EVERY SINGLE WORD

Total run time of all Nancy Meyers-directed movies: 12 hours and 43 minutes

Total run time of POC speaking in NM-directed movies: 5 minutes and 23 seconds

That’s 0.705%. 

Total POC characters: 30

Total POC characters with no name: 20

Total POC characters that work in the service industry/assistance: 19

Total POC characters whose actions affect the storyline: 1

Not sure who Nancy Meyers is? Maybe you’ll recognize one of the six movies she directed.

All of these movies have been box office hits.

(Source: Box Office Mojo)

Her movies center around brilliant & successful female protagonists. 

(Source: The Guardian)

But here’s how her work stacks up on Every Single Word. 

Nope, don’t worry, your internet is working fine. That’s not a video, it’s a screenshot because no POC speak in that entire movie. Let’s move on:

Note: Keanu Reeves, who is part Hawaiian and 1/8 Chinese, is in Something’s Gotta Give. However, Reeves self-identifies as a “white boy.” (Source: Vibe)

Total POC Characters to Speak in all Movies Directed by Nancy Meyers:

30

POC Characters With a First & Last Name:

1 - Oprah Winfrey (as herself; she appears on a TV screen in It’s Complicated)

POC Characters With One Name:

9 - Stella, Flo the Doorwoman, Norm, Jess (Dan’s Secretary), Dr. Martinez, Maggie, Marta, Reynaldo, Eddie

POC Characters With No Name:

20 - Marshall Field’s Shopper, Kitchen Secretary, Nightclub Singer, Nike Executive (2), Woman in Chinatown, Hamptons Nurse, NYC Nurse, Man at Party, Airport Security, Gardener, Postal Worker, Young Man at WGA, Restaurant Host, Fertility Nurse, Customer Service Rep, ATF Receptionist, Mailroom Intern, ATF Tech Team, Hotel Manager

POC Characters Who Work In the Service Industry / Support Position:

19 - Stella, Flo the Doorwoman, Jess (Dan’s Secretary), Kitchen Secretary, Hamptons Nurse, NYC Nurse, Gardener, Marta, Postal Worker, Young Man at WGA, Reynaldo, Restaurant Host, Eddie, Fertility Nurse, Customer Service Rep, ATF Receptionist, Mailroom Intern, ATF Tech Team, Hotel Manager

POC Characters Who Speak In More Than One Scene:

5 - Stella, Flo the Doorwoman, Dr. Martinez, Maggie, Reynaldo

POC Characters Who Deliver News That Affects The Storyline:

2 - Dr. Martinez, Maggie

POC Characters Whose Actions Affect The Storyline:

1 - Maggie

POC Characters With a Love Interest:

3 - Flo the Doorwoman, Kitchen Secretary, Maggie

POC Characters With a Requited Love Interest:

1 - Maggie

This is Maggie.

This is a great question and one I get frequently after talks. Thanks for giving me the opportunity to answer it here. Let’s do this.

Essentially, I see two ways to write people of color:

1. Intentionally. These are the type of characters I think you’re talking about, the ones you’re afraid of writing disrespectfully. Characters whose very essence is tied to their racial identity. Where race plays a big role in the story. Is your character a Vietnamese woman who has decided to move to Ohio where she grapples with questions of selfhood and culture? Yup, intentional. 

2. Unintentionally. This is when you just write a character whose race isn’t specified. Did you write about a rich celebrity dentist who is having a mid-life crisis? Well that could be a person of any race. In this case, “writing POC” has more to do with casting POC in roles where race isn’t specified.

So when you’re intentionally writing POC characters the best thing to do is listen. Yup, the key to being an ally is the key to being an artist, too. Always do your research. A ton of research. And research in this sense often means collaboration. Make sure that as you write this character you are constantly talking to people who have more insight about this character than you do. Incorporate their ideas, their experiences. Invite them to shape this character with you so much that they are either credited as a co-writer or consultant. A great example of a white dude intentionally writing a POC character is Sean Baker who wrote and directed Tangerine, a film that follows two black trans women sex workers in Los Angeles. Here is a great interview with him and the film’s star Mya Taylor talking about how he incorporated Mya’s experiences throughout the filmmaking process. The result: incredibly nuanced, three dimensional characters that are neither disrespectful nor rooted in stereotype.

