Least Diverse Oscars Produced Most Statements On Diversity

Ava DuVernay deserved a Best Director nod for "Selma."

One of the least diverse Oscar ceremonies produced what is perhaps the most amount of statements about diversity.

"We're here to honor the best and the whitest," host Neil Patrick Harris quipped in the number that opened last night's Oscar telecast.

Much has been made about the fact that this year's list of nominees is the least diverse since the late '90s. But interestingly enough, several winners made statements about diversity.

Best Song winners John Legend and Common spoke eloquently about the mass incarceration of African-American males and the struggle for freedom around the world, Best Supporting Actress Patricia Arquette commented on the need for women's pay equity, and Best Director winner Alejandro González Iñárritu, who is Mexican, spoke about the importance of treating immigrants with respect.

While these comments garnered much-deserved applause, they did not eliminate the need for more diversity in the nomination process. It's not only that people of color are seldom nominated. It's that when they are nominated, it's often for roles that reinforce stereotypes. There are very few Oscar-nominated movies that show people of color in our full, three-dimensional complexity.

The backlash over the relative snub of the historical epic "Selma" is encouraging in the sense that at least a lot of people recognize that this excellent movie deserved more than its only two nominations for Best Picture and Best Song. Director Ava DuVernay absolutely deserved to make history as the first African-American woman nominated for Best Director.

And while David Oyelowo and Carmen Ejogo certainly should have been nominated for their dignified, nuanced portrayals of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and Coretta Scott King, there are many other talented actors of color who were overlooked this year.

Why wasn't Oscar Isaac nominated for Best Actor for "A Most Violent Year"? If ever there was a positive portrayal of a Hispanic male, this is it. In his lead role as the owner of a fuel company battling rival suppliers, the Guatemalan-Cuban actor exudes strength, integrity and loyalty to his family and his employees.

Oscar Isaac was overlooked for Best Actor.

In fact, Isaac's character in "A Most Violent Year" is almost one-dimensional in how straight-laced his character is: an ethical businessman, a devoted family man, a bilingual Latino who embraces his roots yet is so patriotic that he chastises one of his Latino employees to speak English.

There are very few movies in which a Hispanic actor whose nickname isn't "J.Lo" carries a movie, and Isaac does it brilliantly. He brings to mind a young Al Pacino or Andy Garcia - and yet, he was also snubbed by the Academy.

Will African Americans, Hispanics and other people of color ever get to the place where we can be recognized for stories that don't deal with racial issues or crime?

"Tonight... we celebrate the power of film as a universal language that connects and unites the human spirit," said Academy President Cheryl Boone Isaacs, who, ironically, is an African-American woman.

This is an ideal to keep aspiring to.

To Achieve Mainstream Success, Should Black Writers Try To 'Pass' ?

Life's happy little accidents are always intriguing. One of these interesting coincidences happened to me recently when I decided to read Nella Larsen's classic Harlem Renaissance novel "Passing."

I came across this book by chance. Having recently realized that I hadn't read a novel in a long time - only biographies and other nonfiction - I made a New Year's resolution to read more fiction (which I described in an earlier blog post).

Around the beginning of the year, I Googled "classics that are short" and came across a list of critically acclaimed novels under 200 pages. With Black History Month coming up, I figured "Passing" would be the perfect selection.

This 1929 novella is a real page-turner and feels like an amazingly modern tale, despite the plot about an upper-middle-class black woman accidentally running into an old friend who has been passing for white. 

Rather than some kind of heavy-handed morality tale about the dangers of hiding who you are, "Passing" feels more like a contemporary thriller or a dark Edgar Allan Poe story about a woman being haunted by a spirit from her past who has a deadly secret.

After finishing the breezy read on Feb. 8, I posted about it on Facebook, recommending friends and family to check it out if they hadn't already. Just a few days after my Facebook post, I came across an article that mentions "Passing" on, of all places, the Latino news site Fusion.net. The interesting thing is, I wasn't seeking out information on "Passing"; I was logging onto Fusion because I'm trying to learn Spanish. So it definitely pays to have diverse interests.

