to step away from the spotlight and give this season to Denise, whose character hadn’t been explored nearly enough. (Though Season 2’s episode “Thanksgiving”, which details her coming out journey to her family, is one of the show’s best.) Comprised of a series of vignettes, Season 3 centres on Denise’s life after achieving fame as a bestselling author, and her quiet life in upstate New York with Alicia. As the series goes on, it unravels the ups and downs of their relationships—with each other, with themselves, and the world around them. These progressively complex interactions result in a spectacular character study of both these queer Black characters, and Waithe’s and Ackie’s stellar performances play a large part in that. The stories that unfold are also not exclusively about their queerness, serving as a reminder that LGBTQIA+ stories don’t only have to be about the hardships of being queer. The season is filled to the brim with thoughtful, emotional, complicated, uplifting, and heartbreaking moments. It was artful as Master of None always is, by showcasing the visceral reality of life and relationships, the uncomfortable and the mundane, the exciting and the beautiful.
Special (2019 – 2021)
Ryan O’Connell, who is the writer, executive producer, and star of Special, is a gay man with cerebral palsy who based the show on his own experiences. Though the basic formula of Special is not a new one—e.g. focusing primarily on a character’s personal growth and the relationships they build—what makes this show unique is its focus on what it’s like to be a person living with a disability. The comedy-drama explores his character’s journey with his identity as a queer person with a disability, and how it affects the way he interacts with himself and the people around him. He also deals with ableism in the workplace as well as internalized ableism, and Special details how he overcomes these barriers while also providing a larger social commentary on the topic. The show uses quirky, quippy humour to touch on very real topics (the vibe of which reminds me of Aidy Bryant’s show Shrill). The fact that his character is also queer adds another distinct and niche layer of representation, which is important to show since queer intersectionality exists in so many forms and iterations. Another important factor is that O’Connell is an actor with a disability playing a person with a disability. With reports showing that the majority of disabled TV characters are played by able-bodied actors, this needs to be rectified by providing more of these opportunities to actors with disabilities. Ultimately, Special excels because it tells a specific story, and in doing so, causes viewers to think more critically about how society treats people who are visibly and non-visibly “different”.
Love, Victor (2020 – Present)
Though you may roll your eyes at the idea of yet another coming out story of a struggling young teen, this show may surprise you. The eponymous Victor Salazar, who has just moved from Texas to Atlanta with his parents and siblings, is a Latinx teenager who is exploring his own sexuality. Coming from a Catholic family, Love, Victor showcases the many layers of coming out as a PoC person in a cultural and religious household—where topics of queerness are often so taboo that they’re talked about through the lens of shame and guilt, or not talked about at all. The show is a spinoff of the film Love, Simon, and is an excellent transition from the film’s more Hollywood-esque formula by keeping it in the same established universe but passing the torch to a person of colour. As a character who falls into “multiple minority groups”, Victor experiences very different pressures, expectations, and internal struggles than Simon did (who is white with liberal parents), a theme the show actively acknowledges and explores. Though Love, Victor has no shortage of cheesy, tropey teen drama, the fact that it has a queer PoC main character subverts the typical structure. Because the only way our world will get to a place of true equality is by showcasing intersectionality in all instances; whether that’s in prestige television or soapy teen dramas. And even through its corny moments, it’s a show that everyone – particularly queer people coming from strict, cultural, or religious families – can relate to. I also love that, though we do see Victor struggle with his sexuality and identity, we also see him go through moments of joy, happiness, and acceptance. Another thing I love about Love, Victor is that it gets bolder and more mature as the seasons progress. For instance, it shows romantic queer interactions and sex scenes with the same liberties straight couples have always been awarded with. Though this may not seem like a big deal to some, doing so is an important way to ensure queer narratives are on the same level playing field as heteronormative narratives. All in all, Love, Victor expertly explores the nuances of being a queer person of colour, and comes to life brilliantly through its talented cast and important subject matter.
These are just a few example of emerging media that explores intersectional queer stories, and I’m so ready and excited to see more. The LGBTQIA+ spectrum is beautifully and infinitely diverse, as there are so many people from different races, genders, bodies, cultures, and sexualities that deal with queerness in their own unique ways. So if you have any queer film, TV, or book recommendations, please let us know by commenting on our blog post or visiting us on Twitter, Facebook, or Instagram!
Though Pride month has come to an end, know that we celebrate Pride all year, all the time. Know that you will always find support, allyship, and a safe space at AvidBards. Queer rights, visibility, and representation is and will always be a priority for us, and is something we will continually fight for until we reach true equality for all.
~ Z ~
Photo by Sharon McCutcheon on Unsplash