When you’re unintentionally writing POC characters, this is much easier: don’t cast white people by default in stories that aren’t about race. One more time for emphasis: don’t cast white people by default in stories that aren’t about race. This is one of the biggest points I make through Every Single Word. We’re so used to seeing POC play POC only when the story is about race (and also white people playing POC; looking at you Gods of Egypt etc.) and so rarely see POC playing main characters whose race isn’t specified. Also, trust that the actor you cast will infuse nuance into the role. Let’s go back to that example from before: the rich celebrity dentist with a mid-life crisis. Let’s say you cast a Guatemalan woman as the dentist. Trust that she will bring her humanity to the part. And, like an outfit, tailor it to her. Listen to her experiences and figure out if her lines and actions sound right to both her and you. In 2014 when Shonda Rhimes was criticized for writing too many gay scenes, like a boss, she tweeted back “There are no GAY scenes. There are scenes with people in them.” 

A few weeks ago I gave a lecture at Yale University about race on film. In the Q&A portion a woman in the front row asked what I thought about Lena Dunham’s point that she didn’t feel comfortable writing a part for a woman of color because she herself isn’t a woman of color. (No, this is not an anti-Lena Dunham post. Here at Every Single Word we don’t point the fingers at people but at systemic trends and patterns). I’ve been thinking about this question ever since and didn’t totally understand why it bothered me so much. So I’ve decided to answer it publicly here.  

First, I had to find the real, full quote. It was from an interview Dunham had done on NPR in 2012.

“This show isn't supposed to feel exclusionary. It's supposed to feel honest, and it's supposed to feel true to many aspects of my experience. But for me to ignore that criticism [about the show’s lack of diversity] and not to take it in would really go against my beliefs and my education in so many things. ... Something I wanted to avoid was tokenism in casting. If I had one of the four girls, if, for example, she was African-American, I feel like — not that the experience of an African-American girl and a white girl are drastically different, but there has to be specificity to that experience [that] I wasn't able to speak to.” (Fresh Air, 2012)

Clearly Dunham was aware of the show’s criticism and offers a thoughtful response. I re-watched the Girls pilot. And I really enjoyed it. It lovingly and hilariously lampoons privilege, and captures the hope and despair of some people’s early twenties. Also, I was reminded of the strength of Lena Dunham’s writing. And yet, the quote still made me uneasy. In looking to unpack her idea that she didn’t have the authority to write a part for a non-white girl I was so busy looking for things I didn’t like about the pilot, that the real reason the quote didn’t sit with me was just the opposite: I did like the pilot. I, a person of color, identified with her characters.

Girls is about privilege and aimlessness, not about about whiteness. I know many women of color just like the show’s main characters. Women of color who are college educated, financially supported, brilliant, and questioning what fuck they’re going to do with their lives. The notion that Dunham couldn’t capture the “specificity” of a woman of a different race seems to be operating on the myth that there is a different way to be a person of color. Considering that these characters are written as privileged, not white, it would have been so cool to see a woman of color grapple not with her color but with her privilege.

The show that kept coming to mind was The Fresh Prince of Bel Air, specifically the Hilary character. She was so refreshing, not because she represented ALL black women but because she represented SOME black women. She was a materialistic valley girl, loveably out-to-lunch, and black. All three of those truths existed simultaneously. The gift of that show, aside from the immortal theme song, is that it complicates what it means to be black. Because being black is not a singular experience. 

Naomi Ekperigin, a writer for Broad City and a good friend, recently did a great interview with Marie Claire. She declares that her “next great push is for women of color to be allowed to be that flawed, to be potheads, and to be aimless. Aimless is the key word. We have all the women trying to find themselves. But, if you're a black woman on TV, you better be running a damn empire, sleeping with the President, saving people's lives, teaching people law. You have to have a very strong skill.” 

