Neutrality is Not a Virtue

on Amanda, Eartha, and being a loud voice in a quiet room.

Being a loud voice in a quiet room can be exhilarating and terrifying. Whenever I’ve expressed myself emphatically, I typically experience a glimmer of satisfaction followed by an aftershock of second-guessing myself and considering if I should’ve been more cautious with my words. I think about if I was too judgmental, if my tone was too impassioned, and I consider quadruple-checking my facts to make sure I didn’t make a fool out of myself. As I’ve started to gain more confidence in my voice and perspective, I’m learning that this anxiety-ridden reaction is a result of societal expectations that value neutrality, and silence over loud, bold, uncomfortable truths. 

I used to admire people who were not overly expressive and could maintain their composure in scenarios where people TRIED it with them. The folks who could keep their opinions to themselves and quickly move on from the kind of conversations I’m prone to replaying in my mind on a loop for several weeks after the fact. I’ve always struggled to keep my cool when dealing with unfairness, ignorance, or outright cruelty because they activate my fight-or-flight responses— every fiber in my being wants to GO OFF. But those likable people whose disposition is always even-keeled would never be so uncouth. They are the kind of people referred to as a class act and possess an aspirational level of charisma and grace, which is a stark contrast to me, a person with the mouth and spirit of a disruptor. As I’ve started to refine my delivery, I’m less concerned with being likable. It’s more important that truthfulness and authenticity are at the core of how I express myself. Whether someone likes me or what I have to say or not is more a reflection of who they are than the validity of what I’m saying.

To me, likability exists under the umbrella of respectability politics, right next to palatability. To attain likability requires a person to not be too polarizing, too challenging, or say or do anything to ruffle someone’s feathers (especially if that someone has hierarchal power over you). Some people are naturally likable (one of my closest friends is a Libra who literally everyone adores), but for many people (and especially for people who work in public-facing roles) likability is a performance. 

In the age of curated lifestyles, celebrity worship, and a growing need to maintain relevancy to increase capital gains, authenticity is a dying concept of personality. Code-switching and personality masking are popular communication tactics that ensure people whose cultural and ethnic backgrounds are not mainstream can assimilate into the dominant culture. The more visible you are, the deeper this reality is because how you are perceived can be directly tied to how much power, and influence you have. This results in a culture of people who play the fence on social issues that either directly impact people who share their background or folks from different backgrounds who have endured oppression under the same or similar systems of inequality. Keeping it honest about how harmful the hierarchies we’re ruled by can knock someone who has been clawing their way to the top, right back to the bottom where they started from. As a result, the people who have worked tirelessly to blend into the dominant culture uphold neutrality as an exemplary behavior and perhaps to some degree, a method of survival. 

But neutrality is not a virtue. To me, there is nothing aspirational about people who withhold their perspective and can be completely unmoved by the atrocities happening in the world. Many of us have regarded being “non-judgmental” as morally sound due to religious conditioning and/or witnessing what happens to people who take a strong stance against harmful systems or people. Too few of us have considered how judgment (and critique) can be a catalyst for transformation. Imagine where the world would be now if our ancestors never judged any of the systems this country was founded on, a terrifying reality to consider. When we lack the discernment to know when it’s appropriate to use judgment versus withhold it, we create an environment that doesn’t allow space for accountability, safety, or evolution. In short, not taking a stance, having an opinion, or calling something out allows for collective stagnation. 

Recently, I read an op-ed in Essence titled “It’s Time To Admit That Being Liked Is More Important Than Being Good At Your Job” that discusses Amanda Seales and her apparent lack of likability in Black Hollywood. Seales is one of few highly visible people in her industry who regularly uses her platform to call attention to social issues most people either blatantly ignore or lack the range to speak on. Predictably, this has resulted in her garnering a reputation for being polarizing, overly analytical, or as one Twitter user unkindly put it “annoying”. Though the author has moments of empathizing with Seales: 

I really like Amanda Seales.

Her whip smart eloquence and crisp comedic timing are undeniable every time I see her on my phone screen or silver screen. I find mostly everything she produces to be thoughtful, effortful, and impactful. She’s gifted us with her vulnerability time and time again, making it clear that she aims to leave the world better than she found it. She’s someone who I sit up for when I hear her speaking. That’s why it pains me to say this: I can understand why some people don’t like her.

She goes on to conclude her article by suggesting that Seales should reflect on her lack of likability and how she could better conform to the spaces she’s shut out of: 

Personally, while I enjoy thought provocation in theory, I’m not sure I’d be able to work alongside someone who seems committed to exhaustingly agitating the establishment, even when they have really good points and even better intentions.

While I feel for Seales and know that she is beloved by those who follow her work, I can’t help but wonder if there’s an opportunity for reflection on her part as opposed to yet another moment of mere finger-pointing. She seems to be confused about why she isn’t embraced by the Hollywood machine she has consistently bucked against and admonished for years. She seems to have offended the same people she wants to be lauded by. I’m not sure it’s wise to want it both ways.

