Does The Celebration Of "Firsts" Really Promote Diversity and Inclusion?

From left to right: JaNae Collins, Lily Gladstone, Cara Jade Myers, and Jillian Dion in Killers of the Flower Moon. (Credits: Entertainment Weekly)

John Herrington (Chickasaw). Jim Thorpe (Sac & Fox/Potawatomi). Deb Haaland (Pueblo de Laguna). Can you guess what those three people have in common? All three of them were the first Native U.S. Americans to accomplish a particular feat. Respectively, those firsts include visiting space, winning an Olympic gold medal, and becoming a White House cabinet secretary member. Recently, Lily Gladstone (Blackfeet/Nez Perce) achieved another first. She is the first Native U.S. American to earn a “Best Actress” Oscar nomination for the movie Killers of the Flower Moon.

It is important to note that many U.S. sources have named Gladstone as the first Native American actress to be nominated in that category. However, the “U.S.” between Native and American is included because the label “America” originated to encompass all of North and South America, not just the U.S. Factoring that in, the first Native American to be nominated in the “Best Actress” category is actually Yalitza Aparicio (Mixtec/Triqui) from Mexico. She earned that nomination for Roma in 2019. Some online users highlighted that fact and considered Aparicio’s exclusion an act of erasure.

Although, neither Gladstone nor Aparicio is the first Indigenous woman to be nominated in the “Best Actress” category. That title goes to Merle Oberon. Oberon, the first Asian nominee in that category, was also part Māori. However, she spent her career passing as a non-mixed White woman to hide her Asian ancestry. The second Indigenous woman nominated for “Best Actress” was Keisha Castle-Hughes (Māori), who achieved it in 2004 with the movie Whale Rider. She was also the youngest “Best Actress” nominee ever at the time before Quvenzhané Wallis was nominated at nine years old for Beasts of the Southern Wild in 2013.

It’s important to note that “Indigenous” and “Native” are often used interchangeably in the U.S. However, anyone of an Indigenous group from any country is an Indigenous person. The “American” and “Indigenous” labels show that the U.S. construct of identity is not universal. The categorizations also provoke an imperative question: what does it mean to celebrate “firsts?'' And does the celebration of “firsts” really promote diversity and inclusion? 

To start, it should be clear that Gladstone’s nomination is commemorable. Her being the second Native American nominee and the fourth Indigenous nominee in the “Best Actress” category does not negate the significance of her nomination. And as the first Native U.S. American nominee, it is historic, given Hollywood’s anti-Native history. Many people showed their anti-Nativeness in 1973 after Sacheen Littlefeather’s (Apache/Yapui) speech at the Oscars. After Marlon Brando sent her to decline his “Best Actor” Oscar in protest of anti-Nativeness in Hollywood, Littlefeather faced anti-Native abuse and ostracization from the entertainment industry. The Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences sent Littlefeather an apology nearly half a century later and held an event in her honor shortly before her death.

Generally, it is easy to think that achieving “firsts” signifies fewer barriers to entry for marginalized individuals in the future. That’s not exactly true. While “firsts'' can bring positive visibility to a marginalized group, what happens afterward? When will the “seconds,” “thirds,” and “fourths” occur? Does having a “first” lead to tangible change anyway? In an Entertainment Weekly interview, Gladstone says, “It’s circumstantial that I’m the first, and I’m so very grateful. I just know that I’m not going to be the last, not by a long shot.” She’s right. She should not be the last Native U.S. American to be nominated. That said, Native representations should not be contingent on a few Native individuals “breaking in.” They should be granted by default, regardless of their level of recognition.

When looking closely at the headlines about “firsts,” you may notice a particular trend. After someone becomes the first of a particular group to accomplish something, they’re lauded as having “broken barriers.” Their accomplishment is celebrated as “a win for representation,” a case for stories about a particular group “finally being in demand,” and as proof that kids from a specific group “can do it too.” Those sentiments come from an earnest place, but they make the worth of marginalized creators contingent on appealing to outsiders. That contingency embodies respectability narratives, narratives that appeal to the dominant group’s perceptions of “respectability.”

You might be thinking, what is wrong with being respectable? What is wrong with finally being in demand or proving that little kids can do something? Well, it is not that being respectable is a bad thing per se. The problem is that the notion of “respectability” makes the oppressed, not the oppressors, responsible for the oppression they face. While the oppressed are expected to change themselves for the oppressive status quo, the oppressive status quo itself remains intact. 

