Even as there is a growing recognition for the need for representation, there are still many cases where folks will find themselves as the only person in a room representing their particular demographic – and often there is pressure to perform in such contexts to prove competence not just for yourself but for everyone who is like you. The burden and the stress of being the “representer” is real, and so we wanted to create a space where folks can discuss who they go about ensuring they are effective and successful even in contexts where no one else on the team or in the room is like them.
Shea Formanes
I grew up in a lower-middle class family in New York City, and am the queer, eldest child of a Filipina immigrant and a first-generation Filipino-American. Many of my loved ones are disabled and/or autistic. In short, I know what it’s like to be ostracized because of one’s identity, and it’s my life mission to center voices that otherwise have been suppressed. That is why, on my journey as a writer/director in the film industry, I’m committed to telling sci-fi/drama stories about complicated families from BIPOC and LGBTQIA+ communities that heal from traumatic events. Read more>>
Ahmieda Toure
I have learned to be successful even when I am the only person in the room that looks like me through the strength of perseverance and knowing the doors I open for people coming after me. Although at times it can feel uncomfortable or discouraging, it pushes me to strive for the better and outdo myself. Also remembering I am in that space for a reason, though I may look different, I clearly have something in common with everyone else that put me in the same room in the first place. The spaces I am so welcomed into today, at one point in time were not such inviting spaces for someone who looked like me. Someone had to go through the same trials of being different and an outcast for me to be able to sit comfortably in the rooms I do today. Being able to see more and more people who do look like me in these rooms make me feel good about our future and the rate of inclusion. Read more>>
Ashley Mireles-Guerrero
The first industry conference I attended was in Pasadena, CA. I was eager to embrace my new role as Sales Manager, learn from peers, and soak up industry insights. But my excitement quickly turned into a harsh realization: the publishing industry was overwhelmingly white.
A year before I started my first publishing job, Lee & Low released its inaugural Diversity Baseline Survey, aiming “to establish a baseline that shows where we are now as an industry and to measure progress moving forward.” The survey highlighted glaring gaps in representation based on race, gender, sexual orientation, and disability. Conversations about diversity gained momentum, and conferences began adding DEI sessions and roundtables with titles like How to Recruit and Retain More Diverse Talent or simply Diversity in Publishing. Read more>>
Janaye Pitt
By selling at multiple conventions and markets I have met many other talented artists. While I am happy to say that I’ve never really had a bad experience with other artists I have noticed something as time goes on. There have been a few events where I was the only black female in the artist space. Once or twice, I even noticed that I was the ONLY black artist in the artist space. So, what happened? Obviously, I don’t run the conventions or markets so I have no idea if it was a selection issue or if other artists of color just weren’t interested in the events. Regardless, this made me stand out in a way I hadn’t expected. When you’re forced to stand out just by your skin tone alone then the only option is to rise to the occasion. The first thing I do is try my best to network with other artists before most events even start. Read more>>
