Despite today’s efforts to be more inclusive and understanding, we are still far from perfect. This reality is especially prevalent in the film industry. Take, for example, the wage gap between actors and actresses, or the lack of women directors. The disparity is even greater when you take race into account. As a result, we have movies and TV shows that are limited to one point of view: the white, male experience.
Aziz Ansari’s new Netflix series, Master of None, is a breath of fresh air. This show puts on screen the realities of being in the film industry, a minority, a woman, a first-generation immigrant, and a millennial in America, in a way that is both honest and funny.
I am going to try my best to explain this without giving away too many spoilers, but I can’t make any promises:
Millennial Crisis: To Have a Child or Stay a Child?
Even though I am far from ready to start a family, sometimes I whimsically imagine what it would be like to pump out a few beautiful kids after graduating college, work at home, and give little Johnny a bubble bath at the end of the day. Even as a feminist, I daydream about being a housewife. But that soon gets halted when I think about actually taking care of a pooping, crying, financially demanding, fragile, small, and dependent human being. No thank you!
I believe this is a normal internal conflict with many millennials–especially women, as we’re trying to reconcile antiquated family structures with our new-found freedom and opportunities. Dev–Aziz’s character–fantasizes about being a parent too.
He cuts to a sepia-colored dream of coming home from work, taking off his long overcoat and fedora, and hugging his two well-behaved children. Then, later on, he cuts to a more realistic vision of parenthood: him coming back home tired from work, only to see the house in disarray and his kids looking like they just took a shower in spaghetti sauce. He, like HCK writer Paige Ballard, decided that he’s not ready to be a grown-up yet.
First- Generation Immigrant Crisis: Appreciating Your Roots
The episode concerning the immigrant parents of Dev and his friend Brian hit hilariously close to home. Dev and Brian both shirk time with their parents to go hang out, and after doing so, the scene flashes back to their fathers as children in India and China, respectively. Both serve to impart the same message: remember where you come from.
My parents and I are immigrants from the Philippines, however I came here when I was 3 years-old, so I consider myself more as a first-generation American. My parents came to America when they were 22 and 23 years old, just having finished college, ready to start a new life in a foreign country.
It’s crazy to think that my mom and dad both lived in poverty growing up. As a child, they barely had toys or new clothes; even when they were in school, they couldn’t afford calculators and most books. Yet they worked with what they had and they studied hard. They graduated with degrees in Physical Therapy, and came to work in America. Of course, coming to America was not a smooth transition. They didn’t have a safety net coming here and they faced discrimination and financial insecurity. This narrative is not unique to my parents; in fact it’s much like most immigrants’. Yet this story is rarely told in the eyes of their children.
Today, as my siblings and I play with iPads and iPhones and as I attend a private liberal-arts college, we sometimes forget that we wouldn’t have these things if our parents hadn’t sacrificed so much to be here. Sometimes we fail to appreciate their story and remember they were once children too, with dreams, plans, and aspirations to live a better life.
My dad, his siblings and parents in the Philippines My dad, mom siblings and I at a viewing of Pacquiao vs. Floyd Mayweather fight
Minority Crisis: Diversity Crisis in Life and Media
Kenyon is rich in many things, like cool liberal arts classes, acapella/choir groups, and vegetarian food options. However, diversity doesn’t make it on to that list. It could be worse, yes, but for a school set on being progressive and inclusive there’s still plenty of room for improvement. I’d like to believe that Kenyon is above racial, political, and economic divides, but I don’t think it is. I see very few friend groups of mixed races, which is disheartening for me. Even the clubs I’m a part of barely have racial diversity.
Much like Kenyon, media has not yet perfect reached inclusion and diversity. The majority of American movies and TV shows have caucasian lead characters, while the one or two colored friends are stuck with ethnic tropes and less compelling stories. Dev faced this problem while auditioning for a commercial that wanted him to do an Indian accent, and for a TV show that refused to hire both him and his other Indian friend as leads, fearing that the show will turn into an “Indian thing.”
These problems extend beyond Kenyon and the media, and I don’t know how to fix them. But I would like to live in a world where I can turn on the TV and have more people of color play three-dimensional roles, and I would like to live in a world where we no longer see discrimination, classism, racism,and elitism on college campuses.
Women Crisis: Cat Callers and Stalkers
On one hot afternoon in New York City, I walked alone on a quiet street. The heat became so oppressive that I decided to take off my button-down shirt and walk around in a white tank top and shorts. No less than 5 minutes later, I could feel the stares of men walking by and heard someone calling me from behind. He called, “Hey, what’s your name?” I kept walking, pretending he wasn’t there. “You’re beautiful,” he told me. Was I supposed to blush? Was this supposed to be flattering? If my cheeks turned red it was not out of flattery, but out of anxiety. This strange, middle-aged man was trying to talk to me and he wasn’t getting the hint that I wasn’t interested. I detoured onto a busy street and lost him in the crowd.
Aziz’s show portrays this everyday struggle for women by juxtaposing the experiences between two males going home from the bar and a lone female going home from the same bar. It’s nighttime, and the two guys–Dev and his friend Arnold–are casually walking home, taking detours through the park and laughing along the way. The girl walks alone, her arms across her body, walking in silent conviction. A guy whom she rejected at the bar turns the corner and starts following her. He follows and calls out to her all the way home. She locks him out of her apartment right on time and calls the cops.
While watching her desperately trying to get away from the creep, I felt my adrenaline pumping. I had put myself in her shoes, because her experience was all too familiar. The reality is that women will always be vulnerable to men who think they have power over them and believe that women owe them their attention simply because they have taken an interest.
I love Master of None because it’s smart, funny, and fresh. This show is a great example of how diverse issues can be portrayed, yet still be a good freakin’ time. Thank you, Aziz Ansari for giving the world your comedic brilliance and your worldly sensitivity.
Image Sources: masterofnonegifs.tumblr.com, Ferdinand Rivera, Juviand Rivera, Ramil Liza Rivera-Rodriguez, giphy.com