How LGBTQ Representation in Media Fails Us
With recent media like Heartstopper and Bros receiving praise for their “diversity,” one has to wonder how the public defines that word. While LGBTQ storylines are no doubt lacking, queer white men continue to dominate television and film, oftentimes serving as our only representation and pillars of the community. This is not diversity — it’s a facade that maintains whiteness.
GLAAD’s 2021-2022 report on representation in television recorded that representation of LGBTQ characters of color has yet to surpass 50% on streaming services and decreased on cable networks from last year. Meanwhile, the prevalence of queer and trans characters of color on broadcast reached a high of 58%. But these percentages split between several racial groups, so these communities are still not seeing representation equal to that of white LGBTQ people.
More representation also doesn’t equal good representation. The GLAAD report highlights those who are regular characters but does not specify the level of their role. Rarely are queer and trans people of color (QTPOC) main characters in media. Shows like Heartstopper and Tales of the City push white LGBTQ people to the forefront but situate QTPOC as side characters. By relegating us to the sidelines, our stories are deemed inferior to those of white people. We are not afforded proper screen time to see storylines that are developed, preventing understanding of ourselves and our community.
In the recent LGBTQ romantic comedy Bros, none of the Black or brown queer characters have substantial speaking time, let alone fleshed out plots — we are props used for diversity points. The movie continuously focuses on Bobby Lieber’s (Billy Eichner) whiteness but never acknowledges or illustrates how this benefits him. The opposite happens, in fact; like many white queer people, Lieber acts as he pleases and never recognizes his place in the world outside of his privileged bubble.
The movie opens with him explaining that his podcast is called The Eleventh Brick at Stonewall because “a butch lesbian or a trans woman of color probably threw the first brick at Stonewall, but it was a cis white gay man who threw the 11th brick.” Towards the end of the film, after Lieber engaged in a raging fit and almost destroyed a room of the museum he was curating, one of his only Black coworkers says they forgive him before Lieber even apologizes. Space was made for a white character at the expense of a Black character who received no development throughout the movie. White people continuously put themselves before people of color, thus disrespecting those characters and leaving viewers of color more susceptible to feeling like white people are always supposed to come first. This harmful tactic perpetuates a larger issue. The film may have had a predominantly LGBTQ cast — a fact Eichner made sure to broadcast when marketing the film — but with all white writers, producers and a director, it’s no surprise Bros failed its characters of color.
Other LGBTQ movies such as My Policeman, Booksmart, and Happiest Season also push QTPOC to the background or don’t have characters with those identities. Booksmart even fetishizes and belittles East Asian people as one of the main characters uses a stuffed animal panda named Ling Ling to repeatedly m*sturbate. These scenes contribute to the hypersexualization of East Asian women — an already damaging stereotype that also labels them submissive.
When media centered around white LGBTQ people and couples — Call Me By Your Name, Feel Good, and Schitt’s Creek — receive praise and accolades for their representation, it’s easy for QTPOC to feel like our stories don’t matter when the most popular and acclaimed shows and movies about our community don’t feature us. The lack of relatable content for us only adds to the isolation we already feel as people with multiple marginalized identities.
Considering LGBTQ people of color face higher rates of discrimination compared to our white counterparts, this minimal representation reveals another way queer and trans people of color are treated unfairly. Having to watch ourselves be sidelined and objectified after experiencing these hardships first hand is detrimental to our self-confidence and mental health.
If media has the power to educate and influence people, how will these depictions of queer and trans people of color affect viewers? Not only will white people learn inaccurate information about a group of people they already hold power over, but people of color will continue to face discomfort, alienation and gaslighting. Media should not just offer comfort and portrayal for individuals of certain identities.
Even when queer and trans people of color are main characters, it isn’t often that our stories receive the same treatment as our white counterparts. 2018 thriller series Killing Eve followed Eve Polastri (Sandra Oh), a Korean MI5 analyst, developing an intense relationship with assassin Villanelle (Jodie Comer). Despite Polastri being the main character — the show is named for her, after all — the drama slowly started focusing on her white love interest. This doesn’t come as a surprise once one learns the writer’s room for season three — where Polastri really starts to be sidelined as evidenced by an entire episode that doesn’t include her — was entirely white. Oh was failed by her crew, and the fact that she is an established actress and was an executive producer on the show only reinforces the severity of this problem.
She mentioned in an interview with Kerry Washington how she was the only Asian woman on set and the one who suggested to the showrunner that her character be shown on a moped in Cambodia. She also talks about the “slow process that I have been on my entire life — how to bring Asian American identity” into her performances. It’s important to note that the character she plays is based on one from a few novellas called Codename Villanelle by Luke Jennings, where Oh doesn’t “remember him really describing Eve and her race, but I could tell that, for me, my perception was — my projection was — that she was white.”
Oh shouldn’t have to be doing all the heavy lifting. It is exhausting and unfair that the onus is placed on her to ask that her race is incorporated into the script. For people of color, our race always plays a role, but it should not be up to us to educate others and make room for ourselves. It seems the all-white writer’s room for Killing Eve wasn’t aware of that.
These instances make one wonder if white people in the industry are only hiring actors of color for the sake of diversity. This year’s breakout coming of age show Heartstopper — based on graphic novels written by Alice Oseman, a white woman — features Elle Argent (Yasmin Finney), a Black trans girl, whose race and gender are rarely, if ever, talked about. Heartstopper had the perfect opportunity to illustrate intersectionality. Elle’s Blackness and transness aren’t just a part of her but affect and interact with one another. Without an authentic, complex storyline, Elle feels like a character added in for surface level diversity.
This is not to say her storyline or others’ about LGBTQ people of color should just be about the racism and trauma we face. We deserve media that provides an escape. Especially during a time when Black trans women face heightened discrimination, genuine representation can offer solace and necessary visibility. Like Bros, these medias highlight the importance of not just on-screen representation but diversity behind the camera.
The erasure and sexualization of QTPOC in the media — especially while centering and uplifting white LGBTQ people — keeps us isolated, insecure, and uncomfortable. This trend cannot continue for the sake of our community. Our lives deserve recognition and respect, but only representing a fraction of the community does not allow for this. Bringing diverse voices into the writer's room, pushing LGBTQ people of color to the forefront of media, and incorporating our identities into narratives are necessary for meaningful depictions.
So which stories get to be told? Right now, not many.