As for the concept of “being in demand,” to say such about a particular group’s stories does not do much to tackle discrimination in Hollywood. All it does is promote tokenism, narrow views of success, and dismiss already-existing art from said group. Also, “wins for representation” haven’t translated to more diverse stories or creator demographics in reality. What messages might that send to the little kids who don’t feel adequately represented in the media?

Furthermore, respectability narratives foster competition against marginalized creators. That competition hinders diversity efforts more than helps them, as it reinforces the idea that only 1 or 2 marginalized individuals can succeed in a particular space. Those few marginalized individuals are often more harshly criticized than their non-marginalized counterparts. Even those who “technically” pass the respectability test are subject to harsh criticism. As Emily Chen and Jenny Dorsey wrote in Studio ATAO’s “Understanding… Respectability Politics” article, “Because the rules of respectability are constantly subject to change, the dominant group can consistently ensure marginalized groups never meet every facet of these rules.” When it seems like oppressive barriers are starting to be dismantled, the oppressors often change respectability standards so that those barriers are never really dismantled. It’s a dysfunctional cycle that sends demoralizing, discriminatory messages to the oppressed.

The thing about respectability politics is that it promotes the invisibility and hypervisibility of marginalized groups. For example, Native Peoples have faced invisibility in that they are treated as peoples from the past. Their experiences with oppression are ignored, and they are treated as a monolith. In addition, Native Peoples have faced hypervisibility in the form of stereotypes, which have shown up in Westerns and movies such as Pocahontas, The Lone Ranger, and Peter Pan. That paradox rigidly portrays them as both existing and nonexistent, which causes Nativecentric stories to not receive the same endorsement as Whitecentric stories. Also, stories that center the racial trauma of Natives and other POC are privileged for White audiences to feel “enlightened” on social injustices, whether those feelings are of sympathy, pity, anger, or of a story being a “necessary” one. It sounds innocent to say that a story is “necessary,” but be careful. It’s one that can promote the visibility paradox, put limits on art interpretations, and put pressure on creators to confine themselves in a box.

A controversy that exemplifies the invisibility/hypervisibility paradox surrounds Gladstone’s movie: Killers of the Flower Moon. Some Natives, including those of the Osage Nation, applauded it for bringing visibility to the financially and racially motivated murders of the Osage women. Other Natives criticized it for centering a White man’s perspective and being a reminder of racial trauma—the racial trauma reminder igniting hypervisibility. Devery Jacobs (Mohawk) of Reservation Dogs praised Gladstone for her performance but critiqued the movie’s handling of the subject matter. She said on an X/Twitter thread, “Contrarily, I believe that by showing more murdered Native women on screen, it normalizes the violence committed against us and further dehumanizes our people.” She also mentioned that the Osage characters lacked depth and that their deaths were not shown with dignity. Gladstone validated Jacobs’ criticism and knew that some Natives would not want to watch Killers of the Flower Moon due to its traumatic content. “See it when and only if you feel ready, and see it with people you feel safe with,” she said on social media.

While Reservation Dogs and Rutherford Falls are two Nativecentric shows that have gained notoriety, White perspectives are still privileged over Native perspectives. Joel Robinson (Osage) emphasized that reality by stating to The New York Times, “In the current Hollywood system, there’s no shot that the studio would come in and be like, ‘Oh you’re Osage, do you want to make this movie? Here’s $200 million.’” Some might say that the budget is high because of Martin Scorsese’s immense fame and acclaim, not because of racism. As Gladstone herself sees it, she hopes that an Osage director could one day be granted a $200 million budget for a movie. Until Osage and other Native directors get that massive budget, however, she believes that “there’s a level of allyship that’s absolutely necessary.”