Just like you, maybe, I saw the Vanity Fair portrait of Michael B. Jordan and Ryan Coogler and I thought it was beautiful. Two straight men showing affection for each other. And just like you, maybe, I followed the online criticism that it sparked. Hundreds of comments poured in that seemed to fall into one of the following categories: (1) That’s gay. Get this out of my face. (2) Why does America need to keep emasculating Black men? (3) Don’t worry, this is brotherly love not the other, bad kind of love. (4) We should celebrate love because all love is beautiful. And just like you - maybe - I was prompted to wrestle, yet again, with the impossibility and absolute necessity of queer men of color on screen. Which is, of course, not to say only queer men of color but all diversity within color so that we avoid the danger of single stories and false paradigms. 

This is not about Michael B. Jordan’s and Ryan Coogler’s sexuality; it never was. It’s about what people feel when they see avatars of themselves doing something they’ve been strictly warned against. 

In 2014 Nate Parker, the writer-director-star of the Sundance hit The Birth of a Nation (the soon-to-be Best Picture nominee, not the deeply deeply racist 1915 movie), sat down for an interview with BET. He said that to “preserve the black man you will never see [him] play a gay role.” The video has since been taken down but, like an elephant, the internet forgets nothing; an article on Ebony and a now-defunct URL from Bossip have preserved this quote for posterity. 

“Preserve the black man.” “Emasculation of black men.” There is a clear parallel between Parker’s promise and the Vanity Fair portrait criticism: maintaining value through preservation of image.

We care about images of ourselves on screens, whether they are our own or similar to our own. Just as we check selfies to make sure we look good in them, or untag pictures of ourselves if they don’t represent who we want to be, we also care about the celebrities and roles that are meant to represent us. Pictures and celebrities are our avatars; they stand for us when we’re not there. They are our proxies in fantasy worlds and historical re-tellings and red carpet photographs. They are meant to be just like us. Maybe.

People of color have far fewer avatars on screen than our white counterparts. And with that comes a protectiveness of how our avatars are presented. I read Nate Parker’s promise to never play a gay character and the comments about the “emasculation of the black man” not as hate, but as terrified preciousness. The fear that one of the limited reflections they see of themselves will be devalued and shattered with the slightest wrong move.

Nate Parker is not the enemy. Nor are the commenters. Though their statements are hurtful, myopic, and couched in femmephobia, their unfortunate words are only symptoms of the problem. The real enemy is the system that has so disproportionately limited the options for The Other that all of us “Others” are left fighting over what it means to be a Good Other. Like Kerry Washington so brilliantly said, "we have been pitted against each other and made to feel like there are limited seats at the table.”

Part of the privilege of whiteness is the diversity of white avatars that appear on screen. There is less preciousness because there are so many options. 

Now let’s revisit that selfie analogy. It’s like white people were handed smartphones with unlimited storage and data and told to take selfies of themselves while people of color, all people of color, were thrown one disposable camera with the same instructions. All we can do is take 27 photos and hope - against all odds - that one of them will look just like us. All of us. Maybe.

Run time: 27 seconds

Roles: Garabedian’s Receptionist, Intern Wanda, Guest List Woman, and Cop in Coffee Shop

Last week the long-awaited Ghostbusters trailer was released. To recap:

1. Trailer is released. 

2. Some YouTube commenters are upset about a female reboot of the franchise.

3. Some people express disappointment that Leslie Jones plays an MTA Worker. 

4. Leslie Jones responds to Backlash #3. 

Jones makes some great points in her response. She asks, “Why can't a regular person be a ghostbuster. Im confused. And why can't i be the one who plays them i am a performer.” Part of the fight for representation is making sure that all of us get to be represented on screen, not just some of us. In a recent roundtable for The Hollywood Reporter, Justin Simien said “There is an obsession with black tragedy. If you see a black movie... It's people who are enduring these horrible tragedies, or they're saintlike... You know what that says, very subtly? It says that we're not human. Because human beings are multifaceted.” Yup. He totally nails it. 

