I was fortunate enough to be one of the 51 critics selected for the Sundance Press Inclusion Initiative, a program that provided free tickets to the ten-day Sundance Film Festival and cash for lodging and airfare to, as the festival notes, “critics, freelancers, and journalists from backgrounds underrepresented in the critical mainstream, with an emphasis on people of color, women, and people with disabilities.”
Fifty-one participants in an inclusion program is extraordinary. Usually there can be only one person from a marginalized background in any program, creating an intense fight to the death to be considered the “best” among a roster of excellent choices. This time it seemed that at least some of us were chosen to give experience specifically to newer artists, which helped relieve scrutiny and create a relaxed atmosphere. Sitting in a room watching Janicza Bravo, the Black director of Zola, be interviewed by Jacqueline Coley, a Black journalist from Rotten Tomatoes, felt revolutionary. A recent New York Times article noted that this Sundance was one of the most diverse ever, with women directing 44 percent of the 118 films, minorities directing 34 percent, and those identifying as LGBTQ directing 15 percent. There was an overwhelming feeling in the air that perhaps finally, after years of pushing that boulder of diversity up the hill, changes were beginning to stick.
I got to the press lodge, checked in, and immediately struck up a conversation with another journalist. When I mentioned that I was part of the Press Inclusion Initiative, he said that “some of the people who received it last year felt entitled to it this year.” It was clear that there was more to be said, but that I wasn’t going to hear it from him. Even without knowing any of the backstory, one thing I know for sure is that writing off marginalized folks as bitter or angry is often a way to shut down tough conversations in the arts and beyond. “You should be grateful just to be here,” he told me. “Do you know how many people would kill for this opportunity?”
The whole experience is an exercise in FOMO. The schedule stacks dozens of must-attend events one on top of each other, making it impossible to attend everything you want to. Yet even the programs you miss at Sundance pique your imagination to new modes of thinking. And one event I missed made me think about what diversity initiatives are and are not.
I flew back to Chicago and was greeted with an excellent op-ed in the Reader written by Chicago theater artist and activist Coya Paz lamenting the lack of diversity in awards shows and theater criticism in Chicago. The next day, one of the most prominent theater critics in Chicago—who happens to be a white male—posted a screed on Facebook attacking Paz for expressing a rather basic sentiment backed up by data, attacked her for asking for more from our community, and the implication of his feelings was clear: she had been ungrateful.
