The Social, Political and Personal Effects of Trans Media as told by Tre’vell Anderson
Queer history is not often what society’s heteronormative lens perceives it to be. Queer history dates back to a time when the word did not exist but people who expressed their truest selves did. Tre’vell Anderson, in their book “We See Each Other: A Black, Trans Journey Through TV and Film” explores their own journey of self-discovery as bookmarked by queer media throughout the ages.
Anderson is a journalist who co-hosts podcasts FANTI and What a Day and advocates for trans visibility through their board position in the National Association of Black Journalists. Their inspiration for “We See Each Other: A Black, Trans Journey Through TV and Film” was a culmination of the questions and comments they had on the history of trans images on the big screen.
The Morning Consult and Trevor Project reported that out of 2,000 American adults polled, only 29% said they know someone who identifies as transgender. Anderson is quick to point out that most people merely believe they haven’t.
Hollywood’s Role
GLAAD has been tracking the presence of trans characters in its annual Where We Are on TV report for many years, noting that in the most recent season of TV analyzed, five percent of characters were openly trans. This represents a higher percentage than the number of openly trans Americans in recent data, meaning that many Americans likely have a better chance of encountering a trans person on TV than in their hometowns.
Many Americans have learned everything they know about the trans community from the media and the trans narratives they feature. Media is still showing transgender individuals in scenes and experiences that are intended to implant the idea that being transgender is synonymous with something “ridiculous, horrible and abhorrent,” as Anderson states. It plays a large role in not just the erasure of trans history but it creates a complacence in audiences where they don’t question these narratives of transgender people that are being constantly perpetuated.
In Anderson’s opinion, films like “Psycho” and “Silence of the Lambs” that show transgender people or people in drag as killers, predators, groomers, and/or criminals promote dangerous ideas to their audiences. They feel that audiences are more inclined to accept seeing trans people on the screen being killed because, subconsciously, they do not value the lives of these characters as they might other characters in the story.
However, Anderson points to the people who spearheaded trans visibility in media: Candis Cayne - the first transgender actress to play a recurring transgender character on the primetime show, Dirty Sexy Money, Chaz Bono - whose transitioning journey was highlighted in the documentary, Becoming Chaz, and was screened at the 2011 Sundance Film Festival and appeared on the Oprah Winfrey Network, and Laverne Cox - the first transgender person to be nominated for a Primetime Emmy Award and who later won a Daytime Emmy Award for being an executive producer on “Laverne Cox Presents: The T Word.”
Political Backlash
Despite this progress, Anderson explains how they, in their book and in their life, see trans visibility as a double-edged sword. While this visibility is impactful in portraying the trans community in a complex and positive manner, it also places a spotlight on the community that can be exploited to stoke fear, political action, and in some cases, violence.
Supporting the trans community has become highly politically charged. It is all too common for conservative social media users to post angry messages about listing personal pronouns or for conservative parents to appear on the news complaining about trans athletes competing against their children. Legislatively, this culture of outrage has resulted in laws over who can use which bathroom, bans on gender-affirming care, and even the regulation of speech surrounding LGBTQ+ issues in schools. These harmful policies dehumanize trans people, deny them basic human rights, and send a message that how trans people express themselves is intolerable.
Even before the term transgender existed, people who identified as such were present. In these instances, the lack of language perhaps offered them some reprieve from the hatred transgender people experience today. Anderson points out people like Marsha P. Johnson - who wasn’t calling herself a transgender woman - and Slyvester James Jr. - who wasn’t identifying with today’s terms like gender non-conforming or non-binary but was still expressing oneself in an androgynous manner. Now language is being weaponized by people who are too narrow-minded or hateful to expand their words and perspectives.
Supporting the Trans Community
Anderson’s book, “How We See Each Other” is an essential resource in not only understanding the good and bad ways that transgender people have been represented in the media overtime, but also what storytellers should be doing to support the trans community when they need it most. Within its pages, Anderson encourages everyone to look at what content they are consuming and employ that awareness to create a safer environment for trans people in everyday life.
While there exist people whose only intention is to erase and diminish, to tell the transgender community who they can and cannot be, Anderson preaches a brave and earnest freedom that has been the antidote to all of this hatred.
The conditioning that says your autonomy and freedom should be stifled or that you are confined to the box that society has placed you in based on the gender you were assigned at birth is rightfully being broken with this proud way of thinking and existing.
Media corporations and people in society as a greater whole can all contribute by starting simply with looking at their own actions and beliefs. Anderson urges everyone to look inside themselves and recognize whether they are creating a safe space for trans people in their local communities. Whether you know or not that you are coming in contact with a transgender person, there should be an inherent respect and safe intention in everyone’s actions.
