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Ethnically Ambiguous

3/22/2013

1 Comment

 
Ethnically Ambiguous has been a hot catch-phrase in commercial and print castings for the past five years or so. Fancy words, but all it means is generally light brown skin color, preferably with a slight almond shape to the eyes. It stems from a profit-driven ad world more desperate to avoid offending anyone than interested in including everyone. A similar trend has gotten a strangle-hold on Hollywood (except only among "supporting players," not the stars driving the film.)

I was thinking about this term today. Thinking about how I kind of do fit into this category, though I don't show it on my skin or physical features. I was raised in a Puerto Rican household in various parts of the United States. I speak two languages fluently, but am left with no specific culture I can comfortably call my own. In a room of white Americans, I am seen as different because I speak Spanish, despite my upbringing in America. ("Exotic" is a term many people use when first meeting me, which really pisses me off: is Palm Beach exotic?).

And in a room full of Puerto Ricans, on the other hand, I am still seen as an outsider because I didn't grow up on the island. I know the places they talk about, and I (mostly) get the cultural references, but I don't have a three dimensional vision, just a fuzzy photograph swimming around my head.

So I am left looking for a cultural home - one beyond the cottages of 19th century American history, where I feel I fit right in. (I have a French friend raised in Utah that describes this same feeling: not welcome in Salt Lake City and not welcome in Paris. He opted for a Ph.D in Classics at Harvard. Sensing a trend?)

I was captivated today by an interview in Filmmaker Magazine with Ava DuVernay about her journey to self-distribute her film Middle of Nowhere. Everything she was saying about marketing "brown films" (her words) and finding an international market for them spoke to me. I was like, "YES! I must get in touch with this woman! I want to learn!" But then it occurred to me: everything she was saying - in fact her company's mission statement - is all about getting African-American films out there. And as well she should; the African-American community needs an trailblazer and champion like her. So I began wondering where I should turn with my film. To the powerful white producers, who may tell me they don't "do" Hispanic films? Or to the Hispanic community, who might not really "get" my film because it may lack standard Hispanic themes? I think that anyone can relate to the movie - and that anyone can relate to me. Why are we dividing ourselves?

                                                                **********

There's this guy at my job who comes every week to empty out the bins for shredding documents. It's my job to take him around to all the floors. He's a really nice guy, lives in New Jersey, loves hockey, and hates the snow. He's also Hispanic. And he is thrilled, gleeful even, whenever I sign the paperwork and he can see that my legal last name is Rodriguez. It's because he thinks I'm one of "them". (I get this a lot as a Puerto Rican living in NYC.) And most of the time it makes me happy to see him happy. But when the mood catches me, I start to think: if we were trapped in a room together, we probably wouldn't have much to talk about. I'm not a ray of sunshine, I don't live in New Jersey, I hate hockey, and I love the snow. All these topics failing, we can always talk about being Hispanic, though, right? At least that's the idea. "La patria, woo-hoo!" But the truth is that beyond my grandmother's stories of San Juan in the '40s, and feeling teary-eyed whenever I hear En Mi Viejo San Juan, I've never really lived there. I don't know what that's like. And truth be told, neither has he.
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The Chicken and the Egg

9/27/2012

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WARNING: THIS MAY BE CONSIDERED CONTROVERSIAL

Last night, I was the unfortunate witness to a Facebook bullying and criticism of my dear cousin's "lifestyle."

He's gay, people, let's just say it, he's openly gay with no regrets. Moving on.

So what happened was he posted something about Chick-fil-A on Facebook, and
another (somewhat estranged) family member started attacking him simply for being gay. This bully was attacking a family member, someone he grew up playing
with as young boys on the island of Puerto Rico.

How did we all get here? Where a family member is attacking another?! At one point, someone said to this gay-hating cousin, "How could you say these things?
You're a minority!" Thing is, he didn't see himself as a minority even though he's Puerto Rican (it's a small island). As a white, heterosexual, Christian male, he considered himself in the majority and with the power to bully "everybody else."

How fascinating. He could not see his own vulnerability and therefore was unable to develop empathy. This man exists in a bubble where he is king and what he says goes.

You usually see this kind of behavior mostly in...well, kings. Or that modern version of royalty, the 1%.

What's funny to me is the reason that the controversial 1% wins so many battles is that they have managed to convince the 99% that they are all separated into a very careful hierarchy of importance. American, white, Christian, heterosexual, male is the highest level in this hierarchy, right? Then deductions follow according to religion, sexual orientation, ethnicity, skin color and sex.