In her fascinating article on Fusion, writer Stacia L. Brown expounds on "The Passing Paradox: Writing, Identity & Publishing While Black."

"To 'pass,' as African American writers in the early 1900s defined it, was to choose to escape from the violence and discrimination attendant to blackness," Brown writes.

She goes on to describe how the concept of passing for another race may seem like an antiquated notion in our 21st century, so-called "post-racial" society in which we have a black family in the White House.

But the unfortunate reality is, as Brown astutely observes, "passing, in its many permutations, is as topically relevant in 2015 as it was in 1915."

Brown goes on to describe the dilemma that some African-American writers face when trying to get published and attract a mainstream audience: should you try to mask your race so that your work won't be pigeonholed as "ethnic," but in doing so will you lose an important connection to your roots, your community and your identity as a whole?

As an African-American male and the author of a novel, The Chloe Chronicles, with a cast of multicultural characters, I've sometimes pondered this notion myself. And my quandary is compounded by the fact that I'm a guy trying to sell a book with a woman as the lead character.

Would it be wise to use a pen name and keep my photo off the book jacket, so as not to scare away women of different races who might buy my book if they didn't know the author was a man? (I go into more detail on gender bias in books, movies and the media, in general, in a previous blog post.)

For most of us writers who are trying to attract readers in a very crowded and competitive marketplace, publishing anonymously is simply not an option. Unless I had a skilled marketing team behind me who came up with some brilliant publicity campaign in which I could promote the hell out of my book while concealing my identity, I'm going to have to show my face. In order to connect with readers and establish an all-important brand or "author platform," as they say in publishing, putting yourself out there is necessary.

The sad but accurate truth is that for as much progress as we've made on racial issues, deep-held prejudices still persist. Like many parts of our society, publishing is still a very segregated field.

I think the publishing business should look to the movie industry for inspiration. Hollywood certainly has a long way to go in terms of diversity, as well, but there are numerous examples of black and Latino directors who helm mainstream movies with either multicultural or all-white casts.

Mexican director Alejandro González Iñárritu is currently nominated for Best Director Academy Award for "Birdman," which is also nominated for Best Picture. Though "Birdman" has an all-white cast of accomplished actors like Michael Keaton, Naomi Watts and Edward Norton, no one has been making a big deal out of the fact that a Hispanic filmmaker directed the movie.

And Oscar-winning African-American actor/director Forest Whitaker has directed everything from the all-black big-screen adaptation of Terry McMillan's "Waiting to Exhale" to the all-white romantic comedy "Hope Floats."

Movie directors, like authors, are storytellers. And hopefully one day we'll get to the place where black writers, like their cinematic counterparts, no longer feel tempted to "pass" in order to be successful.

Am I 'Dumb' Because I Thought Eggs Are a Dairy Product?

At a recent get-together with family and friends, we all had fun playing a trivia game. I embarrassed myself, however, when I couldn't answer a simple science question: How many chromosomes do humans have?

Fortunately, I kept quiet, because my answer would have been way off the mark. I would have said people have two chromosomes - an X and a Y. In fact, humans have 46 chromosomes.

Of course, I had to Google this fact and find out why my knowledge on this issue was so lacking. As it turns out, I was hung up on the 23rd pair of chromosomes, which differentiate men from women.

I'm ashamed to admit this gap in my knowledge. I even hesitated writing this blog post, lest some potential employer come across it and jump to the conclusion that I'm too stupid to do business with.

I consider myself a person of at least reasonable intelligence. After all, I'm college-educated, having graduated cum laude with a bachelor's degree in English from a reputable, fully accredited university. I'm proud to say my alma mater is The Ohio State University - home of the Buckeyes, the 2015 National Champions in the inaugural College Football Playoff.

Yes, I'll brag on the Buckeyes. But I don't want to sound snobbish in saying that I'm part of only 28.8 percent of the U.S. population who holds a bachelor's degree or higher, according to the U.S. Census Bureau.

So why am I not up to speed on such a basic fact as how many chromosomes I and my fellow human beings have?

