“If you really believe that representation doesn’t matter, then why the fuck are you threatened by it? If not seeing yourself depicted in stories has no negative psychological impact - if the breakdown of who we see on screen has no bearing on wider social issues - then what would it matter if nine stories out of ten were suddenly all about queer brown women? No big, right? It wouldn’t change anything important; just a few superficial details. Because YOU can identify with ANYONE.
So I guess the problem is that you just don’t want to. Because deep down, you think it’ll make stories worse. And why is that? Oh, yeah: because it means they wouldn’t all be about YOU.”"
"You should be angry. You must not be bitter. Bitterness is like cancer. It eats upon the host. It doesn’t do anything to the object of its displeasure. So use that anger. You write it. You paint it. You dance it. You march it. You vote it. You do everything about it. You talk it. Never stop talking it."
If this is not the perfect distillation of what it means to be a political artist, a conscious artist, a counter-culture artist, an agent of change, then I do not know what is. Anger is so often shunned because we are either scared or made to feel ashamed of it, or led to believe it is illegal. It is not. Anger is a fundamental, universal human right. Anger is powerful, anger is beautiful, anger is real. As Dr. Angelou says, it is bitterness that is dangerous, it is bitterness that leads to cynicism and wrath. Anger is altogether something different. It is a shout against injustice, it is an expression of courage. It is, when couched within civility, the greatest agent of change in human history. It is our voices at their most naked and honest.