For Anderson that means fighting back on transphobic jokes, asking employers if the insurance offers gender-affirming care, advocating for gender neutral bathrooms in communities or any other small but impactful step you can take locally.
In the film industry, this means working to create more opportunities for transgender people to find jobs and find fame simply by being who they are.
These are institutional changes that society should make to broaden the scope of knowledge and human experience that the media is showing but more than that, it starts with a single person’s actions.
For Anderson, they believe that if there had been this education and awareness of transgender communities when they were growing up, they could have had an entirely different experience, one that they are hoping young transgender people can finally have today.
This bittersweet provocation proves the importance of enriching society with more culturally component resources and education and not allowing the erasure of entire communities from history.
This issue of trans-visibility and trans-violence is not just an issue for the moment. It is something to consider and combat everyday through education, compassion and practiced acts of inclusion. Storytellers and filmmakers can use their platforms to create more content that inspires audiences who, like Anderson, struggled to see themselves reflected in the media. Writers and journalists can tell the stories of individuals who are queer and can accurately comment on the experiences they face. It is the responsibility of creators and consumers alike to increase visibility with everyday small but important actionable changes.
Wonder Woman 1984: When Lack of Diversity Makes Wonder Woman Lose Her Wonder
If you were to ask the typical moviegoer who is the first female superhero you think of, chances are they would say Wonder Woman. While other female superheroes do exist (say Catwoman or Storm for example), they often take a backseat to the male protagonist, serving as a romantic interest or cliche rather than as a nuanced, complicated character. So when Wonder Woman came out in 2017, it provided a much-needed breath of fresh air in an overly saturated male-centric superhero genre. Seeing Princess Diana in her native land with her sister warriors of Themyscira by her side inspired millions of girls around the world, telling them that they too could be the heroes of their own story.
But while Wonder Woman (2017) pushed the boundaries of representation and diversity forward, its sequel, Wonder Woman 1984, failed to break new ground, sacrificing the empowering plot of its predecessor for empty spectacle. And the consequences were considerable. While Wonder Woman (2017) boasted a B Mediaversity rating, 93% critic score on Rotten Tomatoes, and 76 Metascore, Wonder Woman 1984 suffered from a measly C- Mediversity rating, 59% critic score on Rotten Tomatoes, and 60 Metascore. So what went wrong?
Where Wonder Woman 1984 Went Wrong
The film opens with a breathtaking flashback sequence, showing a pivotal moment in the life of young Diana, years before she’d become Wonder Woman. As she competes against fellow Amazons twice her size and age in feats of strength and skill, a perfect euphony of swift camerawork, quick editing, and an epic score fills the screen. The scene showcases Diana’s fearlessness and teaches her the virtue that truth triumphs over deception. Unfortunately, the rest of the film pales in comparison, whether it be in visual cohesion, story structure, or emotional impact.
To start things off, the film treats Barbara, Diana’s coworker at the Smithsonian Institution, as a two-dimensional plot device that reduces her to the strange girl trope. The two bond over a meal discussing how they fit in society, but beside that, Barbara’s role in the film becomes apparent: so Diana can have a big (poorly rendered) CGI fight with a physically imposing antagonist in the third act that seemingly every superhero film has. Considering the lack of nuanced female friendships in superhero films, it’s a shame that the screenwriters favored a heterosexual romance with Steve Trevor rather than exploring a potential relationship between Diana and Barbara, especially given that Wonder Woman is canonically bisexual in the comics. This was a perfect opportunity to represent the LGBTQ+ community that has been historically underrepresented, particularly within the superhero genre.
Instead, the film relies on what we are used to in superhero films, a heteronormative relationship in which the superhero’s purpose is based on their partner. Romance has the potential to be resonating and meaningful, but in Wonder Woman 1984, it feels forced and undeserved, especially given the context of how Steve sacrificed himself in Wonder Woman (2017). Diana’s abilities are regained only when she learns to let go of Steve, and there’s something deeply depressing and illogical about a female superhero whose identity is intertwined so much with a man that she is willing to lose her powers for him. Also, what is going on with the man whose body has been magically overtaken by Steve? Does he have a family or a job? Is he in the white man’s sunken place? Doesn’t Diana, who is supposed to be a beacon of truth and morality, find the notion of Steve inhabiting another man’s body problematic? The plot could have focused on this as the consequence of Diana’s wish, as it would have been much more thematically resonating for her to struggle with choosing her moral code over her love for Steve.