Representation of POC on screen doesn’t just mean making more heroic Selma-like movies or more tragic 12 Years A Slave-like movies (although both were excellent contributions to film), it means making more roles where POCs are just normal, everyday people. The good news is that the Ghostbusters reboot seems to do just that. Leslie Jones plays an MTA worker! A normal, everyday person! So we’re good, right? This film isn’t racist and yay feminism and let’s just shut up and enjoy the movie, right?!

If your answer was an exasperated ‘yes!’ to that question you are welcome to stop reading. If you are curious about where that question mark can lead us, let’s do this:

The problem isn’t that Leslie Jones plays an MTA employee. She is a brilliant performer who got a great role in a huge studio franchise. (Congratulations, Leslie. I can’t wait to see you kill it up there. Also, MTA employees are the unsung heroes of our daily commute.) The problem is that the only Woman of Color in the entire movie plays an MTA employee. Wanna know the three other roles credited to women of color on the movie’s IMDb page? “Woman,” “Ghost Prostitute,” and “Higgins College Student.” Leslie is likely the only woman of color who gets to talk on screen. Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie reminds us of the dangers of a single story. “The single story creates stereotypes, and the problem with stereotypes is not that they are untrue, but that they are incomplete. They make one story become the only story.” Through no fault of her own, Leslie Jones’ character represents the only story for women of color.

We did it, guys. We sold out the Bowery Ballroom. And instead of giving our viewership to Oscar ad dollars, we raised over $3,000 for the “Made in NY” P.A. Training Program, an initiative that helps low income New Yorkers enter the film industry to ensure a future where the Oscars aren’t #SoWhite. Activism and Entertainment can (and should) go hand in hand. 

A huge thank you to my incredible guests: Naomi Ekperigin, Danielle Henderson, Sean Rameswaram, Franchesca Ramsey, Bowen Yang, and Crissle West. I feel lucky to have shared a stage with them. To the most amazing event manager around, Meg Bashwiner, my husband Todd Clayton, and the wonderful Andrew Morgan. We can’t do it alone you guys, but we can do some truly incredible things together. 

Every Single Word's first live event will be held at The Bowery Ballroom on February 28th. This Oscar viewing party will feature real-time commentary from comedians, writers, and pop culture experts. 100% of the evening's profits will be donated to the "Made in NY" P.A. Training Program that provides low-income New Yorkers the opportunity to establish careers on film sets. 

In response to the second consecutive year of all white acting nominees and a growing awareness of the systemic diversity problem in the film industry, Every Single Word: The Oscars is protest in the form of entertainment. For the price of one 2D movie ticket you can watch the Oscars while benefiting a program that brings the least heard populations into the film industry. 

GUESTS: Franchesca Ramsey (MTV's Decoded; Creator of "Shit White Girls Say to Black Girls"), Danielle Henderson (creator of Feminist Ryan Gosling), Sean Rameswaram (WNYC Host), Crissle West (co-host of The Read; Drunk History), Naomi Ekperigin (writer for Broad City & Difficult People), and Bowen Yang (Broad City). The event will be hosted by Dylan Marron (Welcome to Night Vale; creator of Every Single Word). 

The “Made in NY” PA Training Program is a collaboration between BWI and the New York City Mayor’s Office of Film, Theatre and Broadcasting. Their mission is to give unemployed and low-income New Yorkers the chance to work on New York sets and build careers in this dynamic field. Since the program’s launch in February 2006, BWI has trained over 500 New Yorkers and placed highly-qualified PAs on more than 2,000 productions. Graduates have moved into advanced positions including Assistant Production Office Coordinator, Camera Assistant, Assistant Locations Manager, Grip, Field Producer, Set Decorator, Technical Operator and Unit PAs in sound, wardrobe and more.

#OscarsSoWhite is not new. 

Run time: 54 seconds