To Scorsese’s credit, he included Osage people in the production team of Killers of the Flower Moon. He listened to their stories, exercised sensitivity to their history, and even significantly revised the movie’s script. Even so, Scorsese still benefits from White privilege. With that privilege, he could be as inclusive or exclusive of Osage people as he wanted to be, and either way, the mass media would still praise his movie. It was not going to center the Osage people in the beginning, which incites a valid critique of “allyship.” “Allyship” often centers the comfort levels of outsiders and doesn’t result in anti-oppressive change. Yes, historical events need to be unearthed somehow. But if the marginalized group in question is not centered and is not granted the autonomy to unpack their traumas, that will not result in justice and liberation for them. An antiracist move would have occurred if Scorsese had transferred the $200 million budget to an Osage director for them to film their own movie. Then again, his vision of diversity and inclusion probably does not include that radical power transfer. And even if he were to try doing so, Apple would probably withdraw funding for the movie by citing “internal/scheduling conflicts.” They would make that excuse to mask their anti-Nativeness and unwillingness to fund an Osage director. That shows how ingrained White supremacy is in Hollywood. And it is no wonder why Native representation in Hollywood is so dismal.

The Annenberg Inclusion Initiative at the University of Southern California specializes in publishing research about demographics in the entertainment industry. Alongside Dr. Stacy L. Smith, the Initiative published a report about Native representation there in October 2023. It found that across 1,600 films from 2007-2022 (representing the top 100 films each year), only one contained a Native lead character. That character was Dani Moonstar of The New Mutants, played by Blu Hunt (Apache/Lakota). 

Dr. Smith and the AII also analyzed 62,224 speaking characters across those 1,600 films and found that only 133 of those characters were Native U.S. Americans. Even then, Native actors only played 99 of those roles, and those 99 were played by 64 actors, all from the U.S. or Canada. Those dismal numbers intersect with gender as well: 45 of the 64 Native actors were men, while the other 19 were women. None of them were non-binary. In addition, only 15 of the 64 Native actors appeared in more than one of the 1,600 films. 13 were men, and the other two were women. The two women were Julia Jones, who appeared in 4 films, and Alex Rice, who appeared in 3.

It should be noted that the speaking character analysis does not include Kānaka Maoli (Native Hawaiian) characters or Native characters from other countries in The Americas. Nevertheless, Hollywood must pass its clapperboards to Native creators and grant them creative autonomy. Even if it seems “risky” to the executives, the benefits of anti-oppression far outweigh any “risks” they think of. Will they get that radical, though? Consider that Killers of the Flower Moon is critically acclaimed and garnered Gladstone a Golden Globe for Best Performance by a Female Actor in a Motion Picture — Drama. Even so, its budget remains greater than its earnings. The movie has made a little over $156.8 million as of February 17, 2024—representing a $43.2 million deficit. 

That deficit is large enough to call Killers of the Flower Moon a box office flop, although Leonardo DiCaprio’s presumed salary of $40 million is almost identical. At the end of the day, Hollywood’s ulterior motive is to make money. DiCaprio and Scorsese will continue getting acting and directing opportunities. Still, Hollywood executives might look at Killers of the Flower Moon’s numbers and tell Native creators, “Look, your stories sound great. But unfortunately, we do not have the room in our budget to support your projects.” Those same executives will invest tens of millions of dollars into White creators even after their money-losing projects flop, however.

Ultimately, do “firsts” promote diversity and inclusion? Without dismantling barriers and allowing all types of representations, the answer is no. Celebrating superlatives often causes people to ignore the injustices that still exist in the entertainment industry. Instead of tangibly working to dismantle structural barriers, they pit several marginalized creators against each other and force them to represent entire groups. Even amongst the marginalized creators themselves, they may step over each other while seeking widespread validation. 

Diversity and inclusion do not occur by electing a few individuals to represent an entire group. Nor do they occur by censoring marginalized creators who do not fit into respectability standards. Diversity and inclusion occur by amplifying a wide range of stories, whether they center oppressive trauma or not. Of course, not all representations are good representations. That said, it is okay for representations to be flawed and imperfect. To expect all of them to be “perfect” and not be flawed reinserts respectability politics. A problem already discussed as being a barrier to diversity and inclusion.

Speaking of which, Hollywood can start its anti-oppression journey by treating diversity and inclusion as relational concepts. In other words, Hollywood executives should be invested in diversity and inclusion for substantial purposes, not tokenistic purposes. In addition to that, they need to not purely “reform” their practices. They need to transform themselves via the dismantlement of oppressive practices. Because Hollywood is not broken, as reform would insist. It is working as designed by White supremacist powers. Reformations within White supremacist systems are not enough to dismantle barriers. Transformations that smash White supremacy to pieces are the ways forward. Hollywood can become an affirming, liberating environment for Native and other creators of color, but only if it is willing to transform itself radically.