Artwork by Siri Raghunayakula
As I write more and more college essays about myself, I have discovered that I have been changing my narrative for college applications. I find myself subconsciously changing my story and culture to fit a Western audience that college admissions officers would understand.
As I write more, I am confronted by the question: am I sacrificing too much or not enough to be more relatable to a greater audience? This isn’t limited to just essays and writing, but also to the way I talk and what I talk about. I modify my interests and what I am passionate about according to the person I talk to, so I could be accepted by more. This mindset happens subconsciously and is taught by society in whispered but steady voices. It is part of the pressure that every person of color faces to conform. To be quirky and unique, but not too much that it differentiates or becomes uncomfortable or pushes the boundary too far. To have Asian roots and a rich cultural background, but not to bring “stinky” food to lunch.
And it’s not just about college.
I was overjoyed when I recently heard about the Broadway production of Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge, one of the most well-known Bollywood movies. I was happy that along with the cast on Broadway, the stories were becoming more representative and diverse. Growing up in India, I loved DDLJ. I could (and still can) lip-sync to most songs and scenes in the movie. My joy was subdued when I heard that Raj, the protagonist who is disapproved of by the heroine’s father, would be White. The reason behind this change: profits. The producers wanted to reach a greater audience and an all-Indian cast wouldn’t do that, now, would it? They appropriated the story, modifying a tale that every Indian child grew up watching and that has passed the test of time after being released more than 26 years ago.
What happens when roles are reversed and originally White characters become of a different race? This issue was at the heart of the controversy that erupted after Disney released its teaser for the live-action remake of the beloved movie The Little Mermaid featuring a Black actress as Ariel, a caucasian redhead in the original 1989 animated film.
Even though it’s nice to see representation for all the little girls out there who grew up watching White princesses, changing the race of the characters isn’t the solution to tackle a startling lack of representation. We need more diverse stories from the start. We need more diverse characters like Mulan, Tiana, and Moana, instead of modifying the race of another character in an attempt to appear more inclusive.
This controversy made me question what I had been pondering while writing my essays: are we becoming a multicultural accepting society if our stories still have to be altered to fit a “greater audience” (which I found out to be a non-offensive way to say a Western audience) or if we need to artificially alter the race of a character, instead of having more diverse stories?
To me, these issues are a testament that our fight for greater representation isn’t over.
Now, as I sit with the dim light of my desk lamp illuminating my computer screen, I delete the paragraph I had written and make space for my story — the authentic one.