And that begs another question, why doesn’t Diana miss her Amazon sisters or her mentor who inspired her to believe in truth in the opening scene? Wonder Woman (2017) devoted the entire first act to the Amazons, portraying them as warriors, politicians, caregivers, and complex women with nuanced relationships. It set the standard for a feminist plot that didn’t pander to its audience but empowered them. The sequel would have benefitted from furthering this story arc by venturing deeper into Paradise Land, home of the Amazons of Themyscira. Instead, it takes place in a mostly white D.C., even though the city has been majority-Black since the 1950s and white residents made up just 26% of the population in 1984. It also relies on a banal plot device in a stone that can grant wishes, which seems more like a lazy deus ex-machina. rather than something original and exciting. Diana’s wish doesn’t cause a chain of events that lead to her losing her powers, they just magically disappear as a tradeoff for the sake of the plot and theme.
Lastly, I want to talk about the theme of the film: truth. Wonder Woman 1984 bashes the viewer in the head with this theme through dialogue that lacks subtlety and relies heavily on telling the audience rather than showing them. Its connection with the main plot seems incoherent at worst and passable at best, reducing the complex issue of longing for what you don’t have into something that is black and white (reminiscent of Kendall Jenner “solving racism” by handing a police officer a Pepsi) rather than addressing class differences and social/economic inequality. Barbara wants to be cool and confident so that she can become likable, but must stay a nerd because if she wishes to be like Diana then she becomes a cheetah? That just seems cruel and anti-feminist. And the film’s solution of Diana magically convincing the entire world to stop being greedy over the span of a painfully ignorant monologue was as tone-deaf as when Gal Gadot sang “Imagine.” The world may be beautiful if you’re a gorgeous Amazon superhero, but for most people, telling people to put rose-colored glasses over their terrible situation is patronizing. I’m sure the filmmakers’ intentions were in the right place, but the execution of the theme was mediocre and is obviously pandering to today’s political climate, sacrificing its authenticity in the process.
Why It Matters
You might be thinking, why do all of these things matter, can’t Wonder Woman 1984 solely be based on entertainment value? While I would argue the film doesn’t even meet that quota, we as a society cannot settle for mediocrity. And from a financial standpoint, there is a great benefit to having authentically inclusive representation. Yes, there is content that represents underrepresented communities in a profound way, but there’s still a huge room for improvement before we can get complacent. Very few films have the audience and reach that the Wonder Woman banner has, which is why it’s so important that the film, along with movies that have similar platforms, empower underrepresented communities instead of kicking them to the curb. Yes, there will be bumps and bruises along the way, but that’s to be expected with generational long-lasting change. The late great novelist James Baldwin put it best, “Not everything that is faced can be changed, but nothing can be changed until it is faced.” Take risks as creatives and challenge the status quo, and then just maybe Wonder Woman can have a shot at getting back her wonder.
Actionable Insights
Take tests like the Race in Entertainment Media (R.E.M.) Test to help evaluate Authentically Inclusive Representation in your content.
Use your platform to empower underrepresented communities instead of avoiding them in your film.
Hire more women and POC in behind-the-scenes positions who can incorporate their lived experience into the plot, otherwise, their characters’ storylines may lack authenticity or even be depicted as raceless.
Write characters that defy both negative and positive stereotypes to help prevent prejudice and discrimination.
Showcase stories that are authentically diverse, as meaningful representation consists of more than simply casting women and people of color.
CSS Intern
Disclaimer: The views, thoughts, and opinions expressed in this blog belong solely to the author, and do not necessarily reflect the views of the Center for Scholars & Storytellers.
Flip the Script: Why It’s Time to Combat Gender Stereotypes of Boys
“I’m glad we’ve begun to raise our daughters more like our sons but it will never work unless we start to raise our sons more like our daughters.” Gloria Steinem
Did you know that 63% of men believe they are encouraged to seize sex whenever they can? The messages we send our boys are confusing and can result in grave misunderstandings, even among the best intentioned. The heterosexual script, a concept established in social science, plays out in real life AND plays out on screen, even in 2018.
Men Want Sex/ Women set limits
Men attract women through power/ Women attract men through sexiness
Men avoid commitment/ Women seek it
We pass on these gender stereotypes without recognizing our unconscious contribution to the formulaic scripts. And media outranks schools and parents as being sources of sex for young people.
By showing characters that don’t play into the stereotypes, our boys can embrace all sides of themselves. Here are some research based ideas on how to balanced gender roles for characters of all ages.
Show boys and girls playing together because boys who have female friends are less likely to think of girls as sexual conquests.
Show “tough” male characters being sensitive because role models are important, particularly for boys.
Show boys doing housework. Girls still do 2 hours more than boys a week.
Show girls making the first move, romantically and sexually, boys talking about love and girls buying flowers for boys.
It’s time to flip the script.
Yalda T. Uhls, Ph.D.
Founder and Executive Director of The Center for Scholars & Storytellers