But if you start adding up all the possible minorities - women (ha), Jews, Muslims, Asians, Indians, LGBT, little people, blonds, paraplegics, Irish, Atheists, etc. - you're going to find that the minorities are in the majority. And the reason they get pushed around so much is that they've bought into the "us" versus "them" model that the kings have sold us over the centuries. But instead, if we adopt the "there but for the grace of God go I" model, we become powerful and plentiful and there is no stopping any of us. We will not be bullied, we will not be harassed or marginalized. We will stand together, ALL OF US, and win the war.

This is not just a movie. This is a movement.

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The Gator Swims

4/20/2012

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I realize I've been away for a while, and I do apologize.

I've been busy since the beginning of the year preparing for our shoot that now happens on Monday!  Just three days.  I've taken myself out of the producer role for a few days now as I try to adjust to the actor mentality.  Naturally, drama is going to float downstream and I will catch wind of some of it (especially when the one producer left is my husband).  And as we gain and lose crew...gain and lose cast...gain and lose our sanity like the flowing tides, I have to reflect on how far we've come and what we've been able to do.

We set out two and a half years ago as a small group of intelligent and incredibly capable actors who wanted a little bit more control over their careers.  I had written this script for fun (writing having been a hobby of mine for the past ten years--though now I think it's taken a turn for the more serious), and I suggested we make it on the fly.  I really should have known that with a group of type A personalities, nothing 'on the fly' is going to fly.

The script was about my personal struggle with being a white-skinned actor who was born in Puerto Rico, but had lived in the United States since I was 5.  It was only after college when I became an actor that I began to face obstacles due to my ethnicity because well-intentioned people in the entertainment industry assumed I could only play Hispanic roles. 

Why do I say 'well-intentioned'?  Well, I had agents trying to find where I would best fit in.  They were trying to get me work and saw a burgeoning Latin market.  I had casting directors who were honestly very nice people trying to give a young actor a shot and felt that a Puerto Rican would stand a better shot of being cast in a Hispanic role.  When a manager asked me if I could wear darker foundation, she was sincerely trying to sell me as best she knew how.

Unfortunately, these circumstances caused a deep well of anger to build every time walked into a waiting room for an audition and saw a sea of dark-skinned actors (most of whom weren't even Hispanic) lined up to audition for the latest thug/hooker/maid-of-the-week.  It was anger at the world for what it still is, anger at the circumstances of these actors who had no power over how they're seen, anger at all the people I've ever met who have so thoughtlessly questioned me over the color of my skin because some movie told them exactly what a Hispanic person is supposed to look and act like.

So I went to a coffee shop (mostly Joe's on Columbus and 86th--I was between jobs probably) and wrote down all the ridiculous stories that I had collected having to do with my ethnicity.  I wove them together into a narrative and White Alligator was born.

Fastforward nearly three years and this has now become a torch that we all carry and so many people have been recruited to carry that.  It is no longer a fun project that a bunch of actors are putting together, but rather a Great Hope that if this movie hits mainstream, we can change the world.  We can encourage other projects to do race-blind casting, and we can encourage a lot of people to open their horizons and see that ethnicity really is only skin-deep.  And underneath this silly little layer of epidermis, everybody has the same hopes and dreams and desires.

And all the original players that are still involved and have come with us such a long way on this project now have those same dreams that this will be the project that will open the door so that they can make more significant projects that might change the world in other ways.  And all of this might make us the artists that we were born to be instead of meager players with no say over the course of our lives.

But I guess that's what happens when you put a bunch of type A personalities together and give them a story.  It is now a collective hope.  And I am personally thrilled and inspired to be working with such brilliant, artistic and dedicated warriors.

May we someday (soon) be toasting these very words at Cannes (or some such--like the White House).
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Houston, we have a problem

10/20/2011

2 Comments

 
A friend from San Juan shared the following link with me on Facebook today:
http://tikitikiblog.com/really-you-dont-look-spanish/#axzz1bLdvvbue


Frankly, I was shocked that this woman had had this experience.  Not because I questioned whether it was true, but because I thought I was the only one this happens to on a regular basis.  See, all the rest of my (mostly) white family is in San Juan where skin color and your ability to be Puerto Rican is not questioned.
Growing up in various places in the United States, my mother had to actually train me, like a social graces version of an EMT, on how to handle the situation when a person would tell me, "But you don't look Puerto Rican."  Like a good girl, I was taught to say, "We come in all colors."  We practiced it.  I memorized it.

Now, being an amateur philosopher since birth, I'd like to take all you readers through what goes on in my head when I (still) hear this.

First, I wonder how the person saying this could possibly feel comfortable commenting on the skin color of another person TO HER FACE.  When he/she is presented to a black man or woman, should I expect them to say, "Wow, you're really black, aren't you?"  I mean, what is the cutoff here?  Is it one of those ridiculous societal rules where I'm not qualified to be spared racist comments because I'm white?  On the other hand, I wonder how it would feel if instead of a rude and small-minded comment, I just get an awkward silence where I can actually hear the inner thoughts of the person saying, "Don't mention anything about her being white, don't mention anything about her being white..." as I'm sure many black people experience.  I guess the real question is why the hell do we still care what color skin people have??

After I've taken the person in and wonder what kind of upbringing this person had, I then start to play a few scenarios in my head, along the lines of, "What the hell do I say to this?"  There's always a few options available to me.  I can say, "Yeah, whattya know."  That's the most inoffensive comment toward the other person that I can think of.  It doesn't say anything at all; it's a throw-away line.  However, here's what's wrong with that line: it compromises my reality and my feelings, it doesn't broaden anyone's horizons, and it comes from a place of weakness.  Don't get me wrong, I've likely used it on occasions when I'm just too tired to be open-minded and have to take care of the other person's feelings.  But it's seldom that I use it.  To me, it's like saying, "Yes, massah."  It's bowing down to ignorance to let it pass and flourish.

The other category of options that I can say are along the lines of: "We come in all colors," "Native Spanish-speakers are just like all native English-speakers in that they all look and sound totally different from one another," "Latin America is a very big part of the world, full of all different races and creeds."  Once recently, at a networking event for women CEOs, a woman said to me, "I would never think you were Spanish" (another common one).  I chose to say to her, "Why would you, I spoke perfect American English to you. The thing is, I also have the capability to speak perfect Spanish if I so choose."  I then continued to eat my baby carrot and drink my wine, and waited for a reaction.  I believe her reaction after that actually was, "I would just never think you were Spanish."  I could try to tell myself that she was just drunk, but that would again be leaving room for ignorance to flourish.

The point of all this is that I now ask you to participate: please envision yourself in the shoes of this person to whom I've just told these things.  I do this naturally as an actor; it's rather fun.  It's the "what if" game.  What if you were just told that Latinos come in all colors, and this is a hell of a shock to you?  I can think of a few feelings that I might feel in that position.  Anger and shame are the top ranking emotions.  Anger that this person is calling me ignorant.  Shame that it's true.  Neither of these make for a pleasant first introduction.  You can see how for years, I was quite unpopular at cocktail parties.  Recently, I've developed a method for tackling these most awkward of circumstances that seem to happen a few times a week.  I follow any of the above comments with a hearty laugh.  I've discovered that I have a fabulous infectious laugh that can easily break the ice.  In this way, the other person's feelings aren't hurt. 

But I can't say what kind of toll it takes on me.

Now, just for fun, some excerpts from my life (and these didn't even make it into the movie, which means there's a lot more where these came from!):

1. At my corporate job recently, someone who works in Legal telling me, "You're the whitest Puerto Rican I know."  I'm just gonna leave my comments to that up to your imagination.
2. Meeting one of my husband's best friends for the first time, and her putting on some rap on the radio to make me feel at home.  I requested Chopin.
3. After having a lovely brunch with a few friends who work in academia, I bring up the subject of my film and its story.  My professor friend whom I've known for years says to me, "I didn't know you were Puerto Rican! What are you gonna f*ck me up now?"  He teaches political science at a respectable university.
4. At a Q&A with John Leguizamo, him saying how much he loves to dance because it's in his Latin blood.  Me turning to my husband saying, "I hate salsa.  I prefer ballet.  I need the structure."


5. An agent once telling me when I asked to be submitted to a role on a soap opera: "Sorry, Caucasians only." 

Okay, that last one made it into the screenplay.  Oh my, I've given something away!  Guess you'll just have to see the film for more of my Greatest Hits!
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    Viviana Leo

    Viviana Leo is the writer and star of White Alligator.

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