I have so many questions here. First, why do we take issue with people who exhaustingly agitate the establishment when none of us would have the rights or privileges we currently have if it weren't for folks who exhaustingly agitated the establishment? For this reason, I find the question of how one can admonish an establishment but also want to be part of it interesting. It's a valid question but one that lacks the insight of understanding that many people critique establishments because they want them to improve, not because they expect to be shut out from them (especially not when the establishments we are speaking of were created for the sole purpose of creating space for folks who aren’t embraced in predominantly white spaces).

@luhluhlushelle#greenscreen #amandaseales

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Before this article came out, I made a TikTok discussing the hypocrisy of Seales being shut out of Black entertainment spaces (that are more than happy to invite abusers to the function) in which one user commented "I wouldn't want to be part of something I had to constantly call out". By nature of being ruled by white supremacy and capitalism, we are all part of something that constantly needs to be called out. I don't want to be insensitive to the fact that many people have a lot to lose if they speak the entire truth. However, we should also acknowledge there was a time when pushing humanity forward was just as, if not, more important than securing financial and professional opportunities. This mentality of vilifying people who are unwilling to just fall in line with the status quo represents a growing ideological disparity in the Black American community, that most certainly benefits the people and systems who have ensured our collective progress is halted.

It makes me question, who exactly are we trying to make ourselves likable for? The article mentions a couple of studies¹ that found that likability is what helps job candidates stand out and that hiring managers are more likely to select people they like than people who are qualified for the job. Instead of challenging this, and questioning who is defining this likability, how is it measured and what we stand to lose by adhering to the performance of it all, it is implied that we should just go to get along. I would be remiss to not acknowledge that this reality impacts the average 9 to 5 worker in a much different way than it does artists or entertainers. But, it's telling that in the year 2024, we are expecting people who make art for a living, a profession that should ideally allow you the space to express yourself freely, to adhere to corporate expectations in a creative industry. To quote TikTok creator Casanova Brown "How are you playing by white rules at a Black business?"

“My recipe for life is not being afraid of myself, afraid of what I think or of my opinions.” - Eartha Kitt 

Whenever I have moments where I question whether I should use my voice or not, I think about Eartha Kitt’s visit to The White House in 1968 in which she told First Lady, Lady Bird Johnson her unfiltered thoughts about the Vietnam War. I’ve talked before about how decorum is a norm within Hollywood but that is even more true for political spaces. For Kitt to boldly denounce² the Vietnam War in a room where she was one of few minorities, and in the very house that escalated the war was nothing short of brave. This resulted in Kitt’s departure to Europe after she was blacklisted from Hollywood and unable to get jobs in The United States. While some people may view Kitt’s speaking out as not being worth her risking her career, we must ask ourselves what is an artistic career worth if you’re robbed of the freedom to tell the truth to maintain it?

As an independent filmmaker and artist, I think a lot about the space I want to occupy and how disingenuous the industry I’m entering feels to me. When I think about the artists who influence me the most, what connects them all is their unrelenting commitment to truth-telling and authenticity. This is not an easy path to take, it may result in a longer journey and also being shut out of spaces, even the ones designed to embrace folks like me. I could navigate my path walking on eggshells and afraid of missing out on opportunities, or I can feel content knowing that any opportunity I’ll miss out by sharing my perspective wasn’t meant for me anyway. Exchanging validation for honesty and enabling gatekeepers to remain insular not only doesn’t serve my artistry, it also doesn’t challenge the industry to expand and improve. I don’t want to delude myself by believing that speaking out about social issues will somehow eradicate them in our lifetime. However, I do believe it’s my responsibility to myself, my community, the disruptors who paved the way for me and the people who will be here after I’m gone to continue thoughtfully critiquing the systems that rule us to reduce harm and impede regression.  

READING

Is this a safe space to admit that I’ve never read a Stephen King book until now? I figured a prolific writer who has had more than 40 of his books adapted into films must know a thing or two about writing, plus someone I was in a writers group with recommended it awhile ago. As the title suggests, this is a memoir that is also about writing. This book is a nice departure from those books about writing that are super prescriptive and try to tell you specific methods for crafting a story. King gives the reader permission to give into the strangeness of their creative mind while also offering practical guidance on how to build out a consistent writing routine — his life story makes for a good read as well.

WATCHING

I can’t explain why, but old TV shows help me fall asleep. One night, I was scrolling on Tubi and discovered this public access variety show called Soul!. It features performances by legends like Stevie Wonder, Miriam Makeba, and Earth, Wind and Fire, as well as conversations with the likes of Muhammad Ali, James Baldwin, Nikki Giovanni, Ruby Dee, Ossie Davis and more. With more than 65% of Black American households watching this show in the lates 60s and 70s, and one of the only nationally televised shows produced by and for the Black community Soul! was unapologetically Black and way ahead of it’s time.

LISTENING

Check out my interview with Sista Brunch podcast where I talk about my Minnesotan upbringing, my unconventional path to becoming a filmmaker and the process of making my short film “One of The Guys”

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LaChelle

1. Harvard Business School “Why Emotional Intelligence is Important in Leadership” and LinkedIn “New Data: What Recruiters Get Wrong About What Candidates Want”

2. I also love this story about how Eartha handled not being allowed to go to an amusement park in South Africa with her white passing daughter who was allowed entry.