After mulling over this dilemma, I think it boils down to knowledge vs. intelligence. These two qualities are, indeed, mutually exclusive.

In researching this topic, I came across an excellent blog post by Kevin Burke. In the post, he quotes from the book "Executive Intelligence" by Justin Menkes that sheds light on my dilemma:

"The distinction between knowledge and intelligence is frequently blurred. For example, [on] Jeopardy!, contestants are rewarded for the large amount of knowledge they possess on a wide variety of topics. Often, the winners are refered to as "exceptionally smart." But the truth is that they are exceptionally knowledgeable. Successful Jeopardy! contestants haven't really proven anything about their intelligence."

So, not knowing certain facts doesn't necessarily mean you lack intelligence (as I like to tell myself). I'll be the first to admit that, as an English major, I'm more of a wordsmith and math and science are not and have never been my strong suit.

Another online resource I stumbled across in my research confirms my belief that there are different types of intelligence, or "multiple intelligences," as an article on the Flatworld Knowledge site puts it.

I consider myself a creative person, and this article proposes that creative people tend to possess five components: imaginative thinking, risk taking, working in a creative environment, intrinsic interest and expertise.

These last two components - intrinsic interest and expertise - give me comfort that I'm not "dumb" because I didn't know how many chromosomes humans have. Like most people, I tend to concentrate my efforts in areas of intrinsic interest and try to develop expertise in these areas.  The areas of intrinsic interest to me include creative writing, journalism, filmmaking and the history of publishing, film, music and other creative industries.

So I might fail a trivia contest on science topics, but win the grand prize in a trivia game about pop culture.

And, of course, it's possible that at some point in school, I was taught how many chromosomes humans have. But this factoid may have been pushed to the back of my memory - or pushed out altogether - by facts that are of more relevance to my day-to-day work as a writer and areas of intrinsic interest that I pursue.

In school, many of us are taught about the food pyramid and which foods are grouped in which categories. I had another embarrassing moment recently when, during a conversation with my sister, she was ragging on someone she thought was an idiot because they thought eggs are a dairy product. Once again, I kept silent and didn't admit that I had this mistaken thought in my head, as well.

But I'm not alone. According to About.com, thinking that eggs are dairy product is a "somewhat common misconception." Why? Because eggs are sold in the dairy section of most grocery stores.

And I thought I'd remembered seeing a food pyramid as a child that grouped eggs in the dairy category, but when I tried to Google this erroneous food pyramid from the '70s and '80s when I was in grade school, I couldn't track down this artifact that I had apparently concocted in my imagination.

When I posted this gap in knowledge on Facebook, a friend of mine replied, "I can't stop laughing right now" - meaning that my misinformation was just too funny for words.

Would people like me who go around mistaking eggs for dairy products and can't correctly name how many chromosomes humans have flunk out on the quiz show "Are You Smarter than a 5th Grader?" Perhaps.

What is likely the case is that people like me are intelligent, but lacking knowledge in certain areas - or in need of a refresher in certain subjects. And furthermore, even though I have a college degree, I'm well-aware that, like the old saying, it's possible to be "book-smart and life-stupid." Knowledge and common sense don't always go hand in hand.

There are numerous examples of high school and college dropouts who went on to become millionaires many times over, and college graduates who struggle to make their student loan payments. There are many self-taught musicians who are much more successful and disciplined than the most knowledgeable Julliard grads.

The Hubpages forum recently hosted a discussion on the topic "What is the difference between knowledge and intelligence?" As one commenter succinctly put it, "The difference is knowing 'how to' think and [not] just remembering information. You are not your knowledge, you are the intelligence that learns how to assimilate, process and store your knowledge."

So, yes, I do consider myself intelligent. Even if I don't know how many chromosomes I have.  












 

Who Cares About The Grammys When The Music Biz Is Dead?

As a lifelong fan of all different kinds of music, you'd think the highlight of my year - or at least the winter - would be the Grammy Awards telecast. The big event will be broadcast live this Sunday, Feb. 8, at 8 p.m. on CBS from the Staples Center in Los Angeles.

Rather than appointment television that will keep me chained to the television set, I'll probably record the show and fast-forward through the highlights over the course of the following week.

It's hard to get excited about the Grammys when the music industry is dying.

Surfing the Internet recently, I was shocked to find that only four albums went platinum in 2014 - Taylor Swift's "1989" (3.6 million copies), the "Frozen" soundtrack (3.5 million), Sam Smith's "In the Lonely Hour" (1.2 million) and Pentatonix's "That's Christmas to Me" (1.1 million). These figures were published in a Jan. 8 Rolling Stone article about declining record sales.

This is a vastly different situation from 30 years ago. In 1984, several albums went multi-platinum: Prince's "Purple Rain," Bruce Springsteen's "Born in the USA" and Madonna's "Like a Virgin," to name a few.

Back then, watching music award shows was really exciting. As a preteen in 1985, watching Prince and the Revolution and special guest Sheila E. performing "Baby, I'm a Star" on that year's Grammy telecast made me scream, jump up and down and nearly tear my hair out in front of my tiny black and white TV on the nightstand in my bedroom.

But this year? Meh.

There are few young performers today that project that kind of charisma and make us music fans want to tune in to see them on the Grammys.

In a piece titled "How to (Sort of) Care About the Grammys" on Grantland.com, pop-culture writer Steven Hyden shares my blah, bland assessment of the Grammys: "Here's a proposition for your office pool: The first person who can name all of the nominees for Album of the Year gets $1 million. Don't worry about paying out - unless you work at a music website, you likely won't have any correct guesses."

 

Has the music industry permanently changed? Here are some ideas that might help give the biz a much-needed shot in the arm:

A real music channel. MTV long ago ceased being "Music Television" and instead morphed into "Miscellaneous Television," a youth lifestyle channel dominated by lame reality shows.

It would be great to have a 24-hour cable channel that is truly geared toward music lovers of all generations, broadcasting not just music videos but live performances, documentaries  and interviews with musicians from different genres.

This channel could be hosted by radio deejays, podcasters and indie record-store employees from around the country who are truly knowledgeable and passionate about all kinds of music.

Visionary record label honchos. The music business is in dire need of a new breed of visionary moguls like Berry Gordy (Motown), Clive Davis (Arista), Mo Ostin (Warner Bros.), Ahmet Ertegun (Atlantic), Sylvia Rhone (Elektra) and David Geffen (Geffen) who have an  eye for spotting potential. Visionaries like these knew how to groom artists who may take several albums to build an audience, give them the time and resources they need to develop, and get out of their way.

Regional sounds, regional stars. In the past, cities like Detroit, Seattle and Atlanta have transformed the music business by creating their own regional sounds. Growing up in the '80s, I fell in love with the distinctive Minneapolis sound that Prince helped create.

Rap pioneer Chuck D, in a speech at my alma mater Ohio State University a couple of years ago, suggested that radio stations should be required to play a certain amount of music by local artists, like they do in Canada. This would certainly give a huge boost to undiscovered talent who may not be living in New York or Los Angeles.

The Grammys should take a cue from artists and go on tour. The Grammys would be a lot more fun to watch if music fans around the country felt a direct connection to the telecast.  Maybe the Grammys could be like Olympics and let different cities vie to host the ceremony every few years. It would be cool to see the Grammys come to Cleveland, home of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. And the ceremony would feel a lot more relevant and authentic if held in a smaller venue. The hugeness of the L.A. Staples Center feels cold and impersonal.

Cultivate new fans. Those of us who love music all play a role in passing on our passion to the next generation of fans. We need to cultivate lifelong music fans who see the intrinsic value in buying and owning music and compensating artists for their labor and creativity.

Vinyl is reportedly making a comeback and now accounts for 6 percent of all physical music sales, according to Rolling Stone. But buying a CD or downloading an MP3 is just as valid. There's something about owning an artist's work that makes you feel more invested in it, rather than using YouTube, Spotify, Pandora or another streaming service as permanent cloud storage.

The one sure saving grace of the music industry will be the